midnight
He did not come ; she fancied he might be willing to let the dullness and loneliness , the monotony and silence of her prison , work their effect on her mind . Night , as welcome to-day as it had been yesterday unwelcome , fell at last , and hid the dingy familiar room , the worn furniture , the dusky outlook . She counted the minutes , and before it was nine by the clock was the prey of impatience , thinking the time past and gone and the tutor a poor deceiver . Ten was midnight to her ; she hoped against hope , walking her narrow bounds in the darkness . Eleven found her lying on her face on the floor , heaving dry sobs of despair , her hair dishevelled . And then , on a sudden she sprang up ; the key was grating in the lock ! While she stared , half demented , scarcely believing her happiness , Mr. Thomasson appeared on the threshold , his head -- he wore no wig -- muffled in a woman 's shawl , a shaded lanthorn in his hand .