midnight
So kind and soft is love , so tender and sweet-spoken , that you would think he would not so much as ruffle the leaf of a rose , nor breathe too sharply on a violet , lest he should hurt the flower-soul within ; and if you treat him hospitably he is kind to the last , so that when he is gone there is still a sweet savor of him left . But if you would drive him roughly away with scorn and rude language , he will stand at your door and will not leave you . Then his wings drop from him , and he grows strong and fierce , and deadly and beautiful , as the fallen archangel of heaven , crying aloud bitter things to you by day and night ; till at the last he will break down bolt and bar and panel , and enter your chamber , and drag you out with him to your death in the wild darkness . But Josephine blushed deeply there in the old-fashioned drawing-room at midnight , and as she turned away she wondered at herself , for she could not believe nor understand what was happening . Poor girl ! She had talked of love so often as an abstract thing , she had seen so many love-makings of others , and so many men had tried to make love to her in her short brilliant life , and she had always thought it could not come near her , because , of course , she really loved Ronald . She had marveled , indeed , at what people were willing to do , and at what they were ready to sacrifice , for a feeling that seemed to her of such little importance as that .