Capitola took a cup of tea from Mrs. Condiment and passed it on to him in silence.
"Humph! not gone yet, eh? Poor girl, how it must try you," said Old Hurricane.
After supper the old man found his dressing-gown and slippers before the fire all ready for his use.
"Cap, you monkey, you did this," he said, turning around. But Capitola had already left the room.
Next morning at breakfast there was a repetition of the same scene. Early in the forenoon Major Warfield ordered his horses and, attended by Wool rode up to Tip-Top. He did not return either to dinner or tea, but as that circumstance was not unusual, it gave no uneasiness. Mrs. Condiment kept his supper warm, and Capitola had his dressing-gown and slippers ready.
She was turning them before the fire when the old man arrived. He came in quite gayly, saying: "Now, Cap, I think I have found a talisman at last to cast out that 'dumb devil.' I heard you wishing for a watch the other day. Now, as devils belong to eternity, and have no business with time, of course the sight of this little time-keeper must put yours to flight," and so saying he laid upon the table, before the eyes of Capitola, a beautiful little gold watch and chain. She glanced at it as it lay glittering and sparkling in the lamplight, and then turned abruptly and walked away.
"Humph! that's always the way the devils do--fly when they can't stand shot."
Capitola deliberately walked back, laid a paper over the little watch and chain, as if to cover its fascinating sparkle and glitter, and said: "Uncle, your bounty is large and your present is beautiful; but there is something that poor Capitola values more than----"
She paused, dropped her head upon her bosom, a sudden blush flamed up over her face, and tear-drops glittered in her downcast eyes. She put both hands before her burning face for a moment, and then, dropping them, resumed: "Uncle, you rescued me from misery and, perhaps--perhaps, early death; you have heaped benefits and bounties upon me without measure; you have placed me in a home of abundance, honor and security. For all this if I were not grateful I should deserve no less than death. But, uncle, there is a sin that is worse, at least, more ungenerous, than ingratitude; it is to put a helpless fellow-creature under heavy obligations and then treat that grateful creature with undeserved contempt and cruel unkindness." Once more her voice was choked with feeling.