"Miss Caterpillar, has you hern de news?"

"What news, Pat?"

"How us has got a new neighbor--a bootiful young gal--as bootiful as
a picter in a gilt-edged Christmas book--wid a snowy skin, and sky-
blue eyes and glistenin' goldy hair, like the princess you was a
readin' me about, all in deep mournin' and a weepin' and a weepin'
all alone down there in that wicked, lonesome, onlawful ole haunted
place, the Hidden House, along of old Colonel Le Noir and old Dorkey
Knight, and the ghost as draws people's curtains of a night, just
for all de worl' like dat same princess in de ogre's castle!"

"What on earth is all this rigmarole about? Are you dreaming or
romancing?"

"I'm a-telling on you de bressed trufe! Dere's a young lady a-livin'
at de Hidden House!"

"Eh? Is that really true, Patty?"

"True as preaching, miss."

"Then, I am very glad of it! I shall certainly ride over and call on
the stranger," said Capitola, gaily.

"Oh, Miss Cap! Oh, miss, don't you do no sich thing! Ole Marse kill
me! I heerd him t'reaten all de men and maids how if dey telled you
anything 'bout de new neighbor, how he'd skin dem alive!"