"Then let me have Pitapat by all means. I like company, especially company that I can send away when I choose."
"Very well, my dear; and now I think you'd better smooth your hair and come down with me to tea, for it is full time, and the major, as you may know, is not the most patient of men."
Capitola took a brush from her traveling-bag, hastily arranged her black ringlets and announced herself ready.
They left the room and traversed the same labyrinth of passages, stairs, empty rooms and halls back to the dining-room, where a comfortable fire burned and a substantial supper was spread.
Old Hurricane took Capitola's hand with a hearty grasp, and placed her in a chair at the side, and then took his own seat at the foot of the table.
Mrs. Condiment sat at the head and poured out the tea.
"Uncle," said Capitola, suddenly, "what is under the trap-door in my room?"
"What! Have they put you in that room?" exclaimed the old man, hastily looking up.
"There was no other one prepared, sir," said the housekeeper.
"Besides, I like it very well, uncle," said Capitola.