midnight
Every time that he came he had brought her a new book to read , and he had taken her for long walks up towards the hills where the old powder mill stood . Then it was the young lawyer -- the `` brightest man in Worcester County '' -- who took her driving in a hired buggy , sent her a multitude of paper novels -LRB- which she never read -RRB- , with every love passage carefully underscored , and wrote very bad verse to her eyes and hair , whose `` velvet blackness was the shadow of a crown . '' Or , again , it was the youthful cavalry officer met in a flying visit to her Boston aunt , who loved her on first sight , gave her his photograph in uniform and a bead belt of Apache workmanship . He was forever singing to her -- to a guitar accompaniment -- an old love song : `` At midnight hour Beneath the tower He murmured soft , ` Oh nothing fearing With thine own true soldier fly . ' '' Then she had come to Chicago , and Landry Court , with his bright enthusiasms and fine exaltations had loved her . She had never taken him very seriously but none the less it had been very sweet to know his whole universe depended upon the nod of her head , and that her influence over him had been so potent , had kept him clean and loyal and honest . And after this Corthell and Jadwin had come into her life , the artist and the man of affairs .