eleven o'clock on Tuesday
Aunt Amy found it hard to make the pies that morning . She was enveloped in a deep sadness , a sadness which in some misunderstood way seemed inseparable from the idea of that lost friend of hers , the girl-bride whose marriage hour had never struck . It seemed to Aunt Amy that the girl had been waiting a very long time and was tired . Even if the world were round , it was a very big world and eleven o'clock on Tuesday took a wearisome time to travel around it . She could not understand why she should feel so terribly sorry for the waiting girl , but she did . A hot tear fell into the pie-crust . That would never do !