noon
Let us look into two very different houses on the morning of January 6th . Mr Rothwell 's place is called `` The Firs , '' from a belt of those trees which shelter the premises on the north . All is activity at `` The Firs '' on Twelfth-day morning . It is just noon , and Mrs Rothwell and her daughters are assembled in the drawing-room making elaborate preparations for the evening with holly , and artificial flowers and mottoes , and various cunning and beautiful devices . On a little table by the grand piano stands a tray with a decanter of sherry , a glass jug filled -LRB- and likely to remain so -RRB- with water , and a few biscuits . Mrs Rothwell is lying back in an elegant easy-chair , looking flushed and languid . Her three daughters , Jane , Florence , and Alice , are standing near her , all looking rather weary .