midday
I intended to settle down to the enjoyment afforded by my sense of humour . I had preserved it intact as a private personal accomplishment . On the stage , having steered clear of comedy and confined myself to tragedy , it had never been cheapened and made nauseous by sham and machine representations indigenous to the hated footlights , and was an untapped preserve to be drawn upon now . So I was not to see Dawn till the midday dinner ; she was to appear last , like the star at a concert . A star she verily was when eventually she came before me carrying a well-baked roast on an old-fashioned dish . Her lovely face was scarlet from hurry and the fire , her bright hair gleamed in coquettish rolls , and a loose sleeve displayed a round and dimpled forearm -- a fitting continuance of the taper fingers grasping the chief dish of the wholesome and liberal menu she had prepared . Old Uncle Jake took the carver 's place , but Grandma Clay sat at his left elbow and instructed him what to do .