two o'clock
She began to cry , but struggling with her sadness , she dashed the tears from her glistening eyes . What was there to cry about ? Philip _ wanted _ to love her , and he should , he must . It was a glorious day , and not yet more than two o'clock . Nancy had washed up the dinner things , the fire-irons were polished , the boots and spare whips were put up on , the lath , the old hats like lines of heads on a city gate were hung round the kitchen walls , the hearthrug was down , the turf was piled up on the fire , the kettle was singing from the slowrie , and the whole house was taking its afternoon nap . Kate 's bedroom looked over the orchard and across the stackyard up the glen . She could see the barley stack growing in the haggard ; the laden cart coming down the glen road with the driver three decks up over the mare , now half smothered and looking suddenly little , like a snail under the gigantic load ; and beyond the long meadow and the Bishop 's bridge , the busy fields dotted with the yellow stooks and their black shadows like a castle 's studded doors .