noon
Evelyn enchanted them ; and they had passed that age when they could have imagined it possible that the man they had known almost as a boy was separated by years from the lively feelings and extreme youth of Evelyn . They could not believe that the sentiments he had inspired were colder than those that animated himself . One day , Maltravers had been absent for some hours on his solitary rambles , and De Montaigne had not yet returned from Paris , which he visited almost daily . It was so late in the noon as almost to border on evening , when Maltravers ; on his return , entered the grounds by a gate that separated them from an extensive wood . He saw Evelyn , Teresa , and two of her children walking on a terrace immediately before him . He joined them ; and , somehow or other , it soon chanced that Teresa and himself loitered behind the rest , a little out of hearing . `` Ah , Mr. Maltravers , '' said the former , `` we miss the soft skies of Italy and the beautiful hues of Como . ''