"Except yourself, dear uncle!" said Capitola.
"Except nobody, Miss Impudence!--least of all me! The experience of the
last week has convinced me that I ought to have a cap and bells awarded
me by public acclamation!" said Old Hurricane, stamping about in fury.
The good minister finding that he could make no sort of impression upon
the irate old man, soon took his leave, telling Mrs. Condiment that if
he could be of any service to her in her trouble she must be sure to
let him know.
At this Capitola and Mrs. Condiment exchanged looks, and the old lady,
thanking him for his kindness, said that if it should become necessary,
she should gratefully avail herself of it.
That day the camp meeting broke up.
Major Warfield struck tents and with his family and baggage returned to
Hurricane Hall.
On their arrival, each member of the party went about his or her own
particular business.
Capitola hurried to her own room to take off her bonnet and shawl.
Pitapat, before attending her young mistress, lingered below to
astonish the housemaids with accounts of "Brack Donel, dress up like an
ole parson, an' 'ceiving everybody, even ole Marse!"
Mrs. Condiment went to her store room to inspect the condition of her
newly put up preserves and pickles, lest any of them should have
"worked" during her absence.
And Old Hurricane, attended by Wool, walked down to his kennels and his
stables to look after the well-being of his favorite hounds and horses.
It was while going through this interesting investigation that Major
Warfield was informed--principally by overhearing the gossip of the
grooms with Wool--of the appearance of a new inmate of the Hidden
House--a young girl, who, according to their description, must have
been the very pearl of beauty.
Old Hurricane pricked up his ears! Anything relating to the "Hidden
House" possessed immense interest for him.
"Who is she, John?" he inquired of the groom.
"'Deed I dunno, sir, only they say she's a bootiful young creature,
fair as any lily, and dressed in deep mourning."
"Humph! humph! humph! another victim! Ten thousand chances to one,
another victim! who told you this, John?"
"Why, Marse, you see Tom Griffith, the Rev. Mr. Goodwin's man, he's
very thick long of Davy Hughs, Colonel Le Noir's coachman. And Davy he
told Tom how one day last month his marse ordered the carriage, and
went two or three days' journey up the country beyant Staunton, there
he stayed a week and then came home, fetching along with him in the
carriage this lovely young lady, who was dressed in the deepest
mourning, and wept all the way. They 'spects how she's an orphan, and
has lost all her friends, by the way she takes on."