"Oh, I know! you mean God was with you?"
"Yes; but I had a human companion, too, an Indian boy, who told me his name was Little Horn."
Nell asked no question, but she was not the least interested of those who listened to the story of the finding of the lad and the way in which the two passed their time while storm-stayed together in the wood.
She was furtively studying Kenneth's face while he talked, sorrowfully taking note of its worn, thin look, and the deepening of the lines of grief and care that made it seem older than his years warranted. Its expression at this moment was cheerful, as were the tones of his voice, but she had no need to be told that for him "Disappointment still tracked the steps of hope."
[CHAPTER X.]
Time passed on; a year, two years rolled away. Settlers had continued to move into the town and adjacent country, and Kenneth's practice had grown with the growth of the population.
This was, perhaps, one reason why there had been a great falling off in the frequency of his visits, other than professional, at Major Lamar's.
It was, at all events, the excuse he gave, for that and for absenting himself from nearly all the pleasure parties and merry-makings of the young people. Genial and pleasant in his intercourse with old and young, he yet was no ladies' man; seldom paid attention to any of the fair sex, except in the way of his calling; he had no time, he said, but always found abundance of it to bestow upon the sick and suffering. His whole heart and soul were in his work.
Some silly people began to call him an old bachelor, though he was still under thirty, and far from old looking.