"Your papa desires his love to you, and---- You are quite a family friend now, Mr. St. John," broke off Madame de Castella, "so I do not hesitate to speak before you. I dare say the subject is as well known to you as it is to ourselves: you are like a son of the house, a brother to Adeline." Mr. St. John bowed. "This is what your papa says, Adeline," continued Madame, translating as she read: "'Make my love to my dear Adeline; tell her not to be vexed at my additional week's delay, for I shall bring De la Chasse with me when I come.' You are no doubt aware, I say, Mr. St. John, of the position the baron holds in our family in regard to Adeline." Another bow from Mr. St. John. "And now I must ask you to excuse me for a few minutes, while I take this silk to my mother," pursued Madame. "When not well she is a little exacting. I will be down almost immediately. Adeline, do your best to entertain Mr. St. John." He closed the door after Madame de Castella, and returned to Adeline. She was leaning against the window-frame, endeavouring to look all unconscious and at ease, but evidently hardly able to support herself. Her face had turned pale; a sort of startled despair had settled on it. The evil moment, which throughout all this golden time she had never dared to look in the face, was at hand now. Mr. St. John wound his arm round her, and became himself her support. He called her by the most endearing names, he pressed the sweetest kisses on her lips: he besought her not to give way to despondency: he assured her there was no cause for it, for that never, never should she be any other's wife than his. He had been silent hitherto, so far as open avowal went; but that was over now. He spoke cheeringly of his plans and prospects; of winning the consent of Signor de Castella to their union. He pictured their future home in the land of his birth---the land which she had always loved. And Adeline, as she listened to his soothing words, never a shade of doubt clouding them, grew reassured and calm. She almost felt, as she stood there by his side and looked into his honest earnest eyes, that no power on earth could avail to separate them, if he willed that it should not. When Madame de Castella returned to the room, delightfully unconscious, words which no time could obliterate, at least in one heart, had been spoken. They had betrothed themselves, each to the other, until death should divide them. A less formal betrothal, it is true; but oh, how much more genuine than that other in which Adeline de Castella had borne a part. CHAPTER XXI. A FADING CHILD. There arrived one morning a missive at the house of Madame de Nino, addressed to that renowned preceptress herself. It was from Madame de Castella, and contained a pressing invitation for two of her pupils--you will be at no loss to divine which--to spend some weeks at Beaufoy.