the midday
Sunday
`` What does it feel like , Missy -- the religious feeling ? '' Missy , her eyes bright behind their blur , did n't answer . Indeed , she could not have defined that sweetly sad glow , now so cruelly crushed , even had she wanted to . Missy did n't enjoy her dinner as much as she usually did the midday Sunday feasts when grandpa and grandma came to eat with them . She felt embarrassed and shy . Of course she had to answer when asked why she was n't eating her drumstick , and whether the green apples in grandma 's orchard had given her an `` upset , '' and other direct questions ; but when she could , she kept silent . She was glad Pete did n't talk to her much .