eleven o’clock
That it should come to this is hard for me ! ` Tis now all darkness -- `` a land of darkness as darkness itself ; and of the shadow of death without any order , and where the light is as darkness . ''' Yes , the artificial bearing which this extraordinary man had adopted before strangers ever since he had overheard the conversation at the inn , left him now , and he mourned for Cytherea aloud . Knapwater Park is the picture -- at eleven o'clock on a muddy , quiet , hazy , but bright morning -- a morning without any blue sky , and without any shadows , the earth being enlivened and lit up rather by the spirit of an invisible sun than by its bodily presence . The local Hunt had met for the day 's sport on the open space of ground immediately in front of the steward 's residence -- called in the list of appointments , ` Old House , Knapwater ' -- the meet being here once every season , for the pleasure of Miss Aldclyffe and her friends . Leaning out from one of the first-floor windows , and surveying with the keenest interest the lively picture of pink and black coats , rich-coloured horses , and sparkling bits and spurs , was the returned and long-lost woman , Mrs. Manston . The eyes of those forming the brilliant group were occasionally turned towards her , showing plainly that her adventures were the subject of conversation equally with or more than the chances of the coming day .