eight o'clock
So , my boy , whatever you are , or whatever you do , be truthful , be pure , and be forgiving . '' `` God helping me , I will , father , '' I replied . Some time after we all gathered together in the library , where we usually sat in the evening . My father made it a rule to send the servants to bed early when we had no company , so although it was only eight o'clock and scarcely dark he had taken down the old family Bible in order that we might hear the Scriptures and join in prayer before retiring . My mother sat by Wilfred , her hand locked in his , while I sat near to my father , as was the usual custom , and we waited for the servants to come to prayers . Instead of all coming together , only one came , and announced that Deborah Teague had something to tell us . Father , in spite of all the complaints against Deborah , regarded her with much favour , and told the servant to show her in .