"Oh, yes, yes, Cassius. How shall I ever pay you?" "Bless you, Missy, don't think about that. Who's got a right to help you if I haven't, I should like to know?" The sound of wheels on the carriage-drive brought Mr. Fabian to the door of his handsome, stately old house, and great was his amazement when Cassius stopped his horse, and helped out first Calista and then Chloe. "Calista, is this you? What does it mean?" "Oh, Mr. Fabian, won't you please take me in, and take care of me?" said Calista, her voice quivering with the excitement she had been repressing all day. "Of course I will, and very glad I am to see you," said the old gentleman, grasping the hand held out. "Mrs. Fabian, will you come here?" Mrs. Fabian appeared, stately and beautiful, in her black satin and lace cap,—for old ladies were old ladies in those days. "Now, what is the story?" said Mr. Fabian. Cassius told it in a few words. "What an abominable shame!" said Mrs. Fabian. "The child might have lost her senses, poor dear. I never heard of anything more cruel." The kind words, and the epithet which she had so often heard from her lost friend, finished the break down which had been for some time impending, and Calista burst into a fit of hysterical crying. "There, there, she is quite overdone," said Mrs. Fabian, folding Calista in her motherly arms. "We will get her to bed, and Chloe and Cassius shall have their supper and feed the horse. Perhaps, Chloe, as your mistress is not coming back to-night, you had better stay. There is plenty of room for you." Chloe had calculated on this invitation, and accepted it without scruple. Cassius declined, with many low bows. He must get home and see to his cows, and so on. Mr. Fabian followed him to the door and said something, of which only the conclusion was audible: "Keep your own counsel, and if you get into trouble, I'll stand by you." He pressed something into Cassius's hand, which glittered yellow in the lamplight. Cassius bowed, and disappeared in the darkness, and his horse was heard trotting away. Meantime, Calista had been conveyed up stairs to the most beautiful bed-room she had ever seen, where she was speedily undressed and put to bed. Presently appeared Chloe with an inviting tray, and when it was plain that Calista was too tired to eat, she was tucked up, exhorted to sleep as late as she pleased in the morning, and finally left to her repose. CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. MISS PRISCILLA. IT was just as well that Cassius did not take the river road, for had he done so, he would have met Miss Priscilla at his own gate. Miss Priscilla had allowed herself to act in a passion, and, she had not gone three miles from home before her mind misgave her. She had almost a mind to make a pretence of having left something and turn back. But she was not quite cool yet, and she did very much want to see Mr. Anderson, the lawyer in Graywich, about "that infamous will of Druey's"—so she called it in her own mind.