six o'clock
All that evening was devoted to the packing of hampers , and to general skirmishing . The picnic was to be held on the highest hill-top between Kingthorpe and Winchester , one of those little Lebanons , fair and green , on which the yew-trees flourished like the cedars of the East , but with a sturdy British air that was all their own . The birthday dawned with the soft pearly gray and tender opal tints which presage a fair noontide . Before six o'clock the children had all besieged Bessie 's door , with noisy tappings and louder congratulations . At seven , they were all seated at breakfast , the table strewn with birthday gifts , mostly of that useless and semi-idiotic character peculiar to such tributes -- ormolu inkstands , holding a thimbleful of ink -- penholders warranted to break before they have been used three times -- purses with impossible snaps -- photograph frames and pomatum-pots . Bessie pretended to be enraptured with everything . The purse Horry gave her was ` too lovely . '