one o'clock in the morning
`` They were at the same college , and both belonged to what they call ` the wonderful old class of seventy-nine , ' and there 's nothing in the world papa would n't do for Mr. Collenquest or Mr. Collenquest for papa . I had never seen him before and had rather a wild idea of him from the caricatures in the paper -- you know the kind -- with dollar-signs all over his clothes and one of his feet on the neck of Honest Toil . Well , he was n't like that a bit -- in fact , he was more like a bishop than anything else and the only thing he ever put his foot on was a chair when he and papa would sit up half the night talking about the wonderful old class of seventy-nine . Papa is rather a quiet man ordinarily , but that week it seemed as though he 'd never stop laughing ; and I 'd wake up at one o'clock in the morning and hear them still at it . Of course , they had long serious talks , too , and Mr. Collenquest was never so like a bishop as when the conversation turned on stocks and Wall Street . When he boomed out things like ` the increasing tendency of associated capital in this country , ' or ` the admitted financial emancipation of the Middle West , ' -- you felt somehow you were a better girl for having listened to him . What he seemed to like best -- besides sitting up all night till papa was a wreck -- was to take walks .