Three o'clock
She had come upstairs ostensibly to rest , but in reality she was far too excited to settle down even to read , and could only wander about the room inventing one little duty after another , and weaving endless day-dreams . In a corner of the room stood her travelling-box , a convenient receptacle into which to put the new purchases as they arrived from the shops . The travelling dress , the piles of cool garments for summer wear lay neatly packed away , looking fresh and dainty enough to have charmed any girl 's heart , but this afternoon Sylvia had no thought for the future ; every hope and ambition was centred on the events of the next few hours . Three o'clock ! How slowly the time passed ! Four , five , six , seven , eight , nine -- six hours still to while away before she would drive from the door with Pixie by her side , and Jack _ vis-a-vis _ , leaning forward to look her over , and exclaim in admiration at her fine feathers . Sylvia could almost imagine that she heard him speak , and saw the sudden softening of the handsome eyes , and for once in her life she was inclined to rejoice that Bridgie was again staying at Park Lane , since Pixie and Pat would be so much engrossed in their own discussions as to ensure a virtual _ tete-a-tete _ for their companions .