six o'clock
How much help the people lose who lose all that ! When the sun 's first look at the mountains breaks into a smile ; when morning softly draws off the veil from the work there is to do ; when the stir of the breeze speaks courage or breathes kisses of sympathy ; and the clear blue sky seems waiting for the rounded and perfected day to finish its hours , now just beginning . Diana often saw it so ; she did not often stop so long at her window to look and listen as she did this morning . It was a clear , calm , crisp morning , without a touch of frost , promising one of those mellow , golden , delicious days of September that are the very ripeness of the year ; just yet six o'clock held only the promise of it . Like her life ! But the daylight brought all the vigour of reality ; and last night was moonshine . Diana sat at her window a few minutes drinking it all in , and then went to her dairy .