Part 18 (1/2)
Besides, Capitola had not the least particle of gloom, superst.i.tion or marvelousness in her disposition. She loved old houses and old legends well enough to enjoy them; but was not sufficiently credulous to believe, or cowardly to fear, them.
She had, besides, a pleasant morning's occupation before her, in unpacking her three trunks and arranging her wardrobe and her possessions, which were all upon the most liberal scale, for Major Warfield at every city where they had stopped had given his poor little protegee a virtual _carte blanche_ for purchases, having said to her:
”Capitola, I'm an old bachelor; I've not the least idea what a young girl requires; all I know is, that you have nothing but your clothes, and must want sewing and knitting needles and brushes and scissors and combs and boxes and smelling bottles and tooth powder and such. So come along with me to one of those Vanity Fairs they call fancy stores and get what you want; I'll foot the bill.”
And Capitola, who firmly believed that she had the most sacred of claims upon Major Warfield, whose resources she also supposed to be unlimited, did not fail to indulge her taste for rich and costly toys and supplied herself with a large ivory dressing-case, lined with velvet and furnished with ivory-handled combs and brushes, silver boxes and crystal bottles, a papier-mache work-box, with gold thimble, needle-case and perforator and gold-mounted scissors and winders; and an ebony writing-desk, with silver-mounted crystal standishes; each of these--boxes and desk--was filled with all things requisite in the several departments. And now as Capitola unpacked them and arranged them upon the top of her bureau, it was with no small degree of appreciation.
The rest of the forenoon was spent in arranging the best articles of her wardrobe in her bureau drawers.
Having locked the remainder in her trunks and carefully smoothed her hair, and dressed herself in a brown merino, she went down-stairs and sought out Mrs. Condiment, whom she found in the housekeeper's little room, and to whom she said:
”Now, Mrs. Condiment, if uncle has any needlework wanted to be done, any b.u.t.tons to be sewed on, or anything of that kind, just let me have it; I've got a beautiful work-box, and I'm just dying to use it.”
”My dear Miss Black----”
”Please to call me Capitola, or even Cap. I never was called Miss Black in my life until I came here, and I don't like it at all!”
”Well, then, my dear Miss Cap, I wish you would wait till to-morrow, for I just came in here in a great hurry to get a gla.s.s of brandy out of the cupboard to put in the sauce for the plum-pudding, as dinner will be on the table in ten minutes.”
With a shrug of her little shoulders, Capitola left the housekeeper's room and hurried through the central front hall and out at the front door, to look about and breathe the fresh air for a while.
As she stepped upon the front piazza she saw Major Warfield walking up the steep lawn, followed by Wool, leading a pretty mottled iron-gray pony, with a side-saddle on his back.
”Ah, I'm glad you're down, Cap! Come! look at this pretty pony! he is good for nothing as a working horse, and is too light to carry my weight, and so I intend to give him to you! You must learn to ride,”
said the old man, coming up the steps.
”Give him to me! I learn to ride! Oh, uncle! Oh, uncle! I shall go perfectly crazy with joy!” exclaimed Cap, dancing and clapping her hands with delight.
”Oh, well, a tumble or two in learning will bring you back to your senses, I reckon!”
”Oh, uncle! oh, uncle! When shall I begin?”
”You shall take your first tumble immediately after dinner, when, being well filled, you will not be so brittle and apt to break in falling!”
”Oh, uncle! I shall not fall! I feel I shan't! I feel I've a natural gift for holding on!”
”Come, come; get in! get in! I want my dinner!” said Old Hurricane, driving his ward in before him to the dining-room, where the dinner was smoking upon the table.
After dinner Cap, with Wool for a riding-master, took her first lesson in equestrianism. She had the four great requisites for forming a good rider--a well-adapted figure, a fondness for the exercise, perfect fearlessness and presence of mind. She was not once in danger of losing her seat, and during that single afternoon's exercise she made considerable progress in learning to manage her steed.
Old Hurricane, whom the genial autumn afternoon had tempted out to smoke his pipe in his armchair on the porch, was a pleased spectator of her performances, and expressed his opinion that in time she would become the best rider in the neighborhood, and that she should have the best riding-dress and cap that could be made at Tip Top.
Just now, in lack of an equestrian dress, poor Cap was parading around the lawn with her head bare and her hair flying and her merino skirt exhibiting more ankles than grace.
It was while Old Hurricane still sat smoking his pipe and making his comments and Capitola still ambled around and around the lawn that a horseman suddenly appeared galloping as fast as the steep nature of the ground would admit up toward the house, and before they could form an idea who he was the horse was at the block, and the rider dismounted and standing before Major Warfield.
”Why, Herbert, my boy, back so soon? We didn't expect you for a week to come. This is sudden, indeed! So much the better! so much the better!
Glad to see you, lad!” exclaimed Old Hurricane, getting up and heartily shaking the hand of his nephew.
Capitola came ambling up, and in the effort to spring nimbly from her saddle tumbled off, much to the delight of Wool, who grinned from ear to ear, and of Old Hurricane, who, with an ”I said so,” burst into a roar of laughter.