Morning,
noon
Within doors , she best liked Mr. Carleton 's favourite rooms . Their rich colouring and moderated light , and endless stores of beauty and curiosity , made them a place of fascination . Out of doors she found still more to delight her . Morning , noon , and night , she might be seen near the house gazing , taking in pictures of natural beauty , which were for ever after to hang in Fleda 's memory as standards of excellence in that sort . Nature 's hand had been very kind to the place , moulding the ground in beautiful style . Art had made happy use of the advantage thus given her ; and now what appeared was neither art nor nature , but a perfection that can only spring from the hands of both . Fleda 's eyes were bewitched .