While, however, in some of these visitors possible lovers might have been found, many were men in middle life, old companions in arms of the major. And these were not the least welcome to Nell, for she loved to sit and listen to them and her brother as they fought their battles over again around the fire in the cool spring or autumn evenings; or on the green sward before the door in the warm summer nights. Few of them came in winter, and at that season boating, botanizing and long rambles into the country had of course to be given up, yet that less favored time was not without its quiet pleasures. There was much spinning, weaving, sewing and knitting going on, the ladies often carried their work to a neighbor's house and spent a sociable afternoon together, winding up with an early tea. There were also social gatherings about the fire in the evenings, enlivened by cheerful chat, the cracking of nuts, several varieties of which were found in great abundance in the woods around the village, and scraping turnip, these last being used as a substitute for apples, until time had been given for their cultivation. Thus had the summer passed, the autumn too, and midwinter had come, finding Nell fully recovered from the effects of her fright, her fears dispelled, her nerves as steady as ever they had been. It was the second winter since her arrival in Chillicothe, and she had become really attached to the place and its cheerful social life, so free from formality and restraint. Calling at the major's one evening, Kenneth found her alone in the sitting-room, quietly knitting and thinking beside the fire. The wide chimney was heaped high with hickory logs, and the dancing, flickering flames filled the whole room with a cheerful, ruddy light. Nell's back was toward the door and she did not perceive his entrance, till he spoke close at her side, his pleasant "Good evening, I hope I do not intrude?" rousing her from her reverie. "Oh no, doctor, you are always welcome in this house," she said, rising to give him her hand, and inviting him to be seated. "I knocked," he said apologetically, "but no one seemed to hear, so I ventured to admit myself." "Quite right," she answered, "though I do not understand how I happened to miss hearing your rap." "Preoccupation," he remarked with a half absent smile, gazing thoughtfully into the fire as he spoke. "You are all quite well?" "Quite, thank you. My brother and sister are out spending the evening; and the children are in bed." He did not speak again for several minutes, but sat watching the flames as they leaped hither and thither, but evidently with thoughts far away; and Nell, furtively studying his countenance, read there the silent suffering Dale had spoken of. Her woman's heart longed to speak a word of sympathy and comfort; but how should she when she knew not what his sorrow was?