noon
The weather had grown mild , and often in the evening I envied Yorke -LRB- who had straightway , of course , made desperate love to Clotilde , who was old enough to be his mother -RRB- , sitting in the bow of the boat and thrumming his banjo lightly as he sang her some creole love-song he had picked up in St. Louis . Our trip was fast drawing to a close . The last evening on the river had arrived . We would tie up one more night ; all hands at the cordelle and the poles , we would reach Mrs. O'Fallon 's by noon , in time for dinner . I had determined not to linger there at all . I should go on , the same afternoon , to my uncle 's plantation , not many miles away , and the next day start for the East . I had told mademoiselle I would say good-by to her forever when we reached Mrs. O'Fallon 's , but in my own mind I was saying good-by to her now .