four o'clock
There was a `` lingerie '' shop , kept by a Frenchwoman , whose acquaintance Aimée had made in the days when she was a London nursemaid , and thither she betook herself , rather than to an hotel , to spend the few night-hours that intervened before the Birmingham coach started at early morning . She slept or watched on a sofa in the parlour , for spare-bed there was none ; but Madame Pauline came in betimes with a good cup of coffee for the mother , and of `` soupe blanche '' for the boy ; and they went off again into the wide world , only thinking of , only seeking the `` him , '' who was everything human to both . Aimée remembered the sound of the name of the village where Osborne had often told her that he alighted from the coach to walk home ; and though she could never have spelt the strange uncouth word , yet she spoke it with pretty slow distinctness to the guard , asking him in her broken English when they should arrive there ? Not till four o'clock . Alas ! and what might happen before then ! Once with him she would have no fear ; she was sure that she could bring him round ; but what might not happen before he was in her tender care ?