There are few more winning traits of human nature than the unaffected, heartfelt admiration of one young man for the qualities and endowments of another, and never are they more likely to meet appreciation than when exhibited in presence of the mother of the lauded one. And thus the simple expression of Forester's delight at his friend's advancement went further to exalt himself in the good graces of Lady Eleanor than the display of any powers of pleasing, however ingeniously or artfully exercised. As through the openings of a dense wood we come unexpectedly upon a view of a wide tract of country, unfolding features of landscape unthought of and unlooked for, so occasionally doth it happen that, in conversation, a chance allusion, a mere word, will develop sources of interest buried up to that very moment, and display themes of mutual enjoyment which were unknown before. This was now the case. Lionel's name, which evoked the mother's pride and the sister's affection, called also into play the generous warmth of Forester's attachment to him. Thus pleasantly glided on the hours, and none remarked how time was passing, or even heeded the howling storm that raged without, while anecdotes and traits of Lionel were recorded, and comments passed upon his character and temper such as a friend might utter and a mother love to hear. At last Forester rose. More than once during the interview a consciousness crossed his mind that he was outstaying the ordinary limits of a visit; but at each moment some observation of Lady Eleanor or her daughter, or some newly remembered incident in Lionel's career, would occur, and delay his departure. At last he stood up, and, warned by the thickening darkness of how time had sped, was endeavoring to mutter some words of apology, when Lady Eleanor interrupted him with,-- “Pray do not let us suppose you felt the hours too long, Captain Forester; the theme you selected will always make my daughter and myself insensible to the lapse of time. If I did not fear we should be trespassing on both your kindness and health together, I should venture to request you would dine with us.” Forester's sparkling eyes and flushed cheek replied to the invitation before he had words to say how gladly he accepted it. “I feel more reconciled to making this request, sir,” said Lady Eleanor, “because in your present state of weakness you cannot enjoy the society of a pleasanter party, and it is a fortunate thing that you can combine a prudent action with a kind one.” Forester appreciated the flattery of the remark, and, with a broken acknowledgment of its import, moved towards the door. “No, no,” said Lady Eleanor, “pray don't think of dressing; you have all the privilege of an invalid, and a--friend also.” The pause which preceded the word brought a slight blush into her cheek, but when it was uttered, she seemed to have resumed her self-possession.