Kenneth had announced his intention to join this party, but that evening's mail brought a letter from Glen Forest which so filled him with anxiety and alarm, made his presence at home so urgently necessary, that he at once decided to risk going with no companion but Zeb, and to set off at dawn of the coming day, leaving to Dale the whole care and responsibility of getting Reumah Clark's evidence into proper shape. Dale used every argument and persuasion to induce his friend to wait for company; two days he thought would make so little difference, and the risk to a solitary traveller was so great; but all to no purpose; Clendenin would hardly stay to hear him out, there was so much to be attended to in the few hours that remained before he should leave for an absence that might extend to months. Several patients must be visited and recommended to the charge of a brother physician, some purchases made, and some friends called upon for a word of farewell. It would seem a strange, unkind, ungrateful thing to go without saying good-bye to Major Lamar and his family, who had always made him so entirely one of themselves. And Nell? Ah, he could not, would not go away without learning from her own lips if Lyttleton's story were true. And if it were not? But ah, he dare not think any further. His heart beat almost audibly as he opened the gate and hurried up the path to the house. The bright moonlight showed him the major sitting alone in the porch. "Ah, good evening, doctor," he said, rising to shake hands and set a chair for his guest. "I am especially glad to see you to-night, as I am just in the mood for a friendly chat." "Thank you, major, but I am in unusual haste," Kenneth answered. "Can I see the ladies?" "Sorry to say I cannot give you that pleasure to-night, doctor," was the laughing reply. "Mrs. Lamar has gone to bed tired out with the exertion and excitement of the day, and Nell is not at home; won't be for a week or two, at least; has gone home with a friend living fifteen miles from town." Kenneth almost staggered under the blow. Then a wild impulse seized him to follow her and know his fate from her own mouth, though it would delay his journey for one day, if not for two. But recalling some words of the letter just received, words that made him feel that every moment's delay on his part was hazardous to sweet Marian, he put it from him with heroic self-denial, briefly explained his errand, parried some remonstrances such as Dale had already wasted upon him, and with a cordial parting shake of the hand and a farewell message for the family, turned and went away. Lyttleton's heart that afternoon was like a cage of unclean birds full of malice, envy, anger and hate. Kenneth having left him in answer to the summons to the farm-house, he pursued his way to the town muttering imprecations upon the head of his late companion and mentally resolving schemes for his injury.