midnight
`` His morning costume was an ample dressing-gown of gorgeously-flowered silk , and his morning was very apt to last all day . He rarely read ; but he would pace the great piazza for hours , with his hands buried in the pockets of his dressing-gown , and an air of sweet reverie , which any book must be a very entertaining one to produce . `` Society , of course , he saw little . There was some slight apprehension that , if he were bidden to social entertainments , he might forget his coat , or arrive without some other essential part of his dress ; and there is a sly tradition in the Titbottom family , that once , having been invited to a ball in honor of a new governor of the island , my grand father Titbottom sauntered into the hall towards midnight , wrapped in the gorgeous flowers of his dressing-gown , and with his hands buried in the pockets , as usual . There was great excitement among the guests , and immense deprecation of gubernatorial ire . Fortunately , it happened that the governor and my grandfather were old friends , and there was no offence . But , as they were conversing together , one of the distressed managers cast indignant glances at the brilliant costume of my grandfather , who summoned him , and asked courteously : '' ` Did you invite me , or my coat ? ' ''