"I too am fond of old-fashioned gardens, Miss Darrell," said Mr. Leslie. "My mother had one, not so large as this, but resembling it in general arrangement. I remember we had a little patch of trailing arbutus; it grew wild, and I can distinctly recall its perfume as the snow melted. I have never seen it in the West." "No, it does not grow here," replied Aunt Faith; "our climate is too warm for it." "There is a great difference between the climate of the lake country and that of New England," said Mr. Leslie; "there is so little snow here." "Snow!" exclaimed Bessie. "I scarcely know what snow is; and as for stories of drifts over the fences, and tunnels cut through them, I can scarcely believe anything of the kind. They are as much like legends to me as the fairy tale of little Kay and the Robber Maiden. Once at Featherton Hall the eastern girls were talking about sleigh-riding, and I told them that snow was so scarce in Westerton that when a few snow-flakes actually fell, they were immediately fenced in and guarded by the police, and then the whole population assembled in sleighs, cutters, and pungs, to ride over them in alphabetical order. Of course, as aunt's name began with S, there was not much left of the snow-flakes when our turn came." "You ridiculous child!" said Aunt Faith, laughing, "how can you invent such exaggerations?" "Oh, Bessie can invent anything!" said Hugh, coming out from the sitting-room; "if she had charge of even the Patent-Office Reports, she would gild them into veritable romances." Later in the evening, Graham Marr came up the garden walk. "Good-evening, Mrs. Sheldon!" he said; "is Miss Warrington at home?" "Yes; she is in the parlor," said Aunt Faith. "Will you go in, Mr. Marr?" "Thank you, yes. I came especially to see her," replied Graham, taking off his straw hat, and passing through the group on the piazza. "Excuse me, Miss Darrell. Is that you, Hugh? Ah!--Mr. Leslie, I believe. I did not observe you in the darkness. I hope you experienced no ill feeling after your exposure yesterday?" "None at all, Mr. Marr. And you?" "I took cold, as I expected; but, so far, my head has given me no severe pain," said Graham, passing on into the parlor. "Is Mr. Marr subject to pain in his head?" inquired Mr. Leslie, as Graham disappeared. "Chronic inflammation of the brain, produced by intense study and seething, poetical thoughts," said Hugh, in a dramatic whisper. Soon afterwards, Mr. Leslie rose to take leave. "I feel very tired, so I will say good-night," he said. "I will let you know the condition of the children some time to-morrow, Mrs. Sheldon." "Thank you. If it is quite convenient I shall be glad to know," replied Aunt Faith. Graham Marr stayed until a late hour, so late that Bessie and Hugh had gone upstairs when he took leave, and Sibyl, coming in to the sitting-room, found Aunt Faith alone. "You look tired, my dear," said the elder lady kindly.