The silvery chimes of the antique clock on its pedestal told three before they took their departure. Not half the time appeared to have elapsed: could it be the charm of St. John's conversation that caused it to fly so rapidly, or the merits of the pictures? He escorted them across the fields to the gate of their own shrubbery: and Madame de Castella invited him to visit them in the evening. At dinner, the conversation fell upon Mr. St. John. Madame de Castella expressed herself delighted that so agreeable a man should be located near them, and laughed at her sister, Mademoiselle Agnes, for not having found him out before. He was a thorough gentleman, a high-bred man of the world, she said, and his society would help them to pass away the time pleasantly during M. de Castella's absence in Paris. Before they had done talking of him, St. John entered. He was in slight mourning, his evening attire very plain and quiet, but he bore about him always a nameless elegance. Mary Carr looked at him with admiration--as did probably the rest; but for them she could not answer. There was a peculiar charm in his manner she had never seen in any other man's. Describe in what it lay, she could not, but it attracted to him all with whom he came in contact. His conversation was eloquent and animated, but his bearing calm and still. Before he left, he promised M. de Castella to dine with them the next evening. In the morning, M. de Castella, Adeline, and Mary Carr, walked over to the lodge, where they stayed some hours. M. de Castella, unlike his wife, could never tire of looking at the paintings. The time seemed to fly. It is scarcely to be described how very much they had become at home with Mr. St. John--they were as familiar and dear friends. Something was said in jest about his taking Adeline's likeness; but these jests grow into earnest now and then. Mary Carr could hardly tell how it came to be decided, but decided it was when he came up to dinner in the evening. Signor and Madame de Castella were delighted at the idea of possessing a portrait of her, and the old lady was so eager, she wanted it to be begun off-hand. Adeline, too, was nothing loth: it was gratifying to her innocent and pardonable vanity.