midnight
The spring has come . The air of the April night just lifts the leaves of the sleeping flowers . The moon is queen in the cloudless and starless sky . The stillness of the midnight hour is abroad , over land and over sea . In a villa on the westward shore of the Isle of Wight , the glass doors which lead from the drawing-room to the garden are yet open . The shaded lamp yet burns on the table . A lady sits by the lamp , reading .