The advantage Colonel Mires possessed, in being the sole guest of Mr. Wilton, he continued for some little time to enjoy, and he observed with no small gratification, that Flora sat and listened with quiet attention and evident interest to his strange and wild stories of Indian life. Romantic adventures in campaigns, in which he had been engaged, he narrated with graphic power, artfully making himself the hero of the events, without seeming intentionally to do it. Occasionally, and with consummate skill, he would interweave with his relations love stories, mostly to show how a man, like himself, had, daring the stormy period of his life, raised up an ideal beauty to love and worship. How, on the long, weary march, in the quiet night in his tent, pitched upon the cold damp earth, or in the fierce din of warlike strife, he had looked upon that face as a lodestar cheering him on his march, shining upon him in the silent night, and leading him on to glory in the roar of battle. How, in after times, the reality had presented itself to his longing eyes, and how he had wooed the gentle creature and brought her to love him for-- “The dangers he had passed.” How she, believing his ardent vow, that his whole future life should be devoted to the consummation of her future happiness, had given to him her hand with her heart in it. Flora listened to such stories with downcast eyes and thoughtful air. It was evident they made an impression upon her. It seemed, even, that she loved to listen to them; it was plain that she did not grow weary of them, for she never displayed inattention or a desire to be away while he was deep in such a narration. But whether she interpreted them as he wished her to do, he was unable to detect. Yet she was given much to wander alone. She contrived to elude the endeavours made by the Colonel to accompany her. Soon after dawn she would be away in the woods, or in the glen, upon the hill-side, or by the fair brook, that meandered, like a silver thread, through the valley. Or she would slip away when she perceived that her father had engaged his guest in conversation of a character not likely to terminate for some little time. Many a sequestered spot, shaded by the soft green leaves of graceful trees, she found in her rambles, and, secure from interruption, enjoyed its solitary retirement, and its quiet beauties, but always alone. She shared the pleasure she obtained in visiting these leafy recesses with no one. It may have been that here she was free to think, without the possibility of the emotions playing over her expressive features being seen, and interpreted--without, too, the full play of her thoughts being impeded.