twenty-five minutes to eight
To her uncle 's bargain she must consent . She got up abruptly and flung her hat on the bed -- her cloak had already fallen from her -- and without further hesitation she descended the stairs . Francis Markrute was still seated in his library ; he had taken out his watch and was calculating the time . It was twenty-five minutes to eight ; his guests would be coming to dine at eight o'clock and he had not begun to dress . Would his niece have made up her mind by then ? That there could be any doubt about the fact that she would make up her mind as he wished never entered his head . It was only a question of time but it would be better , for every reason , if she arrived at the conclusion at once .