"Well, I do declare! I do believe he has received a proposal of
marriage himself," cried Cap, shooting much nearer the truth than
she knew.
Old Hurricane did not hear her. Starting up with the document in his
hand, he rushed from the room and went and shut himself up in his
own study.
"I vow, some widow has offered to marry him," said Cap, to herself.
Old Hurricane did not come to dinner, nor to supper. But after
supper, when Capitola's wonder was at its climax, and while she was
sitting by the little wood fire that that chilly evening required,
Old Hurricane came in, looking very unlike himself, in an humble,
confused, deprecating, yet happy manner, like one who had at once a
mortifying confession to make, and a happy secret to tell.
"Cap," he said, trying to suppress a smile, and growing purple in
the face.
--"Oh, yes! You've come to tell me, I suppose, that you're going to
put a step-aunt-in-law over my head, only you don't know how to
announce it," answered Capitola, little knowing how closely she had
come to the truth; when, to her unbounded astonishment, Old
Hurricane answered:
"Yes, my dear, that's just it!"
"What! My eyes! Oh, crickey!" cried Cap, breaking into her newsboy's
slang, from mere consternation.
"Yes, my dear, it is perfectly true!" replied the old man, growing
furiously red, and rubbing his face.
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