eight o'clock
On the present evening , Miss Roxy sat bolt upright , as was her wont , in one corner of the fireplace , with her spectacles on her nose , and an unwonted show of candles on the little stand beside her , having resumed the task of the silk dress which had been for a season interrupted . Mrs. Kittridge , with her spectacles also mounted , was carefully and warily `` running-up breadths , '' stopping every few minutes to examine her work , and to inquire submissively of Miss Roxy if `` it will do ? '' Captain Kittridge sat in the other corner busily whittling on a little boat which he was shaping to please Sally , who sat on a low stool by his side with her knitting , evidently more intent on what her father was producing than on the evening task of `` ten bouts , '' which her mother exacted before she could freely give her mind to anything on her own account . As Sally was rigorously sent to bed exactly at eight o'clock , it became her to be diligent if she wished to do anything for her own amusement before that hour . And in the next room , cold and still , was lying that faded image of youth and beauty which the sea had so strangely given up . Without a name , without a history , without a single accompaniment from which her past could even be surmised , -- there she lay , sealed in eternal silence . `` It 's strange , '' said Captain Kittridge , as he whittled away , -- `` it 's very strange we do n't find anything more of that ar ship .