about
five o'clock
She had the same bushy , commanding black eyebrows , the same aquiline nose , the same clearly marked lines of will , resolution and energy . The portrait seemed to cast a reflection upon her , as a father 's face is reflected in his child 's . But in hers the harshness of the features was softened by a gleam of rough kindliness , by an indefinable flame of sturdy devotion and masculine charity . The light in the room was the light of an evening in early spring , about five o'clock , a light as clear as crystal and as white as silver , the cold , chaste , soft light , which fades away in the flush of the sunset passing into twilight . The sky was filled with that light of a new life , adorably melancholy , like the still naked earth , and so replete with pathos that it moves happy souls to tears . `` Well , well ! my silly Germinie , weeping ? ''