Sibyl's face would light up over the descriptions of some great ball,
and her thoughts turn towards the approaching winter with double
interest.

A mist came with the twilight, and a slight chill in the air soon
brought Sibyl to the shelter of the piazza; she never trifled with her
health, her good looks were of serious importance to her, and she
never hazarded them for the sake of such sentiment as sitting in an
arbor when the dew was falling, or loitering in the moonlight when the
air was chilly.

"Good-evening, Mrs. Sheldon," said Mr. Leslie as they approached,
holding out his hand in cordial greeting; "we have come up to the
shelter of your pleasant piazza to finish our conversation in safety."

"I hope there was no danger," replied Aunt Faith with a smile; "a hot
argument, for instance."

"Oh, no; on the contrary the danger, if there was any, came from the
opposite direction. I was afraid the dew might dampen Miss
Warrington's dress."

"And her enthusiasm also," said Aunt Faith, with a shade of merriment
in her pleasant voice.

"Certainly not her enthusiasm," replied the young clergyman gravely;
"I think it would take more than dew-drops to dampen such enthusiasm
as hers." As he spoke, his eyes were turned full towards Sibyl's face,
but he met no answering glance; Sibyl was occupied in spreading out
the folds of her skirt to counteract any possible injury from the