eight o’clock
Several miles slipped away before I well determined how I should open my negotiations : whether to papa Blake , in the first instance , or to madame , to whose peculiar province these secrets of the home department belonged ; or why not at once to Baby ? -- because , after all , with her it rested finally to accept or refuse . To address myself to the heads of the department seemed the more formal course ; and as I was acting entirely as an `` envoy extraordinary , '' I deemed this the fitting mode of proceeding . It was exactly eight o'clock as I drove up to the door . Mr. Blake was standing at the open window of the breakfast-room , sniffing the fresh air of the morning . The Blake mother was busily engaged with the economy of the tea-table ; a very simple style of morning costume , and a nightcap with a flounce like a petticoat , marking her unaffected toilet . Above stairs , more than one head _ en papillate _ took a furtive peep between the curtains ; and the butler of the family , in corduroys and a fur cap , was weeding turnips in the lawn before the door .