ket of woods between the river and the rising
ground in front of Hurricane Hall, he overtook Capitola, who, as we
have said, had been out alone with her gun and dog, and was now
returning home with her game bag well laden.

Now, as John Stone looked at Capitola, with her reckless, free and
joyous air, he thought she was just the sort of girl, unconsciously, to
get herself and friends into trouble. And he thought it best to give
her a hint to put an abrupt period to her acquaintance, if she had even
the slightest, with the heir apparent of the Hidden House.

While still hesitating how to begin the conversation, he came up with
the young girl, dismounted, and, leading his horse, walked by her side,
asking carelessly:

"What have you bagged, Cap?"

"Some partridges! Oh, you should have been out with me and Sweetlips!
We've had such sport! But, anyhow, you shall enjoy your share of the
spoils! Come home and you shall have some of these partridges broiled
for supper, with currant sauce--a dish of my own invention for uncle's
sake, you know! He's such a gourmand!"

"Thank you, yes--I am on my way home now. Hem--m! Capitola, I counsel
you to cut the acquaintance of our neighbor, Craven Le Noir."

"I have already done so; but--what in the world is the matter that you
should advise me thus?" inquired Capitola, fixing her eyes steadily
upon the face of John Stone, who avoided her gaze as he answered:

"The man is not a proper associate for a young woman."

"I know that, and have cut him accordingly; but, Cousin John, there is
some reason for your words, that you have not expressed; and as they
concern me, now I insist upon knowing what they are!"

"Tut! it is nothing!" said the other evasively.

"John Stone, I know better! And the more you look down and whip your
boot the surer I am that there is something I ought to know, and I will
know!"

"Well, you termagant! Have your way! He has been speaking lightly of
you--that's all! Nobody minds him--his tongue is no scandal."

"John Stone--what has he said?" asked Capitola, drawing her breath
hardly between her closed teeth.

"Oh, now, why should you ask? It is nothing--it is not proper that I
should tell you," replied that gentleman, in embarrassment.

"'It is nothing,' and yet 'it is not proper that you should tell me!'
How do you make that out? John Stone, leave off lashing the harmless
bushes and listen to me! I have to live in the same neighborhood with
this man,