midday
* * * * * When , the next morning at about ten , Mrs. Eustace Ansell joined herself to the two gentlemen who still lingered over a desultory breakfast in Mrs. Westmore 's dining-room , she responded to their greeting with less than her usual vivacity . -LSB- Illustration : `` No -- I shall have to ask you to take my word for it . '' -RSB- It was one of Mrs. Ansell 's arts to bring to the breakfast-table just the right shade of sprightliness , a warmth subdued by discretion as the early sunlight is tempered by the lingering coolness of night . She was , in short , as fresh , as temperate , as the hour , yet without the concomitant chill which too often marks its human atmosphere : rather her soft effulgence dissipated the morning frosts , opening pinched spirits to a promise of midday warmth . But on this occasion a mist of uncertainty hung on her smile , and veiled the glance which she turned on the contents of the heavy silver dishes successively presented to her notice . When , at the conclusion of this ceremony , the servants had withdrawn , she continued for a moment to stir her tea in silence , while her glance travelled from Mr. Tredegar , sunk in his morning mail , to Mr. Langhope , who leaned back resignedly in his chair , trying to solace himself with Hanaford Banner , till midday should bring him a sight of the metropolitan press . `` I suppose you know , '' she said suddenly , `` that Bessy has telegraphed for Cicely , and made her arrangements to stay here another week . ''