noon
I can see her , as she sits between this estimable and most correct of personages and the misshapen , crotchety , often violent and explosive little man on the other side of her , leaning and swaying towards him as she speaks , and looking into his sad eyes as if she found some fountain in them at which her soul could quiet its thirst . Women like the Model are a natural product of a chilly climate and high culture . It is not `` The frolic wind that breathes the spring , Zephyr with Aurora playing , '' when the two meet `` -- on beds of violets blue , And fresh-blown roses washed in dew , '' that claim such women as their offspring . It is rather the east wind , as it blows out of the fogs of Newfoundland , and clasps a clear-eyed wintry noon on the chill bridal couch of a New England ice-quarry . -- Do n't throw up your cap now , and hurrah as if this were giving up everything , and turning against the best growth of our latitudes , -- the daughters of the soil . The brain-women never interest us like the heart women ; white roses please less than red . But our Northern seasons have a narrow green streak of spring , as well as a broad white zone of winter , -- they have a glowing band of summer and a golden stripe of autumn in their many-colored wardrobe ; and women are born to us that wear all these hues of earth and heaven in their souls .