eight o'clock
She was not really frank , and seemed far more friendly than she was , being more selfish than she knew , and far more selfish than she seemed : she was merry , and that goes a great way in seeming . Her mother spent no regard upon her ; her heart was too full of herself to have in it room for a grown-up daughter as well , with interests of her own . The younger was a child about six , of whom the mother took not so much care by half as a tigress of her cub . One morning , a little before eight o'clock , as Clare was coming down from his room to open the windows of the bank , he just saved himself from tumbling over something on the attic stair , which was dark , and at that point took rather a sharp turn . The something was a child , who gave a low cry , and started up to run away : there was not light enough for either to discern easily what the other was like . But Clare , to whom childhood was the strongest attraction he yet knew , bent down his face from where he stood on the step above her , and its moonlight glow of love and faith shone clear in the eyes of the little girl . The moment she saw his smile , she knew the soul that was the light of the smile , and her doll dropped from her hands as she raised them to lay her arms gently about his neck .