a quarter past eight
It was a warm , bright morning -- that twenty-ninth of August in the year 1782 . The windows at each end of the room were wide open , but scarcely a breath of air wandered in , or stirred the lilac bushes in the garden . For the Tillotsons ' house could boast of a respectable strip of ground , although it stood in a street in Portsea . At a quarter past eight Clarissa Tillotson came downstairs , and entered the room with a quick , firm step , taking no notice of the parrot 's salutation . She was a tall , fair girl of nineteen ; her hair , worn according to the fashion of that period , in short curls , was almost flaxen ; her eyes were clear blue , her features regular , and , but for a certain hardness and sternness about the mouth , she might have been pronounced beautiful . She was dressed in a short-waisted gown of white muslin , with a blue girdle ; her bodice was cut square , leaving her neck uncovered ; her tight sleeves reached to the wrists . The gown was so scanty , and the skirt clung so closely to her figure , that it made her appear even taller than she really was .