eleven o'clock
And , though this seems most proper , Jennings , who was a strict Methodist , did not think so ; so Lota had another lecture from Grandmamma , and went to bed under a sense of disgrace . So much for Sunday . Monday opened with bright sunshine . It had rained all night ; but by eleven o'clock the dear old garden was quite dry , and how sweet it did look ! The pink roses twinkled and winked their whisker-like calyxes as she went by ; the white ones shook their serene leaves , and sent out delicious smells . Every green thing looked greener than it had done before the rain . The blue sky , swept clear of clouds , seemed to have been rubbed and made brilliant .