"I hope it ain't wicked," muttered Chloe, as she descended the stairs, "but if Miss Priscy was obliged to stay in bed the rest of her life, I'd willingly take all the trouble of waiting on her for the sake of the comfort there would be down stairs." It rained hard on Sunday morning, but cleared up at noon; and at three o'clock Calista thought she might venture to go to her Sunday-school. She asked Chloe's advice. "Oh yes, go, honey; it will do you all the good in the world. I'll take care of Miss Priscy, never fear." Calista dressed herself in her new mourning and went out. As she was passing her aunt's door, she heard a peremptory voice call,— "Is that you, Calista?" "Yes, ma'am. Do you want anything? Shall I send Chloe?" "No. Come here, I want to speak to you." Now Calista had worn her black print dress all the morning, and Miss Priscilla had made no remark. Calista took this as a tacit acquiescence, and was rejoicing that the matter had settled itself so easily. But she was mistaken in her reckoning. The fact was, Miss Priscilla had not noticed the dress at all. "Where are you going?" was the first question. And then, with an ominous flash of the eyes, "What is that you have on?" "My new mourning, aunt. Mrs. Fabian got it for me and sent it home last night." "Oh, she did? She is very obliging, I am sure," said Miss Priscilla, in her bitterest sarcastic tone. "Pray did she pay for them?" "No, aunt," answered Calista, with an inward prayer for grace, for she saw that a conflict was impending. "Mr. Fabian paid for them out of Miss Druett's money that she left me." "That she left you!" Miss Priscilla repeated slowly, as though she could hardly believe her ears. "What do you mean?" "Mr. Fabian will tell you all about it, aunt," said Calista, retreating a little. "He is Miss Druett's executor, and has the management of all her affairs. I would rather not talk about it to-day." "Do you mean to say that Druey has gone and left the money she had from England to 'you?'" asked Miss Priscilla, sitting up in bed. "Please wait till to-morrow, aunt," said Calista, determined not to have a dispute on Sunday. "Mr. Fabian will tell you all about it." And she left the room, followed by a string of vituperation which she did not stop to listen to. She met her class and had a pleasant time with them. The little girls were full of sympathy, every one was kind to her, and she came home feeling refreshed and comforted. Chloe met her at the door. "Don't go near your aunt," said she. "She is in one of her tantrums. I've set your supper out in the sitting-room, and when you've eaten it, if you don't go to meeting again, you had better sit in the front parlor. There's some nice books in there that used to be your grandma's, and I'll bring you in a light by and by." "I don't think I will go to meeting, Chloe. I feel rather tired with my walk. It is strange I should mind such a thing when I have walked to town all my life."