"Oh, may the Lord in heaven bless and preserve and reward you, my
brave, my noble, my heroic Capitola!" said Clara, fervently, with
the tears rushing to her eyes.
"Bosh!" said Cap. "If you go doing the sentimental you won't look
like me a bit, and that will spoil all. There! keep your veil close,
for it's windy, you know; throw back your head and fling yourself
along with a swagger, as if you didn't care, ahem! for anybody, and-
-there you are!" said Cap, pushing Clara out and shutting the door
behind her.
Clara paused an instant to offer up one short, fervent prayer for
her success and Capitola's safety, and then following her
instructions, went on.
Nearly all girls are clever imitators, and Clara readily adopted
Capitola's light, springy, swaying walk, and met old Dorcas Knight
in the hall, without exciting the slightest suspicion of her
identity.
"Humph!" said the woman; "so you are going! I advise you not to come
back again!"
Clara threw up her head with a swagger, and went on.
"Very well, you may scorn my words, but if you know your own good
you'll follow my advice!" said Dorcas Knight, harshly.
Clara flung up her head and passed out.
Before the door Wool was waiting with the horses. Keeping her face
closely muffled, Clara went to Capitola's pony. Wool came and helped
her into the saddle, saying:
"Yer does right, Miss Cap, to keep your face kivered; it's awful
windy, ain't it, though? I kin scarcely keep the har from blowing
offen my head.
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