He immediately called for his horse and rode home.

In crossing the thicket of woods between the river and the rising

ground in front of Hurricane Hall, he overtook Capitola, who, as we

have said, had been out alone with her gun and dog, and was now

returning home with her game bag well laden.

Now, as John Stone looked at Capitola, with her reckless, free and

joyous air, he thought she was just the sort of girl, unconsciously, to

get herself and friends into trouble. And he thought it best to give

her a hint to put an abrupt period to her acquaintance, if she had even

the slightest, with the heir apparent of the Hidden House.

While still hesitating how to begin the conversation, he came up with

the young girl, dismounted, and, leading his horse, walked by her side,

asking carelessly: "What have you bagged, Cap?"

"Some partridges! Oh, you should have been out with me and Sweetlips!

We've had such sport! But, anyhow, you shall enjoy your share of the

spoils! Come home and you shall have some of these partridges broiled

for supper, with currant sauce--a dish of my own invention for uncle's

sake, you know! He's such a gourmand!"

"Thank you, yes--I am on my way home now. Hem--m! Capitola, I counsel

you to cut the acquaintance of our neighbor, Craven Le Noir."

"I have already done so; but--what in the world is the matter that you

should advise me thus?" inquired Capitola, fixing her eyes steadily

upon the face of John Stone, who avoided her gaze as he answered: "The man is not a proper associate for a young woman."

"I know that, and have cut him accordingly; but, Cousin John, there is

some reason for your words, that you have not expressed; and as they

concern me, now I insist upon knowing what they are!"

"Tut! it is nothing!" said the other evasively.

"John Stone, I know better! And the more you look down and whip your

boot the surer I am that there is something I ought to know, and I will

know!"

"Well, you termagant! Have your way! He has been speaking lightly of

you--that's all! Nobody minds him--his tongue is no scandal."

"John Stone--what has he said?" asked Capitola, drawing her breath

hardly between her closed teeth.

"Oh, now, why should you ask? It is nothing--it is not proper that I

should tell you," replied that gentleman, in embarrassment.

"'It is nothing,' and yet 'it is not proper that you should tell me!'

How do you make that out? John Stone, leave off lashing the harmless

bushes and listen to me! I have to live in the same neighborhood with

this man, after you have gone away, and I insist upon knowing the whole

length and breadth of his baseness and malignity, that I may know how

to judge and punish him!" said Capitola, with such grimness of

resolution that Mr. Stone, provoked at her perversity, answered: "Well, you wilful girl, listen!" And commencing, he mercilessly told

her all that had passed at the table.




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