"They will take you some time, but I dare say you won't mind. Only, if you walk home, don't come by the river road. It is too lonely for you; and I don't fancy having you encounter Zeke or his wife. Here, you may buy yourself something with that," handing her a silver dollar—the very first Calista had ever owned. "How nice!" exclaimed Calista. "Now I can have something of my own to give away." Miss Druett smiled and sighed. "Richard Stanfield, all over," said she. "You don't mind, do you, Miss Druett?" "No, no, child; use it in the way that will give you most pleasure. There, go; I hear Priscilla calling you. If she asks what we were talking about, you can tell her." "Where are you going, child?" was Miss Priscilla's first question. "To school, aunt. You said, last night, I was to finish the term." "Humph! Mind, I didn't say anything about another. What did Druey want of you?" "She wants me to buy her some handkerchiefs and a travelling bag and an umbrella, and to tell the man about her trunk. David took it in when he went to market." "And did she give you the money?" "Yes, aunt." Miss Priscilla groaned. "Well, there, go along, child; and tell Chloe to bring me my breakfast. Does she mean to make me wait all day? But nobody cares what becomes of me. I suppose I shall starve when Druey is gone." "Perhaps she will stay, aunt, if you ask her," said Calista, secretly hoping she would not; for the prospect of going to live with Miss Druett, in the little house with the garden and orchard, had already taken very strong hold on her imagination. "Mind your own business," snarled Miss Priscilla. "There, never mind, child. Go along and send Chloe with my breakfast. And perhaps when you come home, you will look in that room again. You might find something else. Some people are lucky in finding things." "Very well, aunt. I have no objection, if you wish it," said Calista, thinking again of the possibility of finding her grandfather's will. "Only, I am afraid you will accuse me of stealing again, as you did about the working-case." "No, no, I won't. Here, you may have the working-case, if you like; only, don't lose it. It was your grandmother's, and perhaps she might be pleased—there, do go and send up my breakfast." "Two presents from my aunt in two days—what is going to happen?" said Calista to herself. "Oh, how much I have had to think about! It seems a year since I went to school yesterday morning. How odd that she should speak in that way of my grandmother's being pleased, when she does not believe in any existence after death!" CHAPTER ELEVENTH. THE NEEDLE-CASE.