Doubtless the old man would have flown into another passion, had that been possible; but, in truth, he had spent so much vitality in rage number one that he had none left to sustain rage number two. Besides, he knew it would be necessary to blow up Bill Ezy, his lazy overseer, before night, and perhaps saved himself for that performance. He finished his meal in silence and went out.
Cap finished hers, and, 'tempering justice with mercy,' went up-stairs to his room and looked over all his appointments and belongings to find what she would do for his extra comfort, and found a job in newly lining his warm slippers and the sleeves of his dressing-gown.
They met again at the dinner-table.
"How do you do, Cap?" said Old Hurricane, as he took his seat.
Capitola poured out a glass of water and drank it in silence.
"Oh, very well, 'a dumb devil,' etc.," exclaimed Old Hurricane, addressing himself to his dinner. When the meal was over they again separated. The old man went to his study to examine his farm books, and Capitola back to her chamber to finish lining his warm slippers.
Again at tea they met.
"Well, Cap is 'the dumb devil' cast out yet?" he said, sitting down.
Capitola took a cup of tea from Mrs. Condiment and passed it on to him in silence.
"Humph! not gone yet, eh? Poor girl, how it must try you," said Old Hurricane.