noon
And while Rose 's face and fate had sunk into the shadows of the past , even for her sister , Aileen was _ here _ , struggling for her delicate , threatened life , her hand always in the hand of this woman who had tried to steal her lover from her , her soft , hopeless eyes , so tragically unconscious , bent upon the bold intriguer . What possessed the child ? Warkworth 's letters , Julie 's company -- those seemed to be all she desired . And at last , in the June beauty and brilliance , when a triumphant summer had banished the pitiful spring , when the meadows were all perfume and color , and the clear mountains , in a clear sky , upheld the ever-new and never-ending pomp of dawn and noon and night , the little , wasted creature looked up into Julie 's face , and , without tears , gasped out her story . `` These are his letters . Some day I 'll -- I 'll read you some of them ; and this -- is his picture . I know you saw him at Lady Henry 's .