noon
`` Do n't think of me , father , '' she says -- `` do n't think of me ! Let us put our trust in Him who can shorten the days of our tribulation . '' She takes the old man 's arm , and like one who would forget her own troubles in her anxiety to relieve another , supports him on his way back to prison . It is high noon . She stands before the prison gate , now glancing at the serene sky , then at the cold , frowning walls , and again at the old pile , as if contemplating the wearying hours he must pass within it . `` Do n't repine-nerve yourself with resolution , and all will be well ! '' Having said this with an air of confidence in herself , she throws her arms about the old man 's neck , presses him to her bosom , kisses and kisses his wrinkled cheek , then grasps his hand warmly in her own .