twelve o'clock
I have not seen a lady , nor a room like this , since July three years . ' After that Ethel let him alone , satisfied that peace was the best means of recovering the exhaustion of his long-suffering . The difficulty was that this was no house for quiet , especially the day after the master 's return : the door-bell kept on ringing , and each time he looked startled and nervous , though assured that it was only patients . But at twelve o'clock in rushed Mr. Cheviot 's little brother , with a note from Mary , lamenting that it was too wet for herself , but saying that Charles was coming in the afternoon , and that he intended to have a dinner-party of old Stoneborough scholars to welcome Leonard back . Meanwhile , Martin Cheviot , wanting to see , and not to stare , and to unite cordiality and unconsciousness , made an awkward mixture of all , and did not know how to get away ; and before he had accomplished it , Mr. Edward Anderson was announced . He heartily shook hands with Leonard , eagerly welcomed him , and talked volubly , and his last communication was , ` If it clears , you will see Matilda this afternoon . ' ` I did not know she was here . '