eight o'clock
Warm thoughts of Nancy filled his heart , as if they had said good-by to each other that cold afternoon in Boston only the winter before . He had not been so eager to see any one for a long time . Such is the triumph of friendship : even love itself without friendship is the victim of chance and time . When supper was over in the Knox House , the one centre of public entertainment in East Rodney , it was past eight o'clock , and Mr. Aldis felt like a dim copy of Rip Van Winkle , or of the gay Tom Aldis who used to know everybody , and be known of all men as the planner of gayeties . He lighted a cigar as he sat on the front piazza of the hotel , and gave himself up to reflection . There was a long line of lights in the second story of a wooden building opposite , and he was conscious of some sort of public interest and excitement . `` There is going to be a time in the hall , '' said the landlord , who came hospitably out to join him .