noon
`` Well done , Cecil , '' said Anna , `` that is the spirit I like . '' For she knew as she looked at him , that he possessed a wealth which no money can buy , a soul full of poetry , a mind full of genius , the elements of true greatness in any art , and the only wealth that she valued . And Cecil went on with his painting , and progressed , and brought more depth of tone and beauty into his pictures with every fresh attempt , till the canvas seemed to live under his hand , and his poetic soul and gentle nature spoke through his art . When any difficulty presented itself , he would always seek Anna and have her near him , not that she was an artist , but from some cause he could paint his best when she was by ; indeed they were together the greater part of the time , for if they began the day in their different parts of the house , by some chance they either found each other in the library , or Lady Dorothy 's walk , long before noon . They drifted to the same place , they scarcely knew how , but they began to know that the presence of each one to the other , was equally essential to their happiness . Cecil was a poet , not a writer of rhymes or jingles , but as we have said a true poet in his soul . Anna felt this in all her intercourse with him and heard it in the tones of his voice when he spoke , a voice that had a ring in it , a resonance , and that exquisite power of modulation which says more than the words themselves .