eleven o'clock
Her husband being long dead , she regarded her own sacrificial days as over , and she remained tolerably comfortable on what he had left behind him . In the days of his life , the money had taken him away to those vague haunts of men ; but now it solaced , every penny of it , his widow . As she sat by the kindled fire , Mrs. Amber resumed her knitting , and as she knitted she wondered fondly what the new baby would be like ; whether it would be boy or girl , and just exactly what piece of work she had better get in hand against its arrival . So Osborn Kerr , arriving home not very late -- it was only just after eleven o'clock -- found his mother-in-law seated alone upon his hearth , needles flying over one of the pale blue jerseys in which little George was to winter . She greeted his stare of astonishment placidly , with her propitiating smile and deceitful words : `` I thought you would be cold , Osborn , so I put a match to the fire . '' `` Oh , thanks , '' said Osborn , `` thanks very much . Where 's Marie ? ''