a quarter to four
She had her walking things on , and a little basket in her hand , well known to me as invariably containing jellies , puddings , or packets of tea for some of the many invalids to whom my mother was as an angel of mercy . She stopped only for two or three minutes , to tell me how thankful she was to know I had felt sorry for my behaviour in the morning , and how grieved to have to leave me at home when she would have liked me to have been out riding with my father , or walking with her ; and then , after some further words of monition , she left me to my solitary hour 's watch , and I could see her taking her way down the drive , and turning off through the wood , until the last flutter of her blue ribbons was lost in the distance . Then I bethought me of seeing how much longer I had to spend in my own room , and , looking at the clock-tower over the stables , found it was scarcely more than three o'clock . I could not feel free until a quarter to four , and the time began to feel very long and wearisome . In general , I was a boy of manifold resources , and every moment of my leisure time seemed too short for the many purposes to which I would willingly have applied it . But on this particular afternoon I seemed to weary of everything . Even my last new book of fairy stories failed to interest me .