midday
As she leaned back in the old-fashioned chair , her eyes wandering over the various objects in this unaccountable abode , her imagination began to play , giving a life and history to the people in the tapestries and portraits . The outside world was almost forgotten when she was recalled to herself by the chimes of an enormous clock behind the door . This triumph of a previous century , after tolling twelve , rambled off with a music-box accompaniment into the quaint old minuet attributed to Louis XIII . Before it had finished , two other clocks began their midday strike . Elinor looked about in alarm , under a vague impression that the various objects in the room were coming to life . Then , with the reaction , she smiled and thought : `` Our friend is methodical with his clocks . '' But still , in this atmosphere , she was not at ease ; there was an excess of mystery , too much that needed explanation .