Mrs. Barbour, according to her wont, passed the time previous to retiring in fretting and complaining; talking of herself as the most ill-used and unfortunate of the human race, though no one else in the company was in any respect faring better than she, and all were not only bearing their discomforts with patience and resignation, but cheerfully and with an emotion of thankfulness that they had a roof over their heads; as a heavy rain storm had come on shortly after their arrival, and continued till near morning.
But that was another of the complainer's grievances; "The roads would be flooded, the streams so swollen that it would be impossible to cross with the wagons."
Nell, hearing these doleful prognostications, turned an anxious enquiring look upon Kenneth.
"Do not be alarmed," he said, leaning toward her, and speaking in an undertone of quiet assurance: "the rain is much needed and therefore a cause for thankfulness; and if streams cannot be forded immediately, we can encamp beside them and wait for the abating of the waters."
"But our provisions may give out," she suggested.
"Then we will look for game in the woods, and fish in the streams. No fear, little lady, that we shall not be fed."
Nell liked the title, and felt it restful to lean upon one who showed so much quiet confidence in—was it his own powers and resources or something higher?
The journey was a tedious and trying one, occupying several weeks; and Kenneth's office as leader of the party was no sinecure.
There were many vexatious delays, some occasioned by the wretched state of the roads, others incident to the moving of the cumbrous and heavily laden wagons; which latter might have been avoided had he travelled alone, or in company with none but equestrians.
But Kenneth was of too noble and unselfish a nature to grudge the cost of kindness to others.