afternoon about five o'clock
Could it be , she asked herself , that Reine was going to take her and have her taught to be an artist ? The thought was too delightful to be borne with , considering the likelihood of disappointment . She tried to put it out of her head , and listened to Mr. Enderby as he talked to her of Westminster Abbey and the Tower . That afternoon about five o'clock , in a certain handsome drawing-room in Portland Place , Reine was flitting about restlessly with flushed cheeks , now re-arranging the roses in some jar , now picking up her embroidery and putting a few stitches in it , then going to the window and looking out . The afternoon tea equipage was on a little table beside her , but she did not help herself to a cup . She was evidently waiting for some one . At last there was a sound of wheels stopping , and Reine 's trembling hands dropped her work into her basket .