atigue and dejection over his whole person.

"Oh, Professor," was her first remark, as she threw down her
violin-case, "you _do_ look tired! Have you had your tea?"

"I believe, my dear," he replied, rather faintly, "Mrs Cooper has not
come in yet."

Mrs Cooper was a charwoman, who came in at uncertain intervals to cook
the Professor's meals and clean his rooms: as he was not exacting, the
claims of her other employers were always satisfied first, and if she
were at all busier than usual, he often got scanty attention.

Without waiting to hear more, Delia made her way to the little kitchen,
and set about her preparations in a very business-like manner. She was
evidently well acquainted with the resources of the household, for she
bustled about, opening cupboards, and setting tea-things on a tray, as
though she were quite at home. In a wonderfully short time she had
prepared a tempting meal, and carried it into the sitting-room, so that,
when the Professor came back from changing his boots, he found
everything quite ready. His little round table, cleared of the litter
of manuscripts and music-books, was drawn up to the open window, and
covered with a white cloth. On it there was some steaming coffee, eggs,
and bread and butter, a bunch of roses in the middle, and his arm-chair
placed before it invitingly.

He sank into it with a sigh of comfort and relief.

"How very good your coffee smells, Delia!" he said; "quite different
from Mrs Cooper's."

"I daresay, if the truth were known," said Delia, carefully pouring it
out, "that you had no dinner to speak of before you walked up to Pynes
and back again."

"I had a sandwich," answered Mr Goodwin, meekly, for Delia was bending
a searching and severe look upon him.

"Then Mrs Cooper didn't come!" she exclaimed. "Really we ought to look
out for some one else: I believe she does it on purpose."

"Now I beg of you, Delia," said the Professor, leaning forward
earnestly, "not to send Mrs Cooper away. She's a very poor woman, and
would miss the money. She told me only the last time she was here that
the doctor had ordered cod-liver oil for the twins, and she couldn't
afford to give it them."

"Oh, the twins!" said Delia, with a little scorn.

"Well, my dear, she _has_ twins; she brought them here once in a
perambulator."

"But that's no reason at all she should not attend properly to you,"
said Delia.

Mr Goodwin put down his cup of coffee, which he had beg