Part 26 (2/2)

There was a vision calculated to test her firmness. Reader, did you ever see a raging lion tearing to and fro the narrow limits of his cage, and occasionally shaking the amphitheatre with his tremendous roar; or a furious bull tossing his head and tail and plowing up the earth with his hoofs as he careered back and forth between the boundaries of his pen?

If you have seen and noted these mad brutes, you may form some idea of the frenzy of Old Hurricane as he stormed up and down the floor of the front piazza.

Cap had just escaped an actual danger of too terrible a character to be frightened now by sound and fury. Composedly she walked up into the porch and said:

”Good evening, uncle.”

The old man stopped short in his furious strides and glared upon her with his terrible eyes.

Cap stood fire without blanching, merely remarking:

”Now, I have no doubt that in the days when you went battling that look used to strike terror into the heart of the enemy, but it doesn't into mine, somehow.”

”Miss!” roared the old man, bringing down his cane with a resounding thump upon the floor; ”miss! how dare you have the impudence to face me, much less the--the--the a.s.surance!--the effrontery!--the audacity!--the bra.s.s! to speak to me!”

”Well, I declare,” said Cap, calmly untying her hat; ”this is the first time I ever heard it was impudent in a little girl to give her uncle good evening!”

The old man trotted up and down the piazza two or three turns, then, stopping short before the delinquent, he struck his cane down upon the floor with a ringing stroke and thundered:

”Young woman, tell me instantly and without prevarication where you've been!”

”Certainly, sir; 'going to and fro in the earth and walking up and down in it,'” said Cap, quietly.

”Flames and furies! that is no answer at all! Where have you been?”

roared Old Hurricane, shaking with excitement.

”Look here, uncle; if you go on that way you'll have a fit presently,”

said Cap, calmly.

”Where have you been?” thundered Old Hurricane.

”Well, since you will know--just across the river and through the woods and back again.”

”And didn't I forbid you to do that, minion? and how dare you disobey me? You the creature of my bounty; you, the miserable little vagrant that I picked up in the alleys of New York and tried to make a young lady of; but an old proverb says 'You can't make a silken purse out of a pig's ear.' How dare you, you little beggar, disobey your benefactor?--a man of my age, character and position? I--I--” Old Hurricane turned abruptly and raged up and down the piazza.

All this time Capitola had been standing quietly, holding up her train with one hand and her riding habit in the other. At this last insult she raised her dark-gray eyes to his face with one long indignant, sorrowful gaze; then, turning silently away and entering the house, she left Old Hurricane to storm up and down the piazza until he had raged himself to rest.

Reader, I do not defend, far less approve, poor Cap. I only tell her story and describe her as I have seen her, leaving her to your charitable interpretation.

Next morning Capitola came down into the breakfast-room with one idea prominent in her hard little head, to which she mentally gave expression:

”Well as I like that old man, he must not permit himself to talk to me in that indecent strain, and so he must be made to know.”

When she entered the breakfast-room she found Mrs. Condiment already at the head of the table and Old Hurricane at the foot. He had quite got over his rage, and turned around blandly to welcome his ward, saying;

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