"What the demon do you mean by that?" cried Old Hurricane. "Sir!" she exclaimed, bringing down one foot with a sharp stamp; "sir! how dare you have the impudence to face me? much less the--the--the--the brass! the bronze! the copper! to speak to me!" "Why, what in the name of all the lunatics in Bedlam does the girl mean? Is she crazy?" exclaimed the old man, gazing upon her in astonishment. Capitola turned and strode furiously up and down the piazza, and then, stopping suddenly and facing him, with a sharp stamp of her foot exclaimed: "Old gentleman! Tell me instantly and without prevarication, where have you been?" "To the demon with you! What do you mean? Have you taken leave of your senses?" demanded Old Hurricane. Capitola strode up and down the floor a few times, and, stopping short and shaking her fist, exclaimed: "Didn't you know, you headstrong, reckless, desperate, frantic veteran--didn't you know the jeopardy in which you placed yourself in riding out alone at this hour? Suppose three or four great runaway negresses had sprung out of the bushes and--and--and----" She broke off apparently for want of breath, and strode up and down the floor; then, pausing suddenly before him, with a stern stamp of her foot and a fierce glare of her eye, she continued: "You shouldn't have come back here any more! No dishonored old man should have entered the house of which I call myself the mistress!" "Oh, I take! I take! ha, ha, ha! Good, Cap, good! You are holding up the glass before me; but your mirror is not quite large enough to reflect 'Old Hurricane,' my dear. 'I owe one,'" said the old man, as he passed into the house, followed by his capricious favorite. CHAPTER XVIII. THE DOCTOR'S DAUGHTER. Oh, her smile, it seemed half holy, As if drawn from thoughts more far, Than our common jestings are. And, if any painter drew her, He would paint her unaware With a hallow round her hair. --E. B. Browning. On the appointed day Traverse took his way to Willow Heights to keep his tryst and enter upon his medical studies in the good doctor's office. He was anxious also to know if his patron had as yet thought of any plan by which his mother might better her condition. He was met at the door by little Mattie, the parlor-maid, who told him to walk right up-stairs into the study, where her master was expecting him. Traverse went up quietly and opened the door of that pleasant study-room, to which the reader has already been introduced, and the windows of which opened upon the upper front piazza. Now, however, as it was quite cold, the windows were down, though the blinds were open, and through them streamed the golden rays of the morning sun that fell glistening upon the fair hair and white raiment of a young girl who sat reading before the fire.