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 he 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!"