“You expect a visitor?” said Delia, as she began to alter the arrangement of the little meal, and noticed two cups and plates.
“Yes,” said the Professor, half shyly. “I got some water-cresses and some fresh eggs. And that kind Mrs Winn sent me some trout this morning. Mrs Cooper promised to come in presently and cook them.”
Delia observed that the room had quite a holiday air of neatness. There was no dust to be seen anywhere, and a special, high-backed arm-chair, which was not in general use, was now drawn up to one side of the tea-table.
“That was Prissy’s chair,” he continued, looking at it affectionately; “she always sat there, and I thought I should like to see Anna in it.”
“Oh, is Anna coming to tea with you?” exclaimed Delia. “I am glad. Is she coming alone?”
The Professor nodded. There was a faint pink flush of excitement on his cheek. His hand trembled a little as he touched the bunch of mignonette which he had put on the table.
“My flowers never do very well,” he said, trying to speak in an off-hand tone; “they don’t get enough sun. And then, the other day I had to pour my coffee out of the window, and I forgot that the border was just underneath. I daresay it didn’t agree with them.”
“I suppose Mrs Cooper made it so badly that even you could not drink it?” said Delia; “but it’s certainly hard that she should poison your flowers as well. Why don’t you tell her about it?”
“Oh, she does her best, she does her best,” said the Professor, quickly; “I wouldn’t hurt her feelings for the world.”
“Well, she won’t improve at that rate,” said Delia; “it’s a good thing every one is not so patient as you are. Now”—surveying her arrangements—“I think it all looks very nice, and as I go home I’ll call in at Mrs Cooper’s and remind her about the fish. Perhaps I shall have time to bring you a few more flowers before Anna comes.”