"Do you really care for that?" she hastily withdrew her hand, saying almost pettishly:
"Of course I care to have you here in case any of the family should be taken sick. You understand our constitution, and are the only doctor in the town that we have the least confidence in."
His countenance fell, and she thought she heard a faint sigh as he turned sadly away, and with a silent bow left the house.
She dropped into a chair, hid her face in her hands, and burst into a passion of tears.
"Oh, how could I! how could I! when he has been so good and kind to me!" she sobbed. "It's just as if I had struck him a cruel blow, and oh! I could beat myself for it!"
Her words, and yet more her tone and manner in speaking them, had indeed wounded Kenneth. He had brought a care-burdened and sorrowful heart into her presence, and he carried it away with an added pang.
He was himself surprised to find that she had power to wound him so deeply. He had not known before how dear the wilful little maiden had become to him; but this pain opened his eyes.
"Ah, what have I been doing?" he cried, half aloud, as he strode onward toward his office, "and why am I regretting that for which I should be unutterably thankful—that I alone suffer, because of my imprudence? I must, I will be grateful that she has not given her young heart to such a one as I. And yet—and yet—but ah me, this is hoping even against hope! Yet will I not utterly despair, for with God all things are possible."