Seven o’clock
She was dressed very prettily for the opening night of the Drawing Academy , wearing a delicate lace cap , and a new silk gown of Valentine 's choosing , made full enough to hide the emaciation of her figure . Her husband 's love , faithful through all affliction and change to the girlish image of its first worship , still affectionately exacted from her as much attention to the graces and luxuries of dress as she might have bestowed on them of her own accord , in the best and gayest days of youth and health . She had never looked happier and better in any new gown than in that , which Mr. Blyth had insisted on giving her , to commemorate the establishment of the domestic drawing school in her own room . Seven o'clock had been fixed as the hour at which the business of the academy was to begin . Always punctual , wherever his professional engagements were concerned , Valentine put the finishing touch to his preparations as the clock struck ; and perching himself gaily on a corner of Mrs. Blyth 's couch , surveyed his drawing-boards , his lamps , and the plaster cast set up for his pupils to draw from , with bland artistic triumph . `` Now , Lavvie , '' he said , `` before Zack comes and confuses me , I 'll just check off all the drawing things one after another , to make sure that nothing 's left down stairs in the studio , which ought to be up here . '' As her husband said these words , Mrs. Blyth touched Madonna gently on the shoulder .