eleven o'clock
Not that this was an unusual form of entertainment , nor one that excited special comment . Almost every neighborhood had its morning -LRB- and often its evening -RRB- `` Readings , '' presided over by some one who read well and without fatigue -- some sweet old maid , perhaps , who knew how to grow old gracefully . At these times a table would be rolled into the library by the deferential servant of the house , on which he would place the dear lady 's spectacles and a book , its ivory marker showing where the last reading had ended -- it might be Prescott 's `` Ferdinand and Isabella , '' or Irving 's `` Granada , '' or Thackeray 's `` Vanity Fair , '' or perhaps , Dickens 's `` Martin Chuzzlewit . '' At eleven o'clock the girls would begin to arrive , each one bringing her needle-work of some kind -- worsted , or embroidery , or knitting -- something she could manage without discomfort to herself or anybody about her , and when the last young lady was in her seat , the same noiseless darky would tiptoe in and take his place behind the old maid 's chair . Then he would slip a stool under her absurdly small slippers and tiptoe out again , shutting the door behind him as quietly as if he found the dear lady asleep -- and so the reading would begin . A reading by Richard , however , was always an event of unusual importance , and an invitation to be present was never declined whether received by letter or by word of mouth . St. George had been looking forward eagerly to the night , and when the shadows began to fall in his now almost bare bedroom , he sent for Todd to help him dress .