evening about nine
o'clock
And quite possibly , though he would never have any heart for singing , the day might come when he would again be able to whistle . It was somewhere about the second week in December that Trix became the recipient of another letter , a letter quite as amazing , perplexing , and extraordinary as that which she had perused in the summer-house at Llandrindod Wells . They had returned to London in October . The letter was brought to her in the drawing-room one evening about nine o'clock . Mrs. Arbuthnot had gone out to a Bridge party . Trix was engrossed in a rather exciting novel at the moment , a blazing fire and an exceedingly comfortable armchair adding to her blissful state of well-being . Barely raising her eyes from the book , she merely put out her hand and took the letter from the tray .