noon
Neither asked more , for both felt , beyond a doubt , that there might have been confidences in that conversation , too sacred to be revealed to other ears . The sick-headache did come , as it had promised ; and Joe Harris , her temples bathed with cologne by the willing hands of little Susy , went up to an enforced _ siesta _ in her little bed-room . But she had the satisfaction , as the drowsy hum of the summer afternoon gradually lulled her into slumber , of saying to herself -- the best of all auditors for those who have sound hearts and clear consciences : `` I thought I would do it -- I meant to do it -- and may I never play detective again if I do n't believe that I have _ done _ it ! '' In order to demonstrate more clearly the state of affairs before existing at the house of John Crawford , and the effect really produced by the missive -LRB- it might almost as well have been called a _ missile _ -RRB- of Josephine Harris , -- it will be necessary to change the point of view to the big house on the hill , at a little before noon on that pleasant Sunday of summer . The back piazza of the house looked north and eastward over a slight depression which might almost be called a valley , and then at the range of hills rising behind and stretching downward on the other side almost to the Mohawk . Nearer , it looked out upon an extensive garden , carefully laid out and thriftily in growth with all the ground-fruits and vegetables natural to the climate , at that time in full luxuriance . Around the high board fences of the garden stood an almost endless variety of fruit-trees , the cherry-trees at that moment literally red , or black , or amber , as the case might be , with those delicious little globules of pulpy fruit-flesh which seem like drops of fragrant sweetness squeezed from the very heart of Nature .