midday
This satisfied her . `` I may rest a little now , '' she said . He too was silent ; held down by the heavy hand of despair . The time had been , in the days of his failing health , when the solemn shadows of evening falling over the fields -- the soaring song of the lark in the bright heights of the midday sky -- the dear lost remembrances that the divine touch of music finds again -- brought tears into his eyes . They were dry eyes now ! Those once tremulous nerves had gathered steady strength , on the broad prairies and in the roving life . Could trembling sorrow , seeking its way to the sources of tears , overbear the robust vitality that rioted in his blood , whether she lived or whether she died ?