the hour of one
Oh , Cousin Monica ! you wo n't leave me ? ' So I threw my arms about her neck , clasping her very close , and we kissed one another , I crying like a frightened child -- and indeed in experience of the world I was no more . Perhaps the terror with which I anticipated the hour of one , and the disclosure of the unknown undertaking to which I had bound myself , was irrational and morbid . But , honestly , I doubt it ; my tendency has always been that of many other weak characters , to act impetuously , and afterwards to reproach myself for consequences which I have , perhaps , in reality , had little or no share in producing . It was Doctor Bryerly 's countenance and manner in alluding to a particular provision in my father 's will that instinctively awed me . I have seen faces in a nightmare that haunted me with an indescribable horror , and yet I could not say wherein lay the fascination .