twelve o'clock
Elizabeth has a talent for keeping secrets . '' He was not sorry that the door opened at that moment , and that Elizabeth , entering with little Jack in her arms , must have heard his words . She flashed a quick look at him -- it was one that savoured of reproach -- and advanced into the middle of the room , where she stood silent , waiting to be accused . It was twelve o'clock on the morning of a bright , cold November day . Mrs. Heron was lying on the sofa in the dining-room -- a shabbily-comfortable , old-fashioned room where most of the business of the house was transacted . Kitty sat on a low chair before the fire , warming her little , cold hands . She had a cat on her lap , and a novel on the floor beside her , and looked very young , very pretty , and very idle .