Eight o'clock
After the striking of the quarter , the church bell began to ring , with a gentle , yet insistent note which gradually filled the hollows of the village , and echoed along the side of the down . Once or twice the sound was effaced by the rush and roar of a distant train ; and once the call of an owl from a wood , a call melancholy and prolonged , was raised as though in rivalry . But the bell held Diana 's strained ear throughout its course , till its mild clangor passed into the deeper note of the clock striking the hour , and then all sounds alike died into a profound yet listening silence . `` Eight o'clock ! That was for early service , '' she thought ; and there flashed into her mind an image of the old parish church , dimly lit for the Christmas Eucharist , its walls and pillars decorated with ivy and holly , yet austere and cold through all its adornings , with its bare walls and pale windows . She shivered a little , for her youth had been accustomed to churches all color and lights and furnishings -- churches of another type and faith . But instantly some warm leaping instinct met the shrinking , and overpowered it .