noon
On Monday morning the heat had broken , and an east wind with the breath of the sea in it was blowing . Ellen started for her work at half-past six . She held her father 's little , worn leather-bag , in which he had carried his dinner for so many years . The walk was so long that it would scarcely give her time to come home at noon , and as for taking a car , that was not to be thought of for a moment on account of the fare . Ellen walked along briskly , the east wind blew in her face , she smelled the salt sea , and somehow it at once soothed and stimulated her . Without seeing the mighty waste of waters , she seemed to realize its presence ; she gazed at the sky hanging low with a scud of gray clouds , which did not look unlike the ocean , and the sense of irresponsibility in the midst of infinity comforted her . `` I am not Ellen Brewster after all , '' she thought .