Meantime old Sally did the work and attended to Calista, who needed such attendance. The strain being taken off, she realized how severe it had been by the fatigue she felt, and for several days after the funeral, she could hardly sit up or occupy herself in anything. She could think of nothing but her departed friend, and, as usually happens in such cases, she was somewhat morbid. She went over and over with all their past intercourse, and while she remembered a hundred acts of kindness and self-sacrifice unmarked at the time, she remembered, too, with acute remorse, many faults on her own side—pert replies, teasing and fretfulness over her lessons. "Oh, if she would only come back just for a minute! If I could only see her just once more!" is the cry of the bereaved; "but I never can—never in all this world." Happy they who can take refuge in the thought,— "But we shall meet again where there is no more parting;—" And a thousand thousand times more to be pitied than the most desolate Christian on earth is he to whom death ends all—he who with his dead buries his hope. It was well for Calista that time brought with it the need for exertion. On the fourth day after the funeral Mr. Fabian called, and Calista was sent for down to the parlor. It seemed to her that she could hardly drag herself down the stairs, or attend to anything when she got there; but she made the effort, and was rewarded by feeling better and brighter for the exercise. Mr. Fabian was very kind and sympathetic, and nearly set Calista's tears flowing again; but she made a great effort to check them, and to give her whole mind to the matter before her. "I do not know, Miss Calista, whether you are aware that your late friend, Miss Druett, made a will." "No, sir," said Calista, as Mr. Fabian seemed to expect a reply. "Did she ever tell you anything about her business matters?" "Yes, once. She told me she had a house in Philadelphia, and that she had received some money from England, from her father I think she said; but she did not tell me how much, only that she had enough for her old age. Latterly she has bought my clothes and given me a little pocket-money now and then."