midnight
Mary Potter had scarcely slept during the night of her son 's absence . A painful unrest , such as she never remembered to have felt before , took complete possession of her . Whenever the monotony of the drenching rain outside lulled her into slumber for a few minutes , she was sure to start up in bed with a vague , singular impression that some one had called her name . After midnight , when the storm fell , the shrill wailing of the rising wind seemed to forebode disaster . Although she believed Gilbert to be safely housed in Chester , the fact constantly slipped from her memory , and she shuddered at every change in the wild weather as if he were really exposed to it . The next day , she counted the hours with a feverish impatience . It seemed like tempting Providence , but she determined to surprise her son with a supper of unusual luxury for their simple habits , after so important and so toilsome a journey .