eight in the morning
Well , I suppose we must take our chance . '' Meanwhile George had mounted his cart and departed upon the road to Boisingham , urging his fat pony along as though he meant to be there in twenty minutes . But so soon as he was well out of reach of the Squire 's shouts and sight of the Castle gates , he deliberately turned up a bye lane and jogged along for a mile or more to a farm , where he had a long confabulation with a man about thatching some ricks . Thence he quietly made his way to his own little place , where he proceeded to comfortably get his breakfast , remarking to his wife that he was of opinion that there was no hurry about the Squire 's letter , as the `` lawyers '' was n't in the habit of coming to office at eight in the morning . Breakfast over , the philosophic George got into his cart , the fat pony having been tied up outside , and leisurely drove into the picturesque old town which lay at the head of the valley . All along the main street he met many acquaintances , and with each he found it necessary to stop and have a talk , indeed with two he had a modest half-pint . At length , however , his labour o'er , he arrived at Mr. Quest 's office , that , as all the Boisingham world knows , was just opposite the church , of which Mr. Quest was one of the churchwardens , and which but two years before was beautifully restored , mainly owing to his efforts and generous contributions .