"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; "Good morning, Cap." Without taking the slightest notice of the salutation, Cap sailed on to her seat. "Humph. Did you hear me say 'Good morning,' Cap?" Without paying the least attention, Capitola reached out her hand and took a cup of coffee from Mrs. Condiment. "Humph! Humph! Good morning, Capitola!" said Old Hurricane, with marked emphasis. Apparently without hearing him. Cap helped herself to a buckwheat cake and daintily buttered it. "Humph! humph! humph! Well as you said yourself, 'a dumb devil is better than a speaking one,'" ejaculated Old Hurricane, as he sat down and subsided into silence. Doubtless the old man would have flown into another passion, had that been possible; but, in truth, he had spent so much vitality in rage number one that he had none left to sustain rage number two. Besides, he knew it would be necessary to blow up Bill Ezy, his lazy overseer, before night, and perhaps saved himself for that performance. He finished his meal in silence and went out. Cap finished hers, and, 'tempering justice with mercy,' went up-stairs to his room and looked over all his appointments and belongings to find what she would do for his extra comfort, and found a job in newly lining his warm slippers and the sleeves of his dressing-gown. They met again at the dinner-table. "How do you do, Cap?" said Old Hurricane, as he took his seat. Capitola poured out a glass of water and drank it in silence.