twelve o'clock
Neither had spoken for a time . To-morrow there would probably be lawyers to see and the funeral to arrange for , and a hundred things to do ; but to-day there was a lull in which time itself seemed to have stood still . Years had passed since this morning , and yet the clocks marked only a few hours on their dials . Mrs. Ogilvie had died at twelve o'clock , and the very flowers which she had placed by her table still bloomed freshly , and a book she had been reading lay open where she had left it . Yet it seemed a lifetime since she had died . During the interminable afternoon , and in the stillness of the big library , with its ordered rows of books and solemn-looking , carved cupboards , Peter and Jane Erskine sat together feeling oppressively this great lapse of time that had passed . Their understanding of one another had always been a strong bond between them ; and now they felt not like the lovers of yesterday , but like those whose lives have been linked for years , and for whom loyalty and faith have grown deeper and stronger as troubles and storms came .