ten o'clock
`` I like your mother much -- very much , '' said he , in his most melodious accents . `` Good boy ! I see now why you gave up Lady Dulcett . Go and take a canter by yourself , or with younger friends , and be sure you call on me so that we may be both at Mrs. Haughton 's by ten o'clock . I can go later to the concert if I feel inclined . '' He waved his hand , wheeled his horse , and trotted off towards the fair suburban lanes that still proffer to the denizens of London glimpses of rural fields , and shadows from quiet hedgerows . He wished to be alone ; the sight of Mrs. Haughton had revived recollections of bygone days -- memory linking memory in painful chain-gay talk with his younger schoolfellow -- that wild Charlie , now in his grave -- his own laborious youth , resolute aspirings , secret sorrows -- and the strong man felt the want of the solitary self-commune , without which self-conquest is unattainable .