midnight
Clara was proving the truth of her words . Life could never be to her again merely a bitter , sullen struggle for bread . A great hope was dawning , and though but a few rays yet quivered through the darkness , they were the earnest of a fuller light . Before midnight Mr. Jocelyn joined the watchers , and seated himself unobtrusively in a dusky corner of the room . Clara crouched on the floor beside her mother , her head resting on the bed , and her hand clasping the thin fingers of the dying woman . She insisted on doing everything the poor creature required , which was but little , for it seemed that life would waver out almost imperceptibly . Mildred sat at the foot of the bed , where her father could see her pure profile in the gloom .