eleven o'clock
I must say that for an hour or two I was happy enough . But the afternoon was terrible . We keep open house on Xmas afternoon , and father makes a champagne punch , and somebody pours tea , although nobody drinks it , and there are little cakes from the club , and the house is decorated with poinsettias . At eleven o'clock the mail came in , and mother sorted it over , while father took a gold piece out to the post-man . There were about a million cards , and mother glanced at the addresses and passed them round . But suddenly she frowned . There was a small parcel , addressed to me .