midnight
He has become quite the critic and analyst . There is something very pleasant in the discriminations of a conscientious mind , in which criticism is tempered by an angelic charity . Only , it may easily end by acting on one 's nerves . At midnight we repaired to the library , to take leave of our host till the morrow -- an attention which , under all circumstances , he rigidly exacts . As I gave him my hand he held it again and looked at me as he had done on my arrival . `` Bless my soul , '' he said , at last , `` how much you look like your mother ! '' To-night , at the end of my third day , I begin to feel decidedly at home .