seven o'clock
With a steady , reproachful look at Miss Merton , whose shifting eyes refused to meet hers , Marjorie walked from the room , ready to burst into tears , and when the all but interminable afternoon was ended , hurried home to the shelter of her faithful captain 's arms and poured forth her grief and wrongs . But the notice of the lost pin posted on the bulletin board brought forth no trace of the vanished butterfly . Marjorie made a valiant effort to thrust aside her heavy sense of loss and allow the spirit of Christmas to enter her heart . She had promised Constance her help in arranging Santa Claus ' visit to Charlie , and , when on Christmas eve , at a little after seven o'clock she set out for the Stevens ' weighed down by numerous festively-wrapped , be-ribboned packages , she was filled with that quiet exaltation that attends the performance of a good deed and happier than she had been for several days . `` Shh ! '' Constance met her at the door , a warning finger on her lips . `` Has n't he gone to sleep yet ? ''