nine o'clock
_ we all know how beauties look when the sun breaks on them after a ball . They asked for Jacky . To their great chagrin he was not to be found . They waited , getting crosser and crosser , till nine o'clock , and then out comes my lord from the wood , walking toward them with his head down on his bosom , the picture of woe -- the milmeridien movement over again . `` There ! do n't let us scold him , '' said George , `` I am sure he has lost a relation , or maybe a dear friend ; anyway I hope it is not his sweetheart -- poor Jacky . Well , Jacky !