company, and was deep in the history of a man who had been cast away,
some hundred years ago, upon a desert island.

[Footnote 2: Falconer, on the Poison of Lead and Copper.]

He condescended, however, to put down his book when the fossils were
produced: and, as if he had just awakened from a dream, rubbed his eyes,
stretched himself, and joined the rest of the company. The malicious
Archibald, who observed that Forester had seated himself, through absence
of mind, in a place which prevented some of the ladies from seeing the
fossils, instantly made a parade of his own politeness, to contrast
himself advantageously with the rude negligence of his companion; but
Archibald's politeness was always particularly directed to the persons in
company whom he thought of the most importance. "You can't see there,"
said Forester, suddenly rousing himself, and observing that Dr.
Campbell's daughter, Miss Flora Campbell, was standing behind him; "had
you not better sit down in this chair? I don't want it, because I can see
over your head; sit down." Archibald smiled at Forester's simplicity, in
paying his awkward compliment to the young lady, who had, according to
his mode of estimating, the least pretensions to notice of any one
present. Flora Campbell was neither rich nor beautiful, but she had a
happy mixture in her manners of Scottish sprightliness and English
reserve. She had an eager desire to improve herself, whilst a nice sense
of propriety taught her never to intrude upon general notice, or to
recede from conversation with airs of counterfeit humility. Forester
admired her abilities, because he imagined that he was the only person
who had ever discovered them; as to her manners, he never observed these,
but even whilst he ridiculed politeness he was anxious to find out what
she thought polite. After he had told her all that he knew concerning the
fossils, as they were produced from the cabinet--and he was far from