midnight
At all events , the place is of velvet , and my only complaint of Mr. Sloane is that , instead of an old widower , he 's not an old widow -LRB- or a young maid -RRB- , so that I might marry him , survive him , and dwell forever in this rich and mellow home . As I write here , at my bedroom table , I have only to stretch out an arm and raise the window-curtain to see the thick-planted garden budding and breathing and growing in the silvery silence . Far above in the liquid darkness rolls the brilliant ball of the moon ; beneath , in its light , lies the lake , in murmuring , troubled sleep ; round about , the mountains , looking strange and blanched , seem to bare their heads and undrape their shoulders . So much for midnight . To-morrow the scene will be lovely with the beauty of day . Under one aspect or another I have it always before me . At the end of the garden is moored a boat , in which Theodore and I have indulged in an immense deal of irregular navigation .