twelve o'clock
`` There , there , '' coaxed the boy , `` you 're all right , sir ; try to go to sleep , ca n't you ? '' Then Van turned over to the wall and wept salt Freshman tears , and the awe-struck boy gently closed the door . And Cupid , with his wings folded over his little arms , sat upon the bureau and laughed long and cynically . It was now past twelve o'clock . Church was over , and Dolores was returning . Home-ward gently she rode with surging thoughts in her bosom , and an expression of sweet , religious calm hovering over her straight black brows . That was the Spanish of her .