noon
She bade him good-night , and went slowly up to her own room to spend the weary wakeful hours in a bitter struggle , praying that she might be enlightened as to what she ought to do ; praying that she might die rather than become the wife of Stephen Whitelaw . When she and her father met at breakfast in the dull gray January morning , his aspect was even darker than it had been on the previous night ; but he did not ask her if she had arrived at any conclusion . He took his meal in sullen silence , and left her without a word . They met again a little before noon , at which hour it was Mr. Carley 's habit to consume a solid luncheon . He took his seat in the same gloomy silence that he had preserved at breakfast-time , but flung an open letter across the table towards his daughter . `` Am I to read this ? '' she asked gently .