True to his promise, Lewis dined with them the next day; by mutual consent all reference to the past was avoided, and no allusion made to any of the Broadhurst party. As soon as Lewis found this to be the case, a certain proud embarrassment observable in his manner disappeared; and yielding to the delight of again finding himself in congenial society, he unconsciously displayed his brilliant conversational powers—relating, with playful wit, or forcible and striking illustration, the adventures which had befallen him, and the scenery he had beheld in his late pedestrian tour, till Charles and Laura, who had only been acquainted with him when the cloud of his dependent position at Broadhurst hung over him and concealed his natural character beneath a veil of proud reserve, were equally delighted and astonished; and when, late in the evening, he took his departure, they vied with each other in performing a duet to his praise.
“He talks so well!” exclaimed Charley.
“He knows so much!” cried Laura.
“He has been everywhere,” continued the former.
“And done everything,” resumed the latter.
“He is so clever and epigrammatic,” urged the gentleman.
“And his descriptions of scenery are so poetical,” put in the lady.
“His figure is so striking,” said the master.
“And his face so handsome,” rejoined the mistress.
“What a pair of eyes he has!”