"Where did you find the will, Calista?" asked Mr. Settson. Calista described the way it had come into her possession. "Exactly. I see it all. He had put it in his pocket to bring to me as he said, when he was taken with this fit. The will slipped through the slit, and has staid there ever since. Well, my dear, you have made a good morning's work. I must examine the document further, but from what I see, I think we shall unseat Miss Priscilla from her high horse without much trouble. Run in and see Mary, and I will tell you the contents of the will when I know them myself." "Perhaps I had better go back," said Calista, blushing. "I came out without seeing any one, and Mrs. Fabian will think it very strange." "Mrs. Fabian will understand that you did quite right when I explain matters to her," said Mr. Fabian; "I will return with you, and come back directly. Have you had your breakfast?" "No, sir." "Dear, dear! Mrs. Fabian will be quite shocked, and we shall have you ill." But Mrs. Fabian was not shocked, nor was Calista ill. She ate her breakfast with a good appetite, and then helped her hostess to rub the skins off Siberian crab-apples, and then punch out the cores with a tin tube, for, like most ladies of the time, Mrs. Fabian took pride and pleasure in preparing quantities of sweetmeats. Oh, what a delight there was in the feeling of perfect quiet and safety! How she enjoyed the shade of the back veranda, where they sat at work, the sight and smell of the garden, the pretty, dainty household work, the sight of Mrs. Fabian's neat French chintz and apron of India grass-cloth, the soft, cultivated voice in which she told Calista anecdotes of her travels abroad, interspersed with mild moral reflections. There were people who considered Mrs. Fabian a thought tedious, but Calista could have listened forever. After dinner Mr. Settson came over, and Calista was informed of the provisions of her grandfather's will. "The Philadelphia property, together with fifteen thousand dollars in money, is left unconditionally to your aunt Priscilla. The Stanfield place, with all the farms, &c., the Cohansey property, and twenty thousand dollars, are left, first to your father, after him to your mother for her life, or so long as she should remain unmarried, and after her to the child or children of Richard Stanfield, share and share alike; the guardianship of said children being given to Mr. Fabian and myself as executors of the will. There are some legacies,—one of a hundred dollars to old Cassius, and as much to the church here, in memory of his last wife." "Then I get more than Aunt Priscilla!" said Calista. "That seems hardly fair." "No, you get a good deal less. The Philadelphia property is worth much more than the Stanfield estate, properly so called. Have you any of your mother's papers?" "Yes, sir; I brought them all with me, for I thought they might be needed." "Very discreet in you. Have you any objection to my looking them over?"