nine o'clock
Cranston wired that he would give up the last ten days of his leave , and Mrs. Cranston , brave , submissive , but weeping sore at times , set to packing her soldier 's trunk . It was their last evening together for many a long month , and their friends knew it , and therefore , even if they called to leave a sympathetic word with the grandparents , they did not expect to see the captain and his wife . Once or twice the gray-haired mother had come to twine her arms about her big boy 's neck , or to say that Mr. and Mrs. Somebody had just called , but would n't intrude . It was , therefore , a surprise when towards nine o'clock she came to announce a caller below , -- a caller who begged not to be denied , -- Mrs. Barnard . `` Mrs. _ Barnard _ ! '' exclaimed the army wife , in that tone in which incredulity mingled with surprise tells to the observant ear that no welcome awaits the announced one . '' _ Who is _ Mrs. Barnard ? ''