The Thorn in the Nest

She wondered at her own submissiveness as she realized to-night that it was a positive pleasure to be ruled.

The hours flew by on viewless wings; it was no hard task to keep that vigil, yet the physician was not forgotten in the lover.

Toward morning the patient awoke and recognized her watchers with a pleased smile. The crisis was safely passed. Nell knew it instantly by the glad look in the doctor's face.

He held a cup to Flora's lips, saying in a low quiet tone, "Swallow this, my child, and go to sleep again."

She obeyed. He drew a long sigh of relief. He had been bending over her in intense anxiety for the last half hour.

"Saved! The Lord be praised!" he whispered, turning to Nell with shining eyes. Then, taking her hand, "My darling, my own, is it not so?"

She astonished herself and him by bursting into a passion of tears.

It was simply overwrought nerves. She had been exceedingly anxious about Flora and had watched beside her day and night for nearly a week. After months of mental disquietude because of apparently unrequited love, the revulsion of feeling was too sudden and too great for the worn out physical frame, and this was the result.

He understood it in a moment.

"Let the tears have their way," he said tenderly; "it will do you good. I will leave you for a little, while I carry this good news to the anxious parents."

By the time he came back Nell had recovered her composure, but was too shamefaced to look at him.

"Well, fair lady, will you vouchsafe an answer to my question now?" he asked, kneeling before her and taking both hands in his, while he looked into her eyes with his own brimful of tenderness, love and joy.

"I'm not worth having," she answered with unwonted humility, speaking in the whispered tone that he had used.

"That is for me to judge," he returned, with laughing eyes. "But do be kind enough to answer my question. Or let me put it in another form. Will you have me, have me for protector and provider, lover, husband and friend?"

"Yes, if you will take me in exchange, and not think it a bad bargain," she said with a sudden impulse, and hid her blushing face on his breast as he folded her close with a glad solemn "God bless you, my darling! I shall be the gainer a thousand fold!"

CHAPTER XXXIII

The storm was over and the rain drops on tree, shrub and flower, glittered like untold wealth of diamonds in the bright rays of the newly risen sun, as Clendenin and Nell walked down the street together.

There was nothing in the looks or manner of either to excite curiosity or suspicion in those who saw them pass.

He left her at her brother's door with a half playful order, not from the lover but the physician, to take some breakfast and go directly to bed and to sleep.

"I shall not promise," she answered saucily, lifting a a pair of bright, roguishly smiling eyes to his face, "I have not resigned my liberty yet, you know."

"Ah well, I think I may count on obedience," he said with the grave, tender smile that had first won her heart.

"I want you to rest all day and let me come to you this evening," he whispered, bending down to speak close to her ear, "I have much to tell you, my darling. You have a right to know what so long prevented my lips from repeating the story you must have read a thousand times in my eyes, if they spoke the true language of my heart."

"Never mind, I am quite content without the knowledge if, as your face seems to say, it is something painful," she said with generous confidence, and sudden gravity of looks and tone.

"Nay, dearest, you shall hear it. I will have no secrets from her who is to be 'bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh,' the nearest and dearest of all created beings," he said, lifting her hands to his lips.

Her eyes filled with happy, grateful tears, as from the vine covered porch where they had had their chat, she watched him hurrying away down the street, then turned and went into the house.

"Was that Dr. Clendenin?" asked Clare, meeting her in the hall.

"Yes."

"Why didn't he come in and take breakfast with us?"

"I didn't ask him."

"You didn't? Nell Lamar, I'm ashamed of your rude behavior to that man! If he treats you henceforward with the coldest politeness, I am sure it will be no more than you deserve."

A curious smile trembled about the corners of Nell's lips for an instant, then was gone.

"Flora has passed the crisis," she remarked, "and the doctor says will get well if she has proper care."

"Oh, I am glad!"

"Can you take my place for to-day? He wouldn't let me stay, and her mother would kill her with the fretting and worrying."

"No wonder he wouldn't let you stay. You look wretchedly tired. Yes; I'll go over presently. You'd better eat your breakfast at once and go directly to bed."

"I will," Nell answered with unaccustomed meekness, and proceeded to redeem her promise without delay.

Kenneth, too, needed rest after his wearisome journey and long night vigil, but did not seek it till a letter telling of his great happiness had been written to the dear ones at Glen Forest, and sent to the mail by Zeb.

Nell came down at tea-time to find the major alone in the parlor. He looked up on her entrance, with a smile that brought swift blushes to her cheek, then rose and came to meet her.

"I know all about it, Nell," he said, giving her a brotherly kiss. "You have made me very happy by the wisdom of your choice; I shall be proud of my new brother. Ah, here he is just coming in at the gate! You must let me share the pleasure of his society now, and after tea I will take care that you have the parlor to yourselves."

Kenneth's eyes shone at sight of his betrothed. Sleep had refreshed her and restored her bloom, and her simple white dress with no ornaments save a few delicate, sweet-scented blossoms at her throat and in her hair was very becoming.

The major kept his word, and early in the evening they found themselves sole occupants of the parlor.

Then, seated by her side, with her hand in his, Kenneth told the story of his birth and the accompanying tragedy; then went on to tell of the removal of his supposed parents to Glen Forest, and of the life there.

He described his childhood as bright and happy. Angus and he believed themselves, and were believed by others to be twins. They were devotedly attached and almost inseparable. The parents made no difference between them, and indeed, had no reason for so doing, as they were entirely unable to decide which of the two was their own child.

The boys knew nothing about the circumstances attending their birth except that at or near that time there had been an attack by the Indians in which their mother's stepfather had been slain, and that the shock had killed his wife; she being just then very ill and weak.

They could perceive that their mother was at times oppressed with sad memories of that fearful past, but for the most part she was very cheerful, and they found her ever ready to sympathize with them in joy as well as grief.

The father was inclined to be somewhat strict in his discipline, but kind and genial, a parent whom they sincerely loved and respected.

Nell listened with intense interest; wondering within herself too, why the doubt as to which of the two couples were his true parents should have been, as she began to perceive that it had, a reason why Dr. Clendenin should feel that marriage was not for him; in either case his birth was not ignoble.

He paused, seeming for a moment lost in painful thought, then casting it off with a slight sigh, went on.

"Yes, ours was a very happy childhood till we, Angus and I, were about twelve years old. Then sickness and death came into the family, two little sisters being taken away within a few weeks of each other.

"The heart of the tender mother seemed well-nigh broken; but alas! the time came when she was unutterably thankful for their early removal to a better land.