CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH.

MR. FABIAN CALLS AGAIN.

MRS. FABIAN was true to her word, and by her exertions, ably seconded by those of Drusella Pine, a very handsome and proper suit of mourning was sent home to Calista on Saturday night, accompanied by a kind little note from Mrs. Fabian, and a present of a black feather fan. Calista was pleased with the present and still more with the note, and she would not have been a girl of sixteen if she had not felt a slight movement of gratified vanity as she looked at herself in the glass and saw how very neat and becoming was the fresh bombazine and crape, and the black cottage bonnet with its plain white border inside.

"Well, you do look like a real lady, Miss Calista," said Chloe, who had assisted at the trying on; "and it does me good to see you wearing decent clothes, as a young lady ought. Did Mrs. Fabian send you any everyday things?"

"Yes, a nice black calico; and she says she will have a black stuff made for me. Isn't she kind?"

"Law, yes! The Fabians are real quality, and know what's what. None of your new-come-up folks they ain't. I heard say something about your going to boarding-school; is that so?"

"Yes; Miss Druett wished it, and Mr. Fabian thinks it best."

"Well, I am glad of it, though what this house will be like without Miss Druett and you, I can't say. But this I will say, it is not the place for you. Miss Priscilla is bewitched by that old Jael, and there's no telling what will come of it. Besides, you ought to be with some one who knows how young ladies ought to behave, and who will take an interest in your education. It's my belief if it hadn't been for Miss Druett, you wouldn't even have learned to read and write."

"I am of the same mind, Chloe. Looking back, I can see how she has befriended me all my life. I don't think I ever thought half enough of her when I had her."

"That's the way we all feel, honey," said Chloe. "It's just so with me. I know I was aggravating lots of times when I needn't have been. Wasn't it a blessed thing that she died such a happy death, and that Mr. Alger could say, as he did, that she died a Christian?"

"Yes, indeed."

"But, honey, I expect you'll have a regular fuss with Miss Priscilla about the will when she comes to know it. She said she meant to see Mr. Fabian, and get the money, just as soon as she was able. I don't think she has a notion of the way things are left, because she said to me that she would put out the money to much better advantage than Miss Druett. I didn't say a word, for I thought, least said soonest mended. I suppose you'll put on your new clothes to-morrow."

"Yes, if I go to church."

"There's another thing you'll have a fuss about, I expect," said Chloe, as she assisted Calista in folding and laying away her new dress and mantle. "I mean your wearing mourning. Miss Priscy hates to see any one in black. She says it is such a waste; but I think it is because she don't like to be reminded of her latter end."

"Then if it annoys her, I won't wear it in the house while I stay here. Shall I unpin the veil from the bonnet?"

"Oh yes, and lay it smooth in the same folds. A crape veil will last a long time if one is careful of it. And do the same by your shawl. Some ladies' things always look as if they had been kept under the bed, because they don't take care of them when they take them off. Now what would you like for your supper, honey?"

"Just what you have. I would as soon have bread and milk as anything, only I should like some tea."

"I hope it ain't wicked," muttered Chloe, as she descended the stairs, "but if Miss Priscy was obliged to stay in bed the rest of her life, I'd willingly take all the trouble of waiting on her for the sake of the comfort there would be down stairs."

It rained hard on Sunday morning, but cleared up at noon; and at three o'clock Calista thought she might venture to go to her Sunday-school. She asked Chloe's advice.

"Oh yes, go, honey; it will do you all the good in the world. I'll take care of Miss Priscy, never fear."

Calista dressed herself in her new mourning and went out. As she was passing her aunt's door, she heard a peremptory voice call,—

"Is that you, Calista?"

"Yes, ma'am. Do you want anything? Shall I send Chloe?"

"No. Come here, I want to speak to you."

Now Calista had worn her black print dress all the morning, and Miss Priscilla had made no remark. Calista took this as a tacit acquiescence, and was rejoicing that the matter had settled itself so easily. But she was mistaken in her reckoning. The fact was, Miss Priscilla had not noticed the dress at all.

"Where are you going?" was the first question. And then, with an ominous flash of the eyes, "What is that you have on?"

"My new mourning, aunt. Mrs. Fabian got it for me and sent it home last night."

"Oh, she did? She is very obliging, I am sure," said Miss Priscilla, in her bitterest sarcastic tone. "Pray did she pay for them?"

"No, aunt," answered Calista, with an inward prayer for grace, for she saw that a conflict was impending. "Mr. Fabian paid for them out of Miss Druett's money that she left me."

"That she left you!" Miss Priscilla repeated slowly, as though she could hardly believe her ears. "What do you mean?"

"Mr. Fabian will tell you all about it, aunt," said Calista, retreating a little. "He is Miss Druett's executor, and has the management of all her affairs. I would rather not talk about it to-day."

"Do you mean to say that Druey has gone and left the money she had from England to 'you?'" asked Miss Priscilla, sitting up in bed.

"Please wait till to-morrow, aunt," said Calista, determined not to have a dispute on Sunday. "Mr. Fabian will tell you all about it." And she left the room, followed by a string of vituperation which she did not stop to listen to.

She met her class and had a pleasant time with them. The little girls were full of sympathy, every one was kind to her, and she came home feeling refreshed and comforted.

Chloe met her at the door.

"Don't go near your aunt," said she. "She is in one of her tantrums. I've set your supper out in the sitting-room, and when you've eaten it, if you don't go to meeting again, you had better sit in the front parlor. There's some nice books in there that used to be your grandma's, and I'll bring you in a light by and by."

"I don't think I will go to meeting, Chloe. I feel rather tired with my walk. It is strange I should mind such a thing when I have walked to town all my life."

"You're worn out, honey; that is just what it is," said Chloe. "You ain't made of cast iron more than any one else. Eat your supper, and take care of your new frock. Milk spots black worse than anything."

Calista took the advice given her, and then retreated to the front parlor. She had never examined the little cupboards by the chimney. Indeed, they had usually been kept locked, but now they were open, and Calista eagerly looked over their contents. There were a few very early specimens of the Annuals—a species of literature which seems to have wholly died out; but the books mostly consisted of sets of the "Spectator" and "Rambler," and religious books of which there were a good many and of high character—Thomas à Kempis, Taylor's "Holy Living," "The Whole Duty of Man," Law's "Serious Call," and the like. Calista took down the last, and was soon fascinated, as any person of taste must be, by the exquisite style, the wit, and solid excellence of the matter.

She read till it was too dark to see, and then sat watching the fireflies, which spangled everything, and the moon, which just touched the higher clouds with silver. She tried to keep her thoughts on other things, but the questions would rise, "What was she to do? Was it her duty to stay on where she was? Could she possibly live with Aunt Priscilla?"

"But I am borrowing trouble," she said to herself at last. "My aunt gave up all care of me to Miss Druett, and she said Mr. Fabian was my guardian and would decide for me, so, of course, he will settle all that. I wouldn't be him when he calls to-morrow. I don't think aunt need grudge me my little fortune. Surely she has enough. I heard Mr. Fabian and that other gentleman say that the estate had increased in value tenfold. But I will not think of business to-night—so there!"

And drawing nearer to her the candle Chloe had brought, she applied herself once more to the "Serious Call." She read on, more and more interested, till a sudden rustle caused her to turn round. Some one was at the window, that was certain; some one who disappeared in a moment. She went to the window and looked out. There was nothing to be seen, but as she drew together and barred the shutters, she heard a low hollow laugh or chuckle, which she knew too well.

"So that horrid woman has come back," she said to herself. "Mr. Fabian is right. It will never do for me to stay here."

She could not feel very comfortable alone in the great room with its heavy, faded damask hanging, where her one candle made such grim shadows of the old-fashioned furniture. She took her book and candle, and, slipping off her shoes, she crept softly up to her own room and fastened the door, which had no bolt inside, by putting one of her trunks against it. She sat reading a long time, till all was quiet in the house. Then she said her prayers, and going to bed, she fell asleep like a baby.

The next morning, to her utter amazement, she went down stairs to find her aunt dressed, and sitting waiting for her breakfast. Such a thing had not happened for years.

"Why, Aunt Priscilla, how smart you are getting!" she exclaimed pleasantly. "When have you been down to breakfast before?"

"Oh, I am not quite superannuated yet, though you and your Fabians would like to make me so. Yes, you and your Fabians, with your plots and plans," she added, shaking her head. "You will find out, Miss, you poor-house child that I took out of charity that you might turn me out of house and home. Yes, yes! I meant to make you rich at last, but you'll see what you have gained by your plots and plans. You'll see!"

"Indeed, aunt, I have done nothing to injure you," said Calista, gently. "I don't ask anything of you but kind treatment and a little love. Come, aunt, let us be friends for the sake of her that is gone."

Calista's voice trembled, and she drew near to her aunt and bent down as if to kiss her, but Miss Priscilla pushed her off.

"There, go away. If you must make a sentimental fuss, go and see about breakfast; we shall not have it over by the time that old fool gets here."

Breakfast, however, was over and out of the way before the person so politely designated arrived.

Calista was not called to the conference till just at its close. As she entered the room, she heard Miss Priscilla say, in the loftily polite manner which she could assume if she chose:

"I am sorry to have been the cause of your forgetting yourself and being so violent, Mr. Fabian. I had always supposed you to be a person of quite a different stamp. I see now how wise my father was in refusing to sanction your addresses."

"And I see what an idiotic young fool I was ever to have made them," muttered Mr. Fabian, evidently much discomfited. "Be that as it may, madam," he continued, aloud, "I assure you that the will of your late friend is perfectly legal in every respect, and if you dispute it, you will lose your money."

"That remains to be seen, sir. Meantime, my niece remains in my custody. I have brought her up and educated her, and I intend that she shall stay with me till she is of age, and be governed by me in all things."

Calista cast a glance of consternation at her friend.

"Do not be alarmed, my dear," said Mr. Fabian. "You shall remain with this—this 'person' no longer than till I can obtain the proper legal power to take possession of you."

Mr. Fabian pronounced the word "person" with a look and emphasis which gave it all the effect of the most vituperative epithet. "Mr. Settson is expected home to-day, and then we will arrange the whole matter. Do not be afraid; no one shall hurt you."

"No harm is likely to come to her under this roof, whatever might happen anywhere else," said Miss Priscilla. "I have allowed the young person much more liberty than was for her good, to gratify the whims of my late companion and housekeeper, Miss Druett—"

"Oh! So she was your housekeeper!" said Mr. Fabian, taking out his tablets and making a note of the words. "You will please remember these words, Calista. They may be important."

"Of my late companion and friend, as I supposed her," continued Miss Priscilla, without noticing the interruption. "She has been going about to Methodist meetings and other places unfit for any decent young person. I shall permit this no longer; but as to any ill-treatment, I hope my character and that of my family are a guarantee against anything of that kind. I will not detain you any longer. Good-morning!"

Mr. Fabian bowed, and whispered to Calista to keep up good courage.

Miss Priscilla accompanied him to the door with the greatest politeness.

Calista, meantime, fled to her own room and fastened the door as well as she could. She had hardly done so when she heard it locked on the outside. Then she heard her aunt's voice ordering David to get up the chaise and be ready to drive her to Graywich.

"I shall not be at home till to-morrow," she said to Chloe, in unusually gracious accents; "so, if you choose, Chloe, you can go to town and stay with your sister. Indeed, I prefer that you should do so. I shall feel safer if the house is locked up."

"But where is Miss Calista? She can't stay here alone," objected Chloe. "And what about the cows?"

"Miss Calista has gone to town with Mr. Fabian. Did you not see her in the carriage? As to the cows, Davis will see to them."

"Oh!" said Chloe. "Then I guess I'll go over to Sally's. Jubalina is out, helping at Mrs. Whitecar's. And I'll take my new frock along and get Drusella to cut it for me. Hadn't I better take the key to the kitchen door, so's I can come and have things ready for you?"

"No, I prefer to carry all the keys myself. Go and get ready, for I am in a hurry."

No more was said, and Calista began to reflect on her position with some consternation. She did not at all relish the idea of being left locked up in the great empty house without food all night, and besides she had no notion of the lengths to which her aunt might go in her madness, for as such Calista regarded her conduct. She might, however, only mean to break her niece's spirit by hunger and solitude, and thus gain her ends.

"But she will find herself mistaken," thought Calista, proudly; "she does not know with whom she has to do."

The two servants slept in a room opening from the outer kitchen, and Miss Priscilla watched Chloe so carefully as to prevent her going up stairs at all.

Calista in her prison heard all the doors locked one after another, and the chaise roll away. She tried the door, but it was fast; her room being in the highest part of the house, she could not think for a moment of throwing herself out of the window. She tried the door with all her strength, but it would not yield to her efforts. She was sitting down to rest and compose her thoughts, when she heard a welcome voice under the window call softly—

"Honey, are you there?"

Calista sprang to the window and put her head out.

"Oh, Chloe, is it you? I thought every one had left me."

"Didn't I tell you so?" said Chloe, addressing nobody in particular. "I didn't believe you went away in that carriage. Have you got a string you can let down?"

Calista found a roll of tape in her work-box, and let it down.

Chloe fastened a basket to it.

"There's some dinner for you," said she. "I mistrusted all the time you were here, and so Chloe put you up a nice basket. Now listen to me. You will have to stay where you are till dusk. Nothing will hurt you, and do you pack up all your trunks, and put all your best things in one. Keep up a good heart, honey, and if you hear strange noises and scratching round about dusk, don't you be scared. Cash has got a plan for you in his head. There, good-bye; eat your dinner, keep a good heart, and we'll show Miss Priscy that there is more than one way to the woods, and out of them too."

Calista felt the wisdom of this advice. She made a hearty dinner, and then began to pack up her trunks, putting together in one all her most valuable articles and those she was most likely to need, as Chloe had advised. She had in her possession the new travelling bag she had bought for Miss Druett, and in that she bestowed her dressing things and other small matters. This being finished, she took a book and read for a long time.

It was growing dusk, when, as Chloe had foreboded, she began to hear a distant stir and rustling, and low, cautious voices. She listened intently: something was certainly stirring in the large disused closet, wherein were stowed the old clothes that her aunt had destined for carpet-rags. She opened the door, and as she did so, another door, which she had never suspected, opened in the wooden partition opposite, and the dark, friendly faces of Cassius and Chloe appeared in the opening.

"Here she is, all safe and sound," said Cassius. "Now we must hurry, for I mistrust the old lady may get back to-night, after all. Which trunk do you need most, Missy? For we can't take but one."

Calista indicated the one she wished to take.

"All right," said Chloe. "Now, help me, Cash, and we'll put the others where Miss Priscy won't find them in a month of Sundays."

Calista waited with what patience she could till the trunks were bestowed somewhere in the dark void on which the closet opened.

"That's all right; now for this one. Come along, Missy, and mind your steps. The garret is pretty dark. Shut your eyes a minute, and you'll see better."

Calista followed, wondering more and more. Chloe shut both closet-doors behind them. They passed through the garret and down a short stairway which seemed to wind round the chimney, then through another closet similar to the one up stairs, and Calista found herself in a large bed-room on the second floor, which she recognized as her father's old room.

"All right so far, but I'm glad that trunk wasn't any bigger," said Cassius; "now it's all plain sailing. Shut all the doors behind us, Chloe, and leave everything straight."

They descended to the first floor. Cassius opened a side-door, and it was with a feeling of exultation that Calista found herself in the open air.

"Is it possible she left a door unfastened?" said Calista.

"Not she," returned Cassius. "Young master gave me a key to this door years ago, and I kept it for a kind of keepsake. But let's get on the road, and I'll tell you all about it."

"Won't you take the river road?" asked Chloe. "It's more lonesomer."

"Either road is lonesome enough at this time," answered Cassias; "and I want to get Missy into safe keeping. Have you got anything to put round you, Missy? It is sort of chilly."

"Yes, I took down this old cloak, which was hanging in the closet," said Calista.

"That is my master's old military cloak, which he wore in war times," said Cassius. "He had it on when he was took for death. Some time, Missy, if you don't want it, I should like to have that cloak; but I don't want it in my house just now."

They were soon stowed in the Jersey wagon, which was tied before the gate, and the stout little horse was going over the road at a fine pace, as if he did not mind his load in the least.

"And now, do tell me how you got in?" said Calista. "And what is the story of that closet?"

"Oh, it is all plain enough," answered Cassius. "You see Chloe mistrusted all the time that you didn't go away with Mr. Fabian, because she did not see you go out, and she told me so. So Sally says,—

"'You'd better go and make sure, and take the poor thing something to eat.' For Sally, she can't bear to think of any one's going hungry.

"Says I, 'If she is there, I reckon we can get her out easy enough.'

"You see young master and me, we used to go out night-fishing, and he had a key to the little side-door, and he and I, we built that little staircase round the chimney and through the closets, so I could come down to his room any time. Your grandpa knew it, and thought it was only a frolic. Whether Miss Priscy did or not I don't know. She was away at the time we built it, I remember. When young Master Richard went away, he gave me that key to the side-door, and told me to keep it till he came back. So as nobody ever used the door, I took it away with me when I went, for a kind of keepsake. But it took a sight of oil to make it turn smooth, I can tell you. I little thought what good it was going to do. But I kind of wish you hadn't taken the coat."

"I don't think she'll miss it," said Calista. "She gave it to me with a parcel of other old clothes to cut into carpet-rags, a long while ago, and she has never asked for the things since. Anyhow, I can send it back to her if she wants it."

"Yes, we'll fix that easy enough," said Chloe. "Here we come."

"I guess we'd better drive right to Mr. Fabian's, hadn't we?" asked Cassius.

"Oh, yes, yes, Cassius. How shall I ever pay you?"

"Bless you, Missy, don't think about that. Who's got a right to help you if I haven't, I should like to know?"

The sound of wheels on the carriage-drive brought Mr. Fabian to the door of his handsome, stately old house, and great was his amazement when Cassius stopped his horse, and helped out first Calista and then Chloe.

"Calista, is this you? What does it mean?"

"Oh, Mr. Fabian, won't you please take me in, and take care of me?" said Calista, her voice quivering with the excitement she had been repressing all day.

"Of course I will, and very glad I am to see you," said the old gentleman, grasping the hand held out. "Mrs. Fabian, will you come here?"

Mrs. Fabian appeared, stately and beautiful, in her black satin and lace cap,—for old ladies were old ladies in those days.

"Now, what is the story?" said Mr. Fabian.

Cassius told it in a few words.

"What an abominable shame!" said Mrs. Fabian. "The child might have lost her senses, poor dear. I never heard of anything more cruel."

The kind words, and the epithet which she had so often heard from her lost friend, finished the break down which had been for some time impending, and Calista burst into a fit of hysterical crying.

"There, there, she is quite overdone," said Mrs. Fabian, folding Calista in her motherly arms. "We will get her to bed, and Chloe and Cassius shall have their supper and feed the horse. Perhaps, Chloe, as your mistress is not coming back to-night, you had better stay. There is plenty of room for you."

Chloe had calculated on this invitation, and accepted it without scruple.

Cassius declined, with many low bows. He must get home and see to his cows, and so on.

Mr. Fabian followed him to the door and said something, of which only the conclusion was audible: "Keep your own counsel, and if you get into trouble, I'll stand by you."

He pressed something into Cassius's hand, which glittered yellow in the lamplight.

Cassius bowed, and disappeared in the darkness, and his horse was heard trotting away.

Meantime, Calista had been conveyed up stairs to the most beautiful bed-room she had ever seen, where she was speedily undressed and put to bed. Presently appeared Chloe with an inviting tray, and when it was plain that Calista was too tired to eat, she was tucked up, exhorted to sleep as late as she pleased in the morning, and finally left to her repose.