five minutes to eleven
We stayed , of course , at Claridge 's , where we always stay when we go to town . Mother wanted to come , too , but father thought it better not . She would not agree to stay at home till we both promised to send her separate telegrams after the reading . At five minutes to eleven we entered Mr. Trent 's office . Father would not go a moment earlier , as he said it was bad form to seem eager at any time , but most of all at the reading of a will . It was a rotten grind , for we had to be walking all over the neighbourhood for half an hour before it was time , not to be too early . When we went into the room we found there General Sir Colin MacKelpie and a big man , very bronzed , whom I took to be Rupert St. Leger -- not a very creditable connection to look at , I thought !