midnight
They sat down once more ; they had filled their glasses for the last time ; to pledge to their faithful friendship , and the happiness of Coningsby and Edith ; when the door of the room opened , and there appeared , MR. RIGBY ! END OF BOOK VII . BOOK VIII . It was the heart of the London season , nearly four years ago , twelve months having almost elapsed since the occurrence of those painful passages at Hellingsley which closed the last book of this history , and long lines of carriages an hour before midnight , up the classic mount of St. James and along Piccadilly , intimated that the world were received at some grand entertainment in Arlington Street . It was the town mansion of the noble family beneath whose roof at Beaumanoir we have more than once introduced the reader , to gain whose courtyard was at this moment the object of emulous coachmen , and to enter whose saloons was to reward the martyr-like patience of their lords and ladies . Among the fortunate who had already succeeded in bowing to their hostess were two gentlemen , who , ensconced in a good position , surveyed the scene , and made their observations on the passing guests . They were gentlemen who , to judge from their general air and the great consideration with which they were treated by those who were occasionally in their vicinity , were personages whose criticism bore authority .