the hour of eight
Mrs. Verne , with the tactics of a shrewd diplomatist , had arranged matters to enable her to perform her part without opposition . Marguerite had to devote much time to the pressing duties devolving upon her , and when Mr. Lawson called at `` Sunnybank '' it always happened that she was out making her farewell calls . It was the last evening that Marguerite should gladden her home , perhaps , for many months to come . The bronze clock on the mantel shelf struck the hour of eight . The drawing-room was unoccupied , and Marguerite stealthily glided towards the piano and sat down . Her beautifully-moulded hands rivalled the ivory keys before her , and would have tempted the genius of a Phidias or a Lysippus . Soon a low , soft symphony sounded through the room a music that had power to move the soul and hold it entranced .