"Well, my dear, you will want a waiting-woman, anyhow; and I think I will send Pitapat to wait on you; she can sleep on a pallet in your room, and be some company."
"And who is Pitapat, Mrs. Condiment?"
"Pitapat? Lord, child, she is the youngest of the housemaids. I've called her Pitapat ever since she was a little one beginning to walk, when she used to steal away from her mother, Dorcas, the cook, and I would hear her little feet coming pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, up the dark stairs up to my room. As it was often the only sound to be heard in the still house, I grew to call my little visitor Pitapat."
"Then let me have Pitapat by all means. I like company, especially company that I can send away when I choose."
"Very well, my dear; and now I think you'd better smooth your hair and come down with me to tea, for it is full time, and the major, as you may know, is not the most patient of men."
Capitola took a brush from her traveling-bag, hastily arranged her black ringlets and announced herself ready.
They left the room and traversed the same labyrinth of passages, stairs, empty rooms and halls back to the dining-room, where a comfortable fire burned and a substantial supper was spread.
Old Hurricane took Capitola's hand with a hearty grasp, and placed her in a chair at the side, and then took his own seat at the foot of the table.
Mrs. Condiment sat at the head and poured out the tea.
"Uncle," said Capitola, suddenly, "what is under the trap-door in my room?"
"What! Have they put you in that room?" exclaimed the old man, hastily looking up.
"There was no other one prepared, sir," said the housekeeper.
"Besides, I like it very well, uncle," said Capitola.
"Humph! humph! humph!" grunted the old man, only half satisfied.
"But, uncle, what is under the trap-door?" persisted Capitola; "what's under it?"
"Oh, I don't know--an old cave that was once used as a dry cellar until an underground stream broke through and made it too damp, so it is said. I never explored it."
"But, uncle, what about the----"
Here Mrs. Condiment stretched out her foot and trod upon the toes of Capitola so sharply that it made her stop short, while she dexterously changed the conversation by asking the major if he would not send Wool to Tip-Top in the morning for another bag of coffee.