noon
for youth and life and the joy of it . To the eyes of Barnabas , the beauty of the world about him served only to remind him of the beauty of her who was compounded of all things beautiful , -- the One and Only Woman , whose hair was yellow like the ripening corn , whose eyes were deep and blue as the infinite heaven , whose lips were red as the poppies that bloomed beside the way , and whose body was warm with youth , and soft and white as the billowy clouds above . Thus on galloped Barnabas with the dust behind and the white road before , and with never a thought of London , or its wonders , or the gathering shadow . It was well past noon when he beheld a certain lonely church where many a green mound and mossy headstone marked the resting-place of those that sleep awhile . And here , beside the weather-worn porch , were the stocks , that `` place of thought '' where Viscount Devenham had sat in solitary , though dignified meditation . A glance , a smile , and Barnabas was past , and galloping down the hill towards where the village nestled in the valley . Before the inn he dismounted , and , having seen Four-legs well bestowed , and given various directions to a certain sleepy-voiced ostler , he entered the inn , and calling for dinner , ate it with huge relish .