seven o'clock
`` Why not let them stay at Briarwood till Lady Mabel is mistress there ? '' Mr. Scobel did not enter into this discussion . He sat serenely gazing at the fire , and sipping his tea , enjoying this hour of rest and warmth after a long day 's fatigue and hard weather . He had an Advent service at seven o'clock that evening , and would but just have time to tramp home through the winter dark , and take a hurried meal , before he ran across to his neat little vestry and shuffled on his surplice , while Mrs. Scobel played her plaintive voluntary on the twenty-guinea harmonium . `` And where is young Vawdrey now ? '' inquired Mrs. Tempest blandly . She could only think of the Squire of Briarwood as the lad from Eton -- clumsy , shy , given to breaking teacups , and leaving the track of his footsteps in clay or mud upon the Aubusson carpets .