about eight o'clock
Her father had always taken a deep interest in him , and when the death of his uncle and aunt left him alone in the world , Dr. Woodburn had taken him into his home for a couple of years until he had gone away to school . Arthur had written once or twice , but Beth was staying with her Aunt Margaret , near Welland , that summer , and she had seen fit , for unexplained reasons , to stop the correspondence : so the friendship had ended there . It was five years now since she had seen her old play-fellow , and she found herself wondering if he would be greatly changed . After tea Beth took out her books , as usual , for an hour or two ; then , about eight o'clock , with her tin-pail on her arm , started up the road for the milk . This was one of her childhood 's tasks that she still took pleasure in performing . She sauntered along in the sweet June twilight past the fragrant clover meadow and through the pine wood , with the fire-flies darting beneath the boughs . Some girls would have been frightened , but Beth was not timid .