ten o'clock
Coming to the oriel , she looked in . There were the rows of shiny heads , fair , brown , and black ; there were the long sable back and chopped-hay locks of the curate ; but where a queen-like figure had of old been wont to preside , she beheld a tallow face , with sandy hair under the most precise of net caps , and a straight thread-paper shape in scanty gray stuff and white apron . Dizzy with wrathful consternation , Cilla threw herself on one of the seats of the porch , shaking her foot , and biting her lip , frantic to know the truth , yet too much incensed to enter , even when the hum of united voices ceased , the rushing sound of rising was over , and measured footsteps pattered to the classes , where the manly interrogations sounded alternately with the shrill little answers . Clump , clump , came the heavy feet of a laggard , her head bent over her book , her thick lips vainly conning the unlearned task , unaware of the presence of the young lady , till Lucilla touched her , saying , ` What , Martha , a ten o'clock scholar ? ' She gave a little cry , opened her staring eyes , and dropped a curtsey . ` Whom have you here for mistress ? ' asked Lucilla .