In her own contemplations Sisse had failed to realize the sound of another's footsteps. Likely another reason a chaperon would actually be a good thing in the days to come. Instead the words startled her and Sisse's eyes flew open before she mastered her features and turned to the man that had come up beside the bench she was perched on.

"Oh, Mr. Bixby, good evening." She hadn't known he was attending the soirée, indeed, she hadn't even spotted him inside. Had she missed him? or had he only just arrived? She'd have to ask Calla when she went back inside. "I am. Thank you for asking." She belatedly demurred. What did he see her as? Some foolish girl sitting out in the snow? A creamy cashmere shawl draped around a gown much too old for her? Or a lady mature and gentle, poised anything an evening might throw at her?

"It was just a bit warm inside." She found herself explaining. Despite their letters, despite having seen him several times before, Sisse was unsure what she should say. The last time they had actually spoken she had drastically overstepped, proved herself to be a meddling little sister like the one Matthew always claimed she was. She should say something more, should invite him to join her, or to escort her back instead, but she wanted to seem mature, lady like, so she held her tongue.