"Oh, she cannot do them at all," said Calista; "she has broken her arm, and her niece has all she can do with the girls' examination dresses. But I heard Cassius say that his step-daughter, Drusella Pine, was coming here directly to set up dressmaking. I know Miss Alice had her last summer, and was very much pleased with her. I might find out when she is expected." "True, and with the horse you will not be afraid to come round that way. If I were a little richer, you should have a pretty white frock. However, we will talk of that another time. Here are your trinkets and a note to Mr. Fabian. Take care you don't lay the bag out of your hand, and go straight to the bank the first thing." "May I go up to the school and ask for Miss McPherson? She had one of her bad headaches yesterday." "Yes, but don't stay. I shall feel rather anxious till you are safe at home." "Why to-day more than any day?" "Because I am an old fool, child." "How foolish I have been!" she said to herself. "I believe I have been of some use to the child as it was, but what comfort we might have been to each other if I had not been so determined to nurse my anger and grief all my life! Even now, at my age, I can hardly help being jealous of the dead mother's cloak. Truly, the sorrow of the world worketh death." Miss Druett did not often quote Scripture, but she had done so once or twice lately. After Calista had gone, she went into her room to see that everything was safely secured. Her eyes fell upon Calista Folsom's Bible, and taking it in her hand, she sat down and read a long time. "What have you been about all the morning, Druey?" said Miss Priscilla, as they sat down to their twelve o'clock dinner. They were alone, for Calista had not yet returned. "You would never believe it if I were to tell you, Priscilla," was the answer. "I have been reading the Bible." "What ails everybody?" was Miss Priscilla's comment. "Here Chloe tells me that old Mr. Alger is going to preach in the old meeting-house every Sunday evening. There must be something in the air. We shall have you turning Methodist and leading a class yet." "I might do worse," said Miss Druett. I incline to think Miss Priscilla was right, and that there was something stirring in the air about the Stanfield neighborhood, a-going in the tops of the trees, as it were, which might be a sign that a gracious rain was about to fall on that hitherto dry and barren ground. CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. THE OLD MEETING-HOUSE. CALISTA had truly said that she and Jeff understood each other. To oblige her, he even condescended to trot. Just as she reached the town, she met the delinquent Joseph Anderson, and stopped to talk with him. "Good-morning, Friend Anderson. I was just coming to bring you a note from my aunt."