Nell came down at tea-time to find the major alone in the parlor. He looked up on her entrance, with a smile that brought swift blushes to her cheek, then rose and came to meet her. "I know all about it, Nell," he said, giving her a brotherly kiss. "You have made me very happy by the wisdom of your choice; I shall be proud of my new brother. Ah, here he is just coming in at the gate! You must let me share the pleasure of his society now, and after tea I will take care that you have the parlor to yourselves." Kenneth's eyes shone at sight of his betrothed. Sleep had refreshed her and restored her bloom, and her simple white dress with no ornaments save a few delicate, sweet-scented blossoms at her throat and in her hair was very becoming. The major kept his word, and early in the evening they found themselves sole occupants of the parlor. Then, seated by her side, with her hand in his, Kenneth told the story of his birth and the accompanying tragedy; then went on to tell of the removal of his supposed parents to Glen Forest, and of the life there. He described his childhood as bright and happy. Angus and he believed themselves, and were believed by others to be twins. They were devotedly attached and almost inseparable. The parents made no difference between them, and indeed, had no reason for so doing, as they were entirely unable to decide which of the two was their own child. The boys knew nothing about the circumstances attending their birth except that at or near that time there had been an attack by the Indians in which their mother's stepfather had been slain, and that the shock had killed his wife; she being just then very ill and weak. They could perceive that their mother was at times oppressed with sad memories of that fearful past, but for the most part she was very cheerful, and they found her ever ready to sympathize with them in joy as well as grief. The father was inclined to be somewhat strict in his discipline, but kind and genial, a parent whom they sincerely loved and respected. Nell listened with intense interest; wondering within herself too, why the doubt as to which of the two couples were his true parents should have been, as she began to perceive that it had, a reason why Dr. Clendenin should feel that marriage was not for him; in either case his birth was not ignoble. He paused, seeming for a moment lost in painful thought, then casting it off with a slight sigh, went on. "Yes, ours was a very happy childhood till we, Angus and I, were about twelve years old. Then sickness and death came into the family, two little sisters being taken away within a few weeks of each other. "The heart of the tender mother seemed well-nigh broken; but alas! the time came when she was unutterably thankful for their early removal to a better land. "There were still two little ones, a brother and sister, left, and within the next two years Marian was born.