the midday sun
Eleanor was not faint , neither had she been crying ; but she was not much happier with her sketch than I had been with mine . The jutting group of birch-trees was well chosen , and she had drawn them admirably . But when she came to add the confused background of trees and undergrowth , her very outline had begun to look less satisfactory . When it came to colour -- and the midday sun was darting and glittering through the interstices of the trees , without supplying any effects of _ chiaroscuro _ to a subject already defective in point and contrast -- Eleanor was almost in despair . `` Where 's Jack ? '' said I , after condoling with her . `` He tried the birches for ten minutes , and then he went up the stream to look for _ algæ _ . ''