ing," murmured Mrs Hunt.--"Del, my love, go
on with my work a little, while I say a few words to old Mrs Crow."

Delia took her mother's place, threaded her needle, raised her eyebrows
with an amused air, as she examined the work accomplished, and bent her
head industriously over it.

"Doesn't it seem quite impossible," said Miss Gibbins, "to realise that
Prissy's daughter is really coming to Waverley to-morrow! Why, it seems
the other day that I saw Prissy married in Dornton church!"

"It must be fifteen years ago at the least," said Mrs Winn, in such
deep tones that they seemed to roll round the room. "The child must be
fourteen years old."

"She wore grey cashmere," said Miss Gibbins, reflectively, "and a little
white bonnet. And the sun streamed in upon her through the painted
window. I remember thinking she looked like a dove. I wonder if the
child is like her."

"The Forrests have never taken much notice of Mr Goodwin, since the
marriage," said Mrs Hurst, "but I suppose, now his grandchild is to
live there, all that will be altered."

Delia looked quickly up at the speaker, but checked the words on her
lips, and said nothing.

"You can't do away with the ties of blood," said Mrs Winn; "the child's
his grandchild. You can't ignore that."

"Why should you want to ignore it?" asked Delia, suddenly raising her
eyes and looking straight at her.

The attack was so unexpected that Mrs Winn had no answer ready. She
remained speechless, with her large grey eyes wider open than usual, for
quite a minute before she said, "These are matters, Delia, which you are
too young to understand."

"Perhaps I am," answered Delia; "but I can understand one thing very
well, and that is, that Mr Goodwin is a grandfather that any one ought
to be proud of, and that, if his relations are not proud of him, it is
because they're not worthy of him."

"Oh, well," said Miss Gibbins, shaking her head rather nervously as she
looked at Delia, "we all know what a champion Mr Goodwin has in you,
Delia. `Music with its silver sound' draws you together, as Shakespeare
says. And, of course, we're all proud of our organist in Dornton, and,
of course, he has great talent. Still, you know, when all's said and
done, he _is_ a music-master, and in quite a different position from the
Forrests."

"Socially," said Mrs Winn, placing her large, white hand flat on the
table beside her, to emphasise her words, "Mr Goodwin is not on the
same