eight o’clock
As for the poor mother , she was quite prostrated by her fears , and no wonder , but the father kept his head wonderfully well . Everything that could be done was done : people were sent out in all directions , shots were fired , and a continuous outlook kept from the great tree , but without avail . And then it grew dark , and still no sign of fair-haired little Flossie . At eight o'clock we had supper . It was but a sorrowful meal , and Mrs Mackenzie did not appear at it . We three also were very silent , for in addition to our natural anxiety as to the fate of the child , we were weighed down by the sense that we had brought this trouble on the head of our kind host . When supper was nearly at an end I made an excuse to leave the table .