midnight
He sent Eleanor a handsome tooled-leather portfolio to hold his letters , which he wrote on loose-leaf sheets and mailed unfolded . They were letters that deserved preservation , prose poems composed with infinite pains and copied with meticulous care . If the potpourri was at times redolent of the dried flowers of other men 's loves , Eleanor was blissfully unaware of it . When he wrote of the lonesome October of his most immemorial year , or spoke of her pilgrim soul coming to him at midnight in the silence of the sleep-time , she thrilled with admiration for his genius . Such literary masterpieces deserved adequate answers , and she found herself trying to make up in quantity what she lacked in quality . His letters always began , `` Dearest Héloïse , '' or `` Mélisande , '' or `` Baucis , '' or `` Isolde '' ; and , rather than acknowledge her ignorance of these classic allusions , she looked them up and sent her answers to `` Dear Abélard , '' or `` Pelléas , '' or `` Philemon , '' or `` Tristan , '' as the case demanded . She indited her missives with a dainty gold pen engraved with an orchid , which Harold had requested her never to profane by secular use .