noon
`` Men hate flattery , '' she said . `` Hate it ? '' said Edith , `` they lap it up ! '' When the two young men sat down under an oak for their noon hour , with a bucket of buttermilk standing precariously in the grass beside them , John said again , anxiously , `` It was too hot for her ; I hope she wo n't have a headache . '' `` She always has headaches , '' Maurice said , carelessly . `` What ! '' said Bennett , alarmed ; `` she 's never said a word to me about headaches . ''