ten o'clock
She seemed to have grown softer , and there was something childlike in the position of her arm on the counterpane , in her hand turned palm upward , in her half-curled fingers . A lover , were he a poet , might have likened them to the petals of a flower that had begun to open with returning day . Presently the sleeper stirred and opened her eyes , dimly aware of a retreating presence and a closing door , but when , an hour later , she awoke fully , the impression was like that of a dream . It was ten o'clock when she rang her bell and ordered breakfast in her room . This order was as unusual as her late sleep , but she seemed to herself to have awakened a different person , one in whom such small changes of action were merely an index of greater possibilities . She received her father 's inquiries through Lena with indifference , and sent back word that she had been only over-tired . Knowing that he lingered below to see her , she delayed deliberately until he should grow impatient and leave the house , for she wished to take up again the train of thought that had kept her so long awake the previous night .