Capitola Caps the Climax

Oh! when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd;
She was a vixen when she went to school;
And though she is but little she is fierce.

Shakespeare

It was quite late in the evening when Jem, her messenger, returned.

"Have you an answer?" she impetuously demanded, rising to meet him as
he entered.

"Yes, miss, here it is," replied the boy, handing a neatly folded,
highly perfumed little note.

"Go," said Cap, curtly, as she received it.

And when the boy had bowed and withdrawn, she threw herself into a
chair, and with little respect for the pretty device of the pierced
heart with which the note was sealed, she tore it open and devoured its
contents.

Why did Capitola's cheeks and lips blanch white as death? Why did her
eyes contract and glitter like stilettoes? Why was her breath drawn
hard and laboriously through clenched teeth and livid lips?

That note was couched in the most insulting terms.

Capitola's first impulse was to rend the paper to atoms and grind those
atoms to powder beneath her heel. But a second inspiration changed her
purpose.

"No--no--no! I will not destroy you, precious little note! No legal
document involving the ownership of the largest estate, no cherished
love letter filled with vows of undying affection, shall be more
carefully guarded! Next to my heart shall you lie. My shield and
buckler shall you be! My sure defense and justification! I know what to
do with you, my precious little jewel! You are the warrant for the
punishment of that man, signed by his own hand." And so saying Capitola
carefully deposited the note in her bosom.