"Ungrateful girl; actually meditating disobedience on the horse I gave her!"
"Easy now, uncle—fair and easy. I did not sell my free will for Gyp! I wouldn't for a thousand Gyps! He was a free gift," said Capitola, beginning an impatient little dance about the floor.
"Come here to me; come—here—to—me!" exclaimed the old man peremptorily, rapping his cane down upon the floor with every syllable.
Capitola danced up to him and stood half smiling and fingering and arranging the lace of her under sleeves.
"Listen to me, you witch! Do you intend to obey me or not?"
"Not," said Cap, good-humoredly adjusting her cameo bracelet and holding up her arm to see its effect.
"You will not! Then, demmy, miss, I shall know how to make you!" thundered Old Hurricane, bringing the point of his stick down with a sharp rap.
"Eh!" cried Capitola, looking up in astonishment.
"Yes, miss; that's what I said—make you!"
"I should like to know how," said Cap, returning to her cool good humor.