about eight o'clock
I was thinking all the time of seeing her again , wondering if I should ever see her alone or to speak to her , ashamed of my behavior toward her -- in my thoughts at least -- vexed because I had felt toward her , except for the last two or three days , things that made it impossible to get really acquainted and friendly with her . I was absorbed in the attempt to figure out the meaning of her friendly acts when we parted , especially her coming back , as I was sure she had , against the will of Grandma Thorndyke ; and that kiss she had given me was a much greater problem than making time on my journey : I lived it over and over again a thousand times and asked myself what I ought to have done when she kissed me , and never feeling satisfied with myself for not doing more of something or other , I knew not what . It was well for me that my teams were way-wised so that they drove themselves . I could have made Monterey Centre easily that night ; for it was only about eight o'clock by the sun next morning when I pulled up at the blacksmith shop , and was told by Jim Boyd , the smith , that I was in Monterey Centre . And now I did not know what to do . I did not know where my land was , nor how to find out . Monterey Prairie was as blank as the sea , except for a few settlers ' houses scattered about within a mile or two of the village .