seven o'clock
Aunt Maria , who thought , I suppose , they said Agnès , not `` Monsieur , '' smiled pleasantly and agreed -- that would be `` tout à fait bien . '' Of course if Horatio Thomas Nelson Renour had been a Frenchman , or even heaps of Englishmen we know , he would have been delighted ; instead of which he got perfectly crimson all over his bronzed face and explained in fearful French to the landlady he could not sleep except on a top floor . Was n't it nice of him , Mamma ? Dinner was at seven o'clock in the table d'hôte , and about eight commercial travellers were already seated when we got down . We had glass racks to put our forks and knives on , and that wrung out kind of table linen , not ironed , but all beautifully clean ; and wonderfully good food . Uncle John made one end of our party and Mr. Renour the other , with Aunt Maria and me in the middle , and the commercial travellers , who all tucked in their table napkins under their chins , beyond . The American was so amusing : -- it was his language , not exactly what he said .