nine o'clock at night
We did not live by any means a secluded or gloomy life , for my mother was fond of pleasant society : and I was quite as true to Margaret while associating with agreeable people , and hearing cheerful voices buzzing round me , as I could have been in a hermitage whose stillness was only broken by the howling of the storm . `` It was in the dreariest part of the winter which followed Joseph Wilmot 's escape that an incident occurred which gave me a strangely-mingled feeling of pleasure and pain . I was sitting one evening in my mother 's breakfast-parlour -- a little room situated close to the hall-door -- when I heard the ringing of the bell at the garden-gate . It was nine o'clock at night , a bitter wintry night , in which I should least have expected any visitor . So I went on reading my paper , while my mother speculated about the matter . `` Three minutes after the bell had rung , our parlour-maid came into the room , and placed something on the table before me . '' ` A parcel , sir , ' she said , lingering a little ; perhaps in the hope that , in my eager curiosity , I might immediately open the packet , and give her an opportunity of satisfying her own desire for information .