the ten o'clock morning
Father had boldly refused to wear the nice , good frilled shirt and `` movie-actor coat '' during the rehearsal . `` Very well , '' said Lulu , `` but you will to-morrow evening . '' Father was n't sure whether Lulu would use an ax or chloroform or tears on him , but he was gloomily certain that she would have him in the shameless garments on Saturday evening . There was a letter for him on the ten o'clock morning mail . He did n't receive many letters -- one a month from Joe Tubbs relating diverting scandal about perfectly respectable neighbors , or an occasional note from Cousin George Henry of Stamford . Lulu was acutely curious regarding it ; she almost smelled it , with that quivering sharp-pointed nose of hers that could tell for hours afterward whether Father had been smoking `` those nasty , undignified little cigarettes -- why do n't you smoke the handsome brier pipe that Harris gave you ? '' She brightly commented that the letter was from Boston .