an uncle."

"And have still, Herbert; and have still, lad. Come, come, boy; I am not
sentimental, nor romantic, nor melodramatic, nor nothing of that sort. I
don't know how to strike an attitude and exclaim, 'Come to my bosom,
sole remaining offspring of a dear departed sister' or any of the like
stage playing. But I tell you, lad, that I like your looks; and I like
what I have heard of you from this girl, and another old woman, now
dead; and so--But sit down, sit down! demmy, sir, sit down, and we'll
talk over the walnuts and the wine. Capitola, take your seat, too,"
ordered the old man, throwing himself into his chair. Herbert also drew
his chair up.

Capitola resumed her seat, saying to herself:

"Well, well, I am determined not to be surprised at anything that
happens, being perfectly clear in my own mind that this is all nothing
but a dream. But how pleasant it is to dream that I have found a rich
uncle and he has found a nephew, and that nephew is Herbert Greyson! I
do believe that I had rather die in my sleep than wake from this dream!"

"Herbert," said old Hurricane, as soon as they were gathered around the
table--"Herbert, this is my ward, Miss Black, the daughter of a deceased
friend. Capitola, this is the only son of my departed sister."

"Hem-m-m! We have had the pleasure of being acquainted with each other
before," said Cap, pinching up her lip and looking demure.

"But not of really knowing who 'each other' was, you monkey. Herbert,
fill your glass. Here's to our better acquaintance."

"I thank you, sir. I never touch wine," said the young man.

"Never touch wine! Here's another; here's a young prig! I don't believe
you--yes, I do, too! Demmy, sir, if you never touch wine it's because
you prefer brandy! Waiter!"

"I thank you, sir. Order no brandy for me. If I never use intoxicating
liquors it is because I gave a promise to that effect to my dying
mother."

"Say no more--say no more, lad. Drink water, if you like. It won't hurt
you!" exclaimed the old man, filling and quaffing a glass of champagne.
Then he said:

"I quarreled with your mother, Herbert, for marrying a man that I
hated--yes, hated, Herbert, for he differed with me about the tariff
and--the Trinity! Oh, how I hated him, boy, until he died! And then I
wondered in my soul, as I wonder even now, how I ever could have been so
infuriated against a poor fellow now cold in his grave, as I shall be in
time. I wrote to my sister and expre