eight in the evening
And since he was nothing if not conscientious , he always worked himself to the bone . To-day he had risen at half-past six , and after his bath and exercises , had sat down to his sermon -- for , even now , he wrote a new sermon once a month , though he had the fruits of twenty-six years to choose from . True , these new sermons were rather compiled than written , because , bereft of his curate , he had not time enough for fresh thought on old subjects . At eight he had breakfasted with Noel , before she went off to her hospital , whence she would return at eight in the evening . Nine to ten was his hour for seeing parishioners who had troubles , or wanted help or advice , and he had received three to-day who all wanted help , which he had given . From ten to eleven he had gone back to his sermon , and had spent from eleven to one at his church , attending to small matters , writing notices , fixing hymns , holding the daily half-hour Service instituted during wartime , to which but few ever came . He had hurried back to lunch , scamping it so that he might get to his piano for an hour of forgetfulness .