noon
It was all so sweet and peaceful , and the years had not been wasted which had been spent in dreaming . What beautiful dreams had kept her company there -- dreams of the future , of all she would accomplish in life , of all life 's possibilities ! Oh no , not possibilities ; for there was nothing in actual life to correspond with those imaginings . Not more unlike were those Turner canvases , daubed over with dull earthy paint , to the mysterious shadowy depths , the crystal purity , the evanescent splendours of nature at morn and noon and eventide , than was this married London life to the life she had figured in her dreams . That was the reality , the true life , and this that was called reality only a crude and base imitation . They were still talking of Eyethorne when Merton returned ; but not alone , for he brought a friend with him , a young gentleman whom he introduced as Arthur Eden . He had not expected to find Fan with his wife , and a shade of annoyance passed over his face when he saw her .