ten o'clock
`` Do n't look so glum , Mr. Watkins dear , '' said Cally . They did not go to any matinee on the last afternoon , the reason being that it was Monday and there were n't any , except the vaudevilles , which were voted tiresome . Florrie and Carlisle lunched quietly at `` home '' ; had a rubber of bridge afterwards in the apartment of Edith Jennison -LRB- who produced for the necessary fourth an acquaintance she had made last week in the tea-room of the Waldorf-Astoria -RRB- ; and rushed from the table for hats , veils , and a drive on the Avenue . Carlisle was to leave at ten o'clock . Her trunks were packed ; her `` reservations '' lay in the heavy gold bag swinging from her side . Home , somehow , beckoned to her as it had never done before . Besides , New York , with its swarming population -LRB- mostly with palms up -RRB- and its ceaseless quadruple lines of motor-cars , began to oppress her .