noon
` Something in my throat , just as I was speaking . It often happens . And as for what we were speaking of , there is no hurry . I will find the Maestro Alessandro before noon , and warn him not to come near our garden wall again , and I will tell him from you anything you wish , except that you do not care what becomes of him , for that would not be true ! ' She laughed again , but quite gently this time , and began to busy herself about the room , making preparations for Ortensia to dress . The girl had laid her head on her pillow again , looking up at the little pink silk rosette in the middle of the canopy , and she was sure that it had a much less sad look now than it had worn in the small hours by the flickering night light . This seemed quite natural to Ortensia , for the familiar little objects in a girl 's own room have a different expression for every hour of her life , to sympathise with each joy and sorrow , great or small , and with every hope , and surprise , and disappointment .