half past seven o'clock
Evening closed in with a temperature so mild that fires were permitted to expire in the ashes ; and morning broke with a cold nor-wester , whistling through every crack and cranny , in a tone that made you shrink and shiver . `` Winter at last , '' said I , creeping forth from my warm bed , with a very natural feeling of reluctance . `` Time , '' was the half asleep and half awake response of Mr. Smith , as he drew the clothes about his shoulders , and turned himself over for the enjoyment of his usual half hour morning nap . It was Saturday -- that busiest day in the seven ; at least for housekeepers -- and as late as half past seven o'clock , yet the house felt as cold as a barn . I stepped to the register to ascertain if the fire had been made in the heater . Against my hand came a pressure of air -- cold air . `` Too bad ! ''