about seven o'clock
The Low-Church onion still offended refined High Church nostrils , and the new spice was unwelcome to the palate of the genuine onion-eater . We will not accompany him to the Clerical Meeting today , because we shall probably want to go thither some day when he will be absent . And just now I am bent on introducing you to Mr. Bridmain and the Countess Czerlaski , with whom Mr. and Mrs. Barton are invited to dine tomorrow . Outside , the moon is shedding its cold light on the cold snow , and the white-bearded fir-trees round Camp Villa are casting a blue shadow across the white ground , while the Rev. Amos Barton , and his wife are audibly crushing the crisp snow beneath their feet , as , about seven o'clock on Friday evening , they approach the door of the above-named desirable country residence , containing dining , breakfast , and drawing rooms , etc. , situated only half a mile from the market-town of Milby . Inside , there is a bright fire in the drawing-room , casting a pleasant but uncertain light on the delicate silk dress of a lady who is reclining behind a screen in the corner of the sofa , and allowing you to discern that the hair of the gentleman who is seated in the arm-chair opposite , with a newspaper over his knees , is becoming decidedly grey . A little ` King Charles ' , with a crimson ribbon round his neck , who has been lying curled up in the very middle of the hearth-rug , has just discovered that that zone is too hot for him , and is jumping on the sofa , evidently with the intention of accommodating his person on the silk gown . On the table there are two wax-candles , which will be lighted as soon as the expected knock is heard at the door .