he sun shine? You
must tell me all about it. I am to be an idle man now, you know, and
shall want every one to amuse me with gossip."

"Grandfather," cried Anna, with a sudden burst of courage, "I want to
tell you--I've done something very wrong."

The Professor turned his gentle glance upon her.

"We all have to say that, my dear," he answered, "very often. But I'm
sure you're sorry for it, whatever it is."

"It's something very bad," murmured Anna, "Delia knows. She won't
forgive me, I know, but I thought perhaps you would."

"Is it to Delia you have done wrong?" asked Mr Goodwin.

"No. To you," replied Anna, gaining courage as she went on, "I--"

The Professor stroked her fair hair gently. It was just the same colour
as Prissy's, he thought.

"Then I don't want to hear any more, my dear," he said, "for I know all
about it already."

The relief was so great, after the effort of speaking, that Anna burst
into tears, but they were tears full of comfort, and had no bitterness
in them.

"Oh, grandfather," she sobbed, "you _are_ good. Better than any one. I
will never, never--"

"Hush, my dear, hush," said the Professor, patting her hand gently, and
trying to console her by all the means in his power.

"I wonder where Delia is!" he said at last, finding that his efforts
were useless.

Anna sat up straight in her chair at the name, and dried her tears. She
dreaded seeing Delia, but it must be faced.

"She was here the moment before you came in," he continued. "Call her,
my dear."

It was not possible to be very far off in Mr Goodwin's house, and
Delia's voice answered from the kitchen, when Anna opened the door and
called her. A few minutes afterwards she came into the room carrying a
tray full of tea-things; her quick glance rested first on Anna's
tear-stained face, and then on the Professor.

"Anna and I have had a nice talk, my dear Delia," he said, with an
appealing look, "and now we should all like some tea."

Delia understood the look. She put down her tray, went promptly up to
Anna, and kissed her:

"Come and help me to get the tea ready," she said; "it's quite time the
Professor had something to eat."

So Anna was forgiven, and it was in this way that, during her visit to
Waverley, she began dimly to see what the best things are, and to see it
through sorrow and failure. It was a lesson she had to go on learning,
like the rest of us, all through her life--not an easy lesson, or