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MISS MEEKS was right. It was with no pleasant anticipations that Calista took her seat in the rickety chaise which her aunt had sent for her. Old David, who drove, was evidently in a state of deep and dire offence, and nothing could be got out of him except that Miss Priscy was in one of her tantrums, and if Chloe was a-going to stand such goings on any longer, he wasn't.
Calista alighted and went straight up the back stairs to her own room, hoping for a few minutes of solitude in which to collect her spirits. She was disappointed. The door of a certain store-room opposite her own, which was usually kept fast locked, was open, and in it stood Miss Priscilla, clearly in a "tantrum" of the worst sort. Her face was flushed, her cap half off her head, and her gray hair all in disorder. Opposite her stood Miss Druett, more disturbed in appearance than was at all usual with her. Miss Priscilla faced round as Calista came across the passage, and caught her by the arm with a grip that seemed to crush the very bone.