"I was on my way to see her," was the reply. "I suppose she is in a fret about her interest, as usual. I have had it by me these ten days, but my poor sister Rolfe was so ill, I did not like to be out of the way." "I heard yesterday she was not as well." "She is not long for this world, though she is more comfortable this morning," said the old man, shaking his head. "Well, it will be a glorious exchange for her, that is one comfort." "A great one, I am sure," said Calista. "Yes, yes, thee is right; but then thee knows the heart will cling to those it loves. Well, I must go on my errand and get back. Thee had better give me the note, perhaps." Calista did so, and drove on to the bank, where she found Mr. Fabian, an elderly white-haired man, of precise, polite manners, who shook her by the hand, and complimented her on her growing resemblance to her father. Calista presented her note, which Mr. Fabian read with interest. "Quite right, quite right, and very sensible on your part, my dear young lady. Yes, I will take care of the things, and have them put into the vault. I knew your father and grandfather well. Pray, call upon me without hesitation if I can be of any service to you." As Calista was waiting a moment for Mr. Fabian to write a receipt and a note for Miss Druett, she heard an old gentleman, who had been sitting in the back office, say to him— "Is not that old Richard Stanfield's granddaughter?" "Granddaughter and heir, if every one had their rights," answered Mr. Fabian in the same tone. "But the second will, if indeed he ever made one, will never be found." "It may turn up yet." "Possibly; and then the girl would be a great heir, for the property has increased tenfold in value. I fear the will will never be found. I suspect some one took care of that." At another time this conversation would have set Calista off into one of the day dreams in which she had so much delighted; but now her head and heart were full of something else. She asked at the school for Miss McPherson, and heard that she was better, and had gone out driving with Miss Meeks and Tessy; for Miss McPherson kept a handsome, roomy carriage, and drove out with some of her young ladies almost every day. It was not till she was on her way home, and had turned into the river road, that Calista remembered Mary Burns and the missing working-case. In fact, Calista's mind and head were full of a new and strange trouble. A fierce contention was going on for that small empire—so small, so great—a human soul.