The Thorn in the Nest

There was some ten years difference in their ages, a good deal seemingly at Nell's time of life. She looked up to Kenneth as to one much older and wiser than herself, and won by his ever ready sympathy and interest, talked to him with the charming frankness of her confiding nature and extreme youth. She told the history of her past years, particularly the last five, which had been spent in a boarding school in Philadelphia, and about the brother she was going to: – how he fought bravely for his country in the Continental army, had been taken prisoner by the British, what he had suffered on one of those dreadful prison-ships, till peace at last set him free, that he had married since and now had a family of children.

He was very much older than herself, she explained, being the eldest born while she was the youngest, and as both parents had died while she was a mere infant, he was like a father to her. Kenneth seldom spoke of himself, but she sometimes led him on by her questions to talk of his home at Glen Forest, his mother and Marian, for both of whom he evidently cherished a deep and tender affection.

Nell remarked that she had seen them at church once or twice, had thought Mrs. Clendenin very sweet and noble looking, and Marian the loveliest of little girls.

"You read them both aright," was Kenneth's answer, with a look and smile that made him, Nell thought, the handsomest man she had ever seen.

"If he were not quite so old," she said to herself, "perhaps, I don't know, but perhaps I might fall in love with him. It would be very foolish though, for of course he could never care for such a silly young thing as I am."

She had observed that he seemed a skilful physician and surgeon, and had discovered that he could tell her a vast deal about trees and plants and the birds and wild animals of the woods through which they passed.

They had never met in Philadelphia though living there at the same time, but it was pleasant to talk with him about the city and its various attractions.

So they had not been at a loss for subjects of conversation, nor were they to-day.

Silence fell between them for a few moments after Kenneth's last remark, then Nell said, with a saucy smile, "So you, I suppose, are never sad, Dr. Clendenin."

"Alas, Miss Lamar," he answered with a far away look in his eyes, an expression of keen anguish sweeping across his features, yet passing away so quickly that she could hardly feel sure it had been there, "my theory and practice do not always agree."

"Well," said she, "I don't believe there is anybody in the world who is not sad at times. Yet we have a great deal to make us glad, and just now I feel as blithe as a bird. We are coming to a river."

"Yes, the Scioto."

"Oh, then we must be near Chillicothe, are we not?"

"Yes, here is the ferry, and yonder, on the farther side, lies the town."

"That! I see only a few log cabins scattered here and there in a dense forest."

"True, miss, that is just what it is," said the ferryman, pushing off, for they were already on board his flat boat; "but you'll find more houses than you'd think, and the streets marked out quite straight and wide."

"And can you tell me in which Major Lamar lives?" Nell asked eagerly.

"Certainly, miss, there are not so many of us that we don't all know each other's faces, and houses too. The major lives on Walnut Street, but a step from where I shall land you. And yonder he comes," he added as the boat touched the bank and Romeo and Fairy bounded ashore.

Another moment and the girl was in her brother's arms, weeping for very joy, as if her heart would break, he soothing her with caresses and tender, loving words.

"There, there, Nell, darling, my sweet little sister, we're together at last, and don't mean to be parted ever again. Come, come, don't spoil your pretty eyes with crying."

She brushed away her tears at that, raised her head, saying, "O Percy, I'm so glad, so happy! How are Clare and the children?"

Then without waiting for an answer, "Oh how forgetful I am!" she cried turning to Kenneth, who with half averted face and dewy eyes, was thinking of Marian, and could almost feel the clinging of her arms about his neck. "Percy, this is Dr. Clendenin, who has cared for me like a brother, through all this long, tiresome journey."

The two grasped each other's hands warmly, and the major insisted on carrying Kenneth off with him to share the hospitality of his house.

It was a pleasant home circle into which he was presently introduced, – Mrs. Lamar, a fair, graceful, bright-faced lady, still young, and three or four rosy, bright-eyed boys and girls.

He received a warm welcome, while Nellie was embraced, kissed and rejoiced over to her heart's content, a heart that went out in strong affection to her kindred and craved a full return.

The evening meal was already prepared, the table set in the living room. Its snowy linen, delicate china and shining silver would not have disgraced a much more lordly dwelling; and the viands which presently came in smoking from the kitchen, fresh fish, game and hot corn-bread, might have tempted the appetite of an epicure; much more that of our travellers, who had fared but indifferently well for some days past.

The major's house was but a log cabin, the only kind of building in the settlement at that time, simply furnished, and consisted of only three rooms beside kitchen and garret; yet a great deal of comfort and enjoyment were to be found there, and Kenneth was not ill-pleased to be tendered the freedom of the house, and accepted the offer with hearty thanks.

"We elect you our family physician, sir, if you will not decline the office," said the major, as they rose from the table; "and as such you will of course consider yourself perfectly at home among us."

Kenneth was beginning to express his sense of his host's kindness when he was interrupted by a hasty summons to the bedside of a sick woman at the other end of the village.

"Come, Nell, and take a look at Chillicothe," the major said, leading the way to the grass plot in front of the house, where they seated themselves upon a log.

There were many such lying about the streets, many trees and stumps of those which had been felled, still standing; in fact nearly the whole town was still a wilderness; yet though not a year old, it already contained, beside private dwellings, two taverns and several stores and shops of mechanics, but among them all there were but four shingled houses, and on one the shingles were fastened with pegs. The streets were very wide and straight, crossing at right angles; not all cleared yet, but marked out by blazing the trees of the thick wood in whose midst the town was located.

There were many Indians in the vicinity. They had a town not far away, on the north fork of Paint Creek, and here in Chillicothe their wigwams were interspersed among the dwellings of the whites as Nellie noticed with some uneasiness.

But her brother reassured her. "There is no danger," he said, "they are perfectly friendly."

"Ah, but they are a treacherous race," she sighed with a dubious shake of the head.

"Quite a change from Philadelphia, Nell," Clare remarked, joining them with her knitting in her hand.

"Yes, but it is many weeks since I left there."

"Is it nice in Philadelphia, Aunt Nellie?" asked Bess, the eldest of the children, hanging affectionately about the young girl. "Do tell us what it's like, and about the pretty things in the shop windows."

"Another time, Bess," interposed the major. "Run away to your play now, and let older people talk. Nell, you saw Washington more than once?"

"Ah yes! many times – and he asked for you, Percy, in the kindest way, speaking in the highest terms of your services to the country."

"It is like him," the major exclaimed with emotion.

"And this young doctor, Nell," pursued Clare, with a meaning smile, "what is he like?"

"Just what he has shown himself to-night," the girl answered, blushing slightly, as she had a trick of doing, the rich blood showing readily through the clear, transparent skin.

"A handsome, polished, courteous gentleman, intelligent and well informed above the generality, that is about all one could learn in so short an interview," and Clare laughed low and musically. "But you have had an opportunity to study his character pretty thoroughly."

"A thing I never thought of doing," returned Nell, with some annoyance; "but I can tell you that he is very patient and very kind."

"Any one might well be that to you, Nell," remarked her brother, regarding her with a proud, affectionate smile.

"But it was not only to me, but to everybody, and to the very horses and dogs. He seems to be always thinking of others, never of himself, and to have a kind look or word or smile for the humblest and meanest creature that crosses his path, and," low and hesitatingly, "I believe it's because he is a real, true Christian."

"I know it, one can read it in his face," said the major heartily, "and I am rejoiced; for such men are needed here."

"There they are!" cried Nell, starting up. "See! the wagons are just crossing the ferry!"

The Nashes and Barbours had been old friends and neighbors of the Lamars before the emigration of the latter to Ohio, and the major and his wife now hurried to meet and welcome them; Nell and the children following.

Kenneth, having bestowed all needed attention upon his patient, was hurrying toward the ferry also, as indeed was nearly every man and women in the village, all alike rejoicing in every new accession to their numbers, and eager for news from the older settlements.