"I do believe you love me, Miss Druett, and I love you. I wish I could love Aunt Priscilla, but she won't let me." Miss Druett returned the kiss, and her eyes were suspiciously bright as she said,— "Pity her then, child; you can do that. Now get ready for school, and go into Priscilla's room before you set out. She has a message to send to Mr. Settson. Don't say anything to her about your books. Ask Miss McPherson to provide for you what is absolutely needful, and if Priscilla won't pay the bill, I will contrive to do it myself." Calista went away and got ready for school as she was bidden, and then opened the door of her aunt's room. Miss Priscilla, with a shawl round her shoulders, was sitting up in bed examining an account-book, and looked up impatiently as Calista entered. "What do you want here?" was her polite salutation. "Miss Druett said you wanted to send some message by me," returned Calista, with equal conciseness. "Oh! Well, you may go and see Mr. Settson and tell him I think he must foreclose that mortgage of Simpson's. He will never pay in the world." "His wife is sick so much," said Calista, she hardly knew why. "What is that to you, miss? Are you going to set up to direct my business affairs? Take the message as I tell you." "Very well," answered Calista, dryly; "anything else?" "Anything else! No, nothing else. I suppose you would like to have me give you a commission to buy yourself a silk dress and an India shawl, wouldn't you?" "An India shawl would hardly be suitable for me, but I should like the dress very much," said Calista, with the mischievousness which no amount of snubbing had ever subdued. "Shall I get black or colored, aunt? Clapp has a lovely dark blue, which would be just the thing for me. Shall I bring you a sample?" Miss Priscilla seized the book which lay before her in a way which made Calista dodge, as if she expected to have her ears boxed with it—a thing which had happened before—but Miss Priscilla, if such were her design, relinquished it and contented herself with a threatening shake of her head. Calista went away laughing; but her laugh was suddenly checked. "I ought not to enrage her so," she said to herself. "There is no telling what she might do. But the temptation is so strong to take her at her word. I wonder what she would say if I did. Anyway, I shall have a chance to see Mr. Settson." Calista walked to school—not by the river road, however—and arrived just in time to save a "tardy" mark. At recess the girls were of course engaged in discussing the question of the sale. "What are you going to make, Calista?" asked Antoinette Diaments of Calista, as the latter stood near Miss McPherson, in the school-house porch. She had purposely chosen her time with the amiable intention of mortifying Calista before her schoolmistress; but her scheme failed; and, moreover, involved herself in unexpected trouble.