Thistle and Rose - Amy Walton (beginner reading books for adults .txt) 📗

promised the Professor to be your friend, and I haven't carried it out."

"It's been my fault," said Anna, in a penitent voice, "but really and truly, Delia, you may not believe me, but I _do_ like you better than Isabel Palmer--or any one. I do indeed."

She spoke the truth. At that moment she felt that she would rather have Delia for a friend than any one in the world. Yet she was conscious that, if Delia knew all, she would find it hard to forgive her. What a pity it all was!

"So, what I want to tell you," continued Delia, "and what I ought to have told you before, is this. I've let you think that your grandfather doesn't mind your going so seldom to see him--but I know that he does."

She paused and looked earnestly at Anna.

"Grandfather never says anything about it," Anna murmured.

"That's just it," said Delia. "He's so unselfish and good, he wouldn't let you or any one know it for the world. He thinks so little of himself, it would be impossible to offend him. It's not what he _says_. Oh, Anna, if you really knew, and loved him, you _couldn't_ let anything else come before him! Not all the Palmers, and Waverleys, and Aunt Sarahs in the world. You _couldn't_ give him a minute's pain or disappointment."

She was so moved by her subject, that the tears stood in her dark eyes as she turned them upon Anna.

"I'll try, Delia; I really will," said the latter, "but it _is_ hard. Harder than you think. It makes Aunt Sarah different for days afterwards."

Delia snapped off the head of a water-lily in her impatient fingers.

"Aunt Sarah!" she repeated. Then more gently: "You see, Anna, you must choose whether you'll pain the Professor or displease Mrs Forrest. You can't possibly please both of them. You must choose which you think right, and stick to it. You can't serve God and mammon."

How dreadfully earnest Delia was! It almost frightened Anna to hear her talk like that.

"I will try," she repeated. "I will do my best, Delia, if only you won't be angry any longer."

She put her hand softly into her companion's, and Delia's fingers closed over it in a warm clasp. For the time, the old feelings of confidence and affection had returned, and when, a little later, Anna walked back to the Vicarage alone, she was full of good resolves. She would try to deserve Delia's friendship. She would go often to Dornton, and be very loving to her grandfather. She would turn over a new leaf.

"My dear Anna," cried Mrs Forrest, meeting her in the porch with her basket of wet, shining river-plants, "do you know the time? Miss Stiles has been waiting to try on your dress for the picnic. Dear me! what dripping things! Let Mary take them."

The picnic! Anna had really for the moment forgotten the picnic. All the good resolves trooped into the background again while she tried on the new dress. But only till _after_ the picnic! When that was over she would make a fresh start, and never, never, conceal anything again.


CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE BEST THINGS.

A rose which falleth from the hand, which fadeth in the breast,
Until in grieving for the worst, we learn what is the best.

Mrs Browning.

Everything went on quite smoothly until the day fixed for the picnic came. Aunt Sarah gave no hint of any objection; the weather was gloriously hot and fine; Anna's new white dress was very pretty--there was nothing wanting to her long-desired enjoyment.

She stood amongst the nodding roses in the porch, waiting for the Palmers to call for her in their carriage, on the way to Alderbury. Aunt Sarah was, perhaps, to drive over and join the party later. Anna had dismissed all troublesome thoughts. She felt sure she was going to be very happy, and that nothing unlucky would happen to spoil her pleasure. She was in gay spirits, as she fastened a bunch of the little cluster-roses in her dress. Isabel had once told her that she looked very pretty in white, and she was glad to feel that she suited the beauty of the bright summer day.

"Anna!" said Mrs Forrest's voice from the hall within.

Anna turned. The hall looked dark and shadowy after the sunshine, but it was easy to see that there was vexation on her aunt's face as she studied the letter in her hand.

"I have just had a note from Dr Hunt," she said. "Mr Goodwin, your grandfather, is not very well."

"What is the matter?" asked Anna.

She left the porch and went up to her aunt's side.

"Why, I can't quite make out. Dr Hunt talks of fever, but says there is nothing infectious. Brought on by over-exertion in the heat, he thinks. He says you may safely go to see him--"

There was a pause. Mrs Forrest and Anna looked at each other: each waited for the other to speak. Must I give up the picnic after all? thought Anna.

"I don't gather that it's anything serious," said Mrs Forrest at length. "I think the best plan will be for me to go over to Dornton, after you've started, and see Dr Hunt. Then, if there's really no danger of infection, you can go there early to-morrow," She looked inquiringly at Anna, as though half-expecting her to make some other suggestion. The sound of wheels on the gravel, and the tramp of horses, told that the Palmers were approaching: the wagonette, full of gay young people, drove up to the porch.

"Are you ready, Anna?" called out Isabel's voice.

"Will that satisfy you?" said Mrs Forrest; "you must decide now."

"We're late, Anna," said Isabel again, "why don't you come?"

Anna hesitated. She looked out at the bright sunshine, where her companions called her to gaiety and pleasure, and then at the letter in her aunt's hand.

"Here's your cloak, Miss Anna," said the maid waiting at the door.

In another moment, it seemed almost without any will of her own, she was squeezed into the carriage amongst her laughing companions, had waved a farewell to Mrs Forrest standing smiling in the porch, and was whirled away to the picnic.

The hours of the sunny day, filled with delight for Anna amongst the pleasant woods of Alderbury, did not pass so quickly at Number 4 Back Row. The Professor was ill. He had had a slight feverish attack to begin with, which passed off, and seemed of no importance, but it had left him in a state of nervous weakness and prostration, at which Dr Hunt looked grave. Mr Goodwin must have been over-exerting himself for some time past, he declared, and this breakdown was the result. It would probably be some time before he could do any work. Perfect rest, and freedom from all care and agitation, were the only remedies.

"Don't let him know, Delia," he said to his daughter as he left the house, "that he's likely to be laid up long. Keep him as quiet and cheerful as possible. I'll send a line to Mrs Forrest, and let her know that his grandchild may be with him as much as she likes."

Delia prepared to spend the rest of the day with her old friend, and having persuaded him to lie down on the hard little couch, and made him as comfortable as she could with pillows, she sat down in the window with her sewing. From here she could watch the little gate, and prevent any one from entering too suddenly. Of course Anna would come soon. The Professor was very quiet, but she thought he turned his eyes towards the door now and then, as though looking for some one. Was it Anna? At last she was thankful to see him fall into a doze which lasted some while, and she was just thinking for the hundredth time that Anna _must_ come now, when she was startled by his voice:

"Prissy," it said, quite clearly.

Delia went up to the sofa. Mr Goodwin gazed at her for a moment without recognition.

"You've had a nice sleep, Professor," she said, smiling, "and now you are going to have some tea with me."

But in spite of his sleep, the Professor's face looked anxious, and he hardly tasted the tea which Delia prepared. As she took his cup, he said wistfully:

"Did Dr Hunt write to Mrs Forrest?"

Delia nodded.

"Did--did Anna happen to come while I was asleep?" was his next question.

"She's not been yet," said Delia, "but they may not have had the letter till late. She will come soon."

"I should like to see her," said the Professor.

Why did not Anna come? As the weary hours went by, and the sun got lower and lower, he became very restless, looked first at his watch and then at the door, and no longer tried to conceal how much he wanted to see his grandchild. Delia tried in vain to divert his mind by reading his favourite books, but it was evident that he was not listening to her. He was listening for the click of the gate, and the footsteps outside. Every subject in which she tried to interest him came back to the same thing, Anna, and Anna's doings. Delia could not help one throb of jealous pain, as she recognised how powerless she was to take her place, a place she seemed to value so little. But it was only for one moment; the next she put all thought of herself aside. Anna belonged to the dearest memories of the Professor's life. She had a place in his heart which would always be kept for her, whatever she had done or left undone. To bring peace and comfort into his face again, Delia would have been willing at that moment to give up her own place in his affections entirely. If only Anna would come!

"I suppose it's too late to expect her now, my dear, isn't it?" said the patient voice again.

Delia could not bear it any longer.

"I think," she said, as cheerfully as she could, "if you don't mind being alone a little while, I'll just run over to Waverley. Mrs Cooper's here, if you want anything, you know."

"Will you really?" said the Professor, with hope in his voice.

"There's perhaps been some mistake about that letter," said Delia. "You'd like to see Anna to-night, wouldn't you?"

"Well, I _should_," said Mr Goodwin. "It's very absurd, I know, but I had such a strange dream just now about her and Prissy, and I can't get it out of my head. I suppose being not quite up to the mark makes one unreasonable, but I really don't think I could sleep without seeing her. It's very good of you to go, my dear."

"I'll be back in no time, and bring her with me," said Delia.

She spoke with confidence, but half-way across the fields she stopped her rapid pace, checked by a sudden