Lyttleton perceived with savage exultation how he had wrung the heart of the man whom he hated;--hated all the more bitterly because he owed him his life and because of his own ill-desert as a trifler with sweet Marian's affections: whose sworn foe he was even before leaving England for America; his very errand to this country being one of wrong to him, an errand which he now foresaw was likely to miscarry through the information gleaned from the white squaw of the Shawnee brave. They were passing a farm-house; some one standing at its gate hailed the doctor, and with a slight parting inclination of the head to Lyttleton, Kenneth turned aside and obeyed the call. The sun was touching the top of the hill which bounds Chillicothe on the west, as he resumed his homeward way, a different man from the one who had left Old Town so full of joy and glad anticipation; the very dropping of his figure, as he moved slowly along with the bridle lying loosely upon Romeo's neck, spoke of utter dejection. What was life worth without his love, his darling? Oh, why had not this knowledge come to him a little sooner, this that unsealed his lips. Why had he not yielded to his impulse that stormy night as they stood alone together by the fire, and poured out the story of his love? How much wiser and kinder to have done it, even though he had to tell her, too, that an impassable barrier stood between them! He could see it so plainly now, but then, his eyes were blinded. And she, how could he blame her if her love had at last turned to aversion and she had given herself to another? But alas, alas, how ill she had chosen, a man devoid of principle and utterly selfish; for so far had Kenneth succeeded in reading Lyttleton's true character. But these were vain regrets; he must school himself to bear bravely his grief and disappointment; trouble did not spring out of the ground, and the loving Father above never sent to His children one unneeded pang. And was life indeed all dark to him? Was it nothing that a terrible dread had been taken away? That he had reason, intellect, education, health and strength, that God had given him skill to relieve pain and suffering? Ah, his mercies were far beyond his deserts, and life could not be a desolate waste while power was granted him to minister to the comfort and happiness of others; and while there remained to him, not only the love of the two dear ones at Glen Forest, but also the sweeter, dearer love of Him who saith to His children: "Lo, I am with you always even unto the end of the world." "I have loved thee with an everlasting love." "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." The precious comforting words came to him almost as if spoken by an audible voice, and were as balm and healing to his wounded spirit. There were business matters claiming his immediate attention, and he now resolutely turned his thoughts upon them.