morning, noon
Only to think of Uncle and Aunt Geoffrey having a novel in their history . '' `` That there are better novels in real life than in stories , is a truth or a truism often repeated , Henrietta , '' said her mother with a soft sigh , which she repressed in an instant , and proceeded : `` Poor Frank 's illness and death at Oxford brought them together the next year in a very different manner . Geoffrey was one of his chief nurses to the last , and was a great comfort to them all ; you may suppose how grateful they were to him . Next time I saw him , he seemed quite to have buried his youthful spirits in his studies : he was reading morning , noon , and night , and looking ill and overworked . '' `` O , Uncle Geoffrey ! dear good Uncle Geoffrey , '' cried Henrietta , in an ecstasy ; `` you were as delightful as a knight of old , only as you could not fight tournaments for her , you were obliged to read for her ; and pining away all the time and saying nothing about it . '' `` Nothing beyond a demure inquiry of me when we were alone together , after the health of the General .