three o'clock on Saturdays
Waking , after a while , she locked her hands under her head , and lay listening happily to the old and familiar sounds of home . She heard Hong bargaining in his own minor chatter with a fruit vendor , and Alix and her father chuckling over some small confidence in the porch . She heard the subdued clink of dishes , the squawk of a surprised chicken , and the girls ' murmuring voices . It was Saturday , Cherry remembered , when Peter 's voice suddenly sounded above the others and was hastily hushed for her sake ; Peter was always there at three o'clock on Saturdays . There was another voice , too , pleasant and crisp and even a trifle fastidious ; that must be Justin . Late in the afternoon , rested , fresh , and her old sweet self in the white ruffles , she came down to join them . They had settled themselves under the redwoods , Anne and Justin , Peter and Alix and Buck , the dog , all jumped up to greet her .