noon
The morning after his first visit to Hellingsley Coningsby rejoined his friends , as he had promised Oswald at their breakfast-table ; and day after day he came with the early sun , and left them only when the late moon silvered the keep of Coningsby Castle . Mr. Millbank , who wrote daily , and was daily to be expected , did not arrive . A week , a week of unbroken bliss , had vanished away , passed in long rides and longer walks , sunset saunterings , and sometimes moonlit strolls ; talking of flowers , and thinking of things even sweeter ; listening to delicious songs , and sometimes reading aloud some bright romance or some inspiring lay . One day Coningsby , who arrived at the hall unexpectedly late ; indeed it was some hours past noon , for he had been detained by despatches which arrived at the Castle from Mr. Rigby , and which required his interposition ; found the ladies alone , and was told that Sir Joseph and Oswald were at the fishing-cottage where they wished him to join them . He was in no haste to do this ; and Lady Wallinger proposed that when they felt inclined to ramble they should all walk down to the fishing-cottage together . So , seating himself by the side of Edith , who was tinting a sketch which she had made of a rich oriel of Hellingsley , the morning passed away in that slight and yet subtle talk in which a lover delights , and in which , while asking a thousand questions , that seem at the first glance sufficiently trifling , he is indeed often conveying a meaning that is not expressed , or attempting to discover a feeling that is hidden . And these are occasions when glances meet and glances are withdrawn : the tongue may speak idly , the eye is more eloquent , and often more true .