nine o'clock
Come near , by all means , reader . Do not be shy . Stoop over his shoulder fearlessly , and read as he scribbles . `` It is nine o'clock ; the carriage will not return before eleven , I am certain . Freedom is mine till then ; till then I may occupy her room , sit opposite her chair , rest my elbow on her table , have her little mementoes about me . `` I used rather to like Solitude -- to fancy her a somewhat quiet and serious , yet fair nymph ; an Oread , descending to me from lone mountain-passes , something of the blue mist of hills in her array and of their chill breeze in her breath , but much also of their solemn beauty in her mien . I once could court her serenely , and imagine my heart easier when I held her to it -- all mute , but majestic .