should like to welcome them before I leave home to fetch my
wife," said Old Hurricane, in a voice of agitation.

And while they were still eagerly listening, the door was thrown open
by Wool, who announced:

"Marse Herbert, which I mean to say, Major Herbert Greyson;" and
Herbert entered and was grasped by the two hands of Old Hurricane, who
exclaimed:

"Ah, Herbert, my lad! I have got your letters. It is all right,
Herbert, or going to be so. You shall marry Cap when you like. And I am
going to-morrow morning to throw myself at the feet of my wife."

"No need of your going so far, dear sir, no need. Let me speak to my
own dear girl a moment, and then I shall have something to say to you,"
said Herbert, leaving the old man in suspense, and going to salute
Capitola, who returned his fervent embrace by an honest, downright
frank kiss, that made no secret of itself.

"Capitola! My uncle has told you all?"

"Every single bit! So don't lose time by telling it all over again! Is
my mother with you?"

"Yes! and I will bring her in, in one moment; but first I must bring in
some one else," said Herbert, kissing the hand of Capitola and turning
to Old Hurricane, to whom he said:

"You need not travel far to find Marah. We took Staunton in our way
and brought her and Clara along--Traverse!" he said going to the
door--"bring in your mother."

And the next instant Traverse entered with the wife of Major Warfield
upon his arm.

Old Hurricane started forward to meet her, exclaiming in a broken
voice:

"Marah, my dear Marah, God may forgive me, but can you--can you ever do
so?" And he would have sunk at her feet, but that she prevented, by
meeting him and silently placing both her hands in his. And so quietly
Marah's forgiveness was expressed, and the reconciliation sealed.

Meanwhile Herbert went out and brought in Mrs. Le Noir and Clara. Mrs.
Le Noir, with a Frenchwoman's impetuosity, hurried to her daughter and
clasped her to her heart.

Cap gave one hurried glance at the beautiful pale woman that claimed
from her a daughter's love and then, returning the caress, she said:

"Oh, mamma! Oh, mamma! If I were only a boy instead of a girl, I would
thrash that Le Noir within an inch of his life! But I forgot! He has
gone to his account."

Old Hurricane was at this moment shaking hands with his son, Traverse,
who presently took occasion to lead up and introduce his betrothed
wife, Clara Day, to her destined father-in-