nearly seven o'clock
The women of that day scorned lying down , except at night , and as evening came on they donned starched dresses ; I recall in particular one my mother wore , with little vertical stripes of black and white , and a full skirt . And how they talked , from the beginning of the visit until the end ! I have often since wondered where the topics came from . It was not until nearly seven o'clock that the train arrived which brought home my Cousin Robert . He was a big man ; his features and even his ample moustache gave a disconcerting impression of rugged integrity , and I remember him chiefly in an alpaca or seersucker coat . Though much less formal , more democratic -- in a word -- than my father , I stood in awe of him for a different reason , and this I know now was because he possessed the penetration to discern the flaws in my youthful character , -- flaws that persisted in manhood . None so quick as Cousin Robert to detect deceptions which were hidden from my mother .