p in the haunted room to live with the ghost, Cap,
and that would be worse!

"Hush! here comes Dorcas Knight! Now I must make believe I'm Clara, and
do the sentimental up brown!" concluded Capitola, as she seated herself
near the door where she could be heard, and began to sob softly.

Dorcas rapped.

Cap sobbed in response.

"Are you coming to luncheon, Miss Day?" inquired the woman.

"Ee--hee! Ee--hee! Ee--hee! I do not want to eat," sobbed Cap, in a low
and smothered voice. Any one would have thought she was drowned in
tears.

"Very well; just as you like," said the woman harshly, as she went
away.

"Well, I declare," laughed Cap, "I did that quite as well as an actress
could! But now what am I to do? How long can I keep this up? Heigh-ho
'let the world slide!' I'll not reveal myself until I'm driven to it,
for when I do----! Cap, child, you'll get chawed right up!"

A little later in the day Dorcas Knight came again and rapped at the
door.

"Ee--hee! Eeh--hee! Ee--hee!" sobbed Cap.

"Miss Day, your cousin, Craven Le Noir, wishes to speak with you
alone."

"Ee--hee! Ee--hee! Ee--hee! I cannot see him!" sobbed Cap, in a low and
suffocating voice.

The woman went away, and Cap suffered no other interruption until six
o'clock, when Dorcas Knight once more rapped saying:

"Miss Day, your uncle is at the front door with the carriage, and he
wishes to know if you are ready to obey him.

"Ee--hee! Ee--hee! Ee--hee!--te--te--tell him yes!" sobbed Cap, as if
her heart would break.

The woman went off with this answer, and Capitola hastily enveloped her
form in Clara's large, black shawl, put on Clara's black bonnet and
tied her thick mourning veil closely over her face.

"A pretty bridal dress, this; but, however, I suppose these men are no
more particular about my costume than they are about their own
conduct," said Cap.

She had just drawn on her gloves when she heard the footsteps of two
men approaching. They rapped at the door.

"Come in," she sobbed, in a low, broken voice, that might have belonged
to any girl in deep distress, and she put a white cambric handkerchief
up to her eyes and drew her thick veil closely over her face.

The two Le Noirs immediately entered the room. Craven approached her
and whispered, softly:

"You will forgive me this, my share in these proceedings after awhile,
sweet Clara! The Sabine women did not love the Roman youths the less
that they were forcibly made wives