two o'clock
the son whispered brokenly . `` Poor man , I 'm glad you did n't know ! '' He wrapped the picture in a sheet of newspaper , put it under his arm , and , leaving the house hurriedly and stealthily , went downtown to the shop of a silversmith , where he spent sixty dollars on a resplendently festooned silver frame for the picture . Having lunched upon more coffee , he returned to the house at two o'clock , carrying the framed photograph with him , and placed it upon the centre-table in the library , the room most used by Isabel and Fanny and himself . Then he went to a front window of the long `` reception room , '' and sat looking out through the lace curtains . The house was quiet , though once or twice he heard his mother and Fanny moving about upstairs , and a ripple of song in the voice of Isabel -- a fragment from the romantic ballad of Lord Bateman . `` Lord Bateman was a noble lord , A noble lord of high degree ; And he sailed West and he sailed East , Far countries for to see ... '' The words became indistinct ; the air was hummed absently ; the humming shifted to a whistle , then drifted out of hearing , and the place was still again .