seven o'clock
Miss Derwent laughed softly . Miss Martha often told people that the surf did not affect her at all disagreeably , and Edna 's experience had taught her to appreciate this . After all , it was a good thing to have some one about who could think of shutters , even though the fog had drawn back to a low , smoke-colored fold that softly encircled the horizon , and the gulls were cresting the waves with their white wings . It was only when they had guests at the Mill Farm that a seven o'clock breakfast was served , and as yet Sylvia was accounted one of that privileged class . Thinkright had asked her when she arrived at what hour it was her custom to breakfast , and she had shrugged her shoulders . `` Father and I never liked to take it before nine o'clock , '' she said , `` but it made the landlady so cross that when we owed for board we usually tried to get down by half past eight . '' Thinkright smiled at this .