"Well, yes--since you ask me, I have heard pretty considerable harm!" answered Cap, nothing daunted. "Where did you live before you came to Hurricane Hall?" asked Dorcas. "Where I learned to fear God, to speak the truth and to shame the devil!" replied Cap. --"And to force yourself into people's houses against their will!" "There you are again! I tell you that when I learn from the head of this household that I am unwelcome, then I will retreat, and not until then! And now I demand to be presented to the master." "To Colonel Le Noir?" "Yes." "I cannot curse you with 'the curse of a granted prayer!' Colonel Le Noir is away." "Why do you talk so strangely?" inquired Capitola. "It is my whim. Perhaps my head is light." "I should think it was, excessively so! Well--as the master of the house is away, be good enough to present me to the mistress?" "What mistress? There is no mistress here!" replied Dorcas, looking around in strange trepidation. "I mean the young lady, Colonel Le Noir's ward. In lieu of any other lady, she, I suppose, may be considered the mistress of the house!" "Humph! Well, young girl, as you are fully resolved to stand your ground. I suppose there is nothing to do but to put up with you!" said Dorcas. "And put up my horse," added Cap. "He shall be taken care of! But mind, you must depart early in the morning!" said Dorcas, sternly. "Once more, and for the last, Mother Cerberus, I assure you I do not acknowledge your authority to dismiss me!" retorted Capitola. "So show me to the presence of your mistress!" "Perverse, like all the rest! Follow me!" said the housekeeper, leading the way from the hall toward a back parlor. CHAPTER VI. THE INMATE OF THE HIDDEN HOUSE. There is a light around her brow, A holiness in those dark eyes, That show, though wandering earthward now, Her spirit's home is in the skies. --Moore. Pushing open the door, Dorcas Knight exclaimed: "Here is a young lady, Miss Black, from Hurricane Hall, come to see you, Miss Day." And having made this announcement, the woman retired and shut the door behind her. And Capitola found herself in a large, dark, gloomy, wainscoted room, whose tall, narrow windows afforded but little light, and whose immense fireplace and blackened furniture seemed to belong to a past century. The only occupant of this somber apartment was a young girl, seated in pensive thought beside the central table. She was clothed in deep mourning, which only served to throw into fairer relief the beauty of her pearly skin, golden hair and violet eyes. The vision of her mourning robes and melancholy beauty so deeply impressed Capitola that, almost for the first time in her life, she hesitated from a feeling of diffidence, and said gently: "Indeed, I fear that this is an unwarranted intrusion on my part, Miss Day."