twelve
o'clock
I thanked Heaven that I was neither , and went to sleep . Our new house was light and dry ; the flues worked well , and the spare chamber heated admirably . The baby exchanged the champagne-basket for his dainty pink-curtained crib ; Tip began to recover from the perpetual cold with which three weeks ' sitting in draughts , and tumbling into water-pails , and playing in the sink , had sweetened his temper ; Allis forsook her bandboxes for the crimson easy-chair -LRB- very becoming , that chair -RRB- , or tripped about on her own rested feet ; we returned to table-cloths , civilized life , and a fork apiece . In short , nothing at all worth mentioning happened , till that one night , -- I think it was our first Sunday , -- when Allis waked me at twelve o'clock with the announcement that some one was knocking at the door . Supposing it to be Bridget with the baby , -- croup , probably , or a fit , -- I unlocked and unlatched it promptly . No one was there , however ; and telling my wife , in no very gentle tone , if I remember correctly , that it would be a convenience , on such cold nights , if she could keep her dreams to herself , I shut the door distinctly and returned to my own . In the morning I observed a little white circle about each of Allis 's blue eyes , and after some urging she confessed to me that her sleep had been much broken by a singular disturbance in the room .