About seven o'clock
Then came Christmas Eve . The weather had changed ; to-night there was frost in the air , and the light of stars made a shimmer upon the black vault . Gilbert always gave this season to companionship with his mother . About seven o'clock they were talking quietly together of memories light and grave , of Gilbert 's boyhood , of his sister who was dead , of his father who was dead . Then came a pause , whilst both were silently busy with the irrecoverable past . Mrs. Grail broke the silence to say : ` You 're a lonely man , Gilbert . ' ` Why no , not lonely , mother .