It was cold out. Sisse's breathe misted in the air as she hurried through the alleyway. She'd agreed to meet Calla in the warmth of the greenhouses at the shop once she had finished her Head Girl duties and was running late. Her nose was freezing in this cold and her mittened hands were shoved into the pockets of her wool cloak. The snow was beautiful in the winter, but she had always despised the cold that come with it. Huddling in her cloak as she made her way quickly down the alleyway she almost ran into someone before she had even realized that someone was there. She had been so intent on the warmth of her destination that she would have run into them if the man hadn't stepped out of the way at the very last moment.

Her eyes glanced up to see Mr. Bixby and her chest tightened, constricting beneath her corset. The last time she had seen Mr. Bixby she had been pulled from her childish daydreams into the harsh reality of life. She hadn't dared right him since that night. It now seemed such a childish, foolish thing to do. He must have laughed at each of her letters she had sent before. She, thinking her words so weighted with wisdom and kindness would endear her to him, him snorting at her presumptions. It was better to view the world as it really was, Sisse was learning. Part of her hated that she was learning that, she did have to be practical, she didn't have a mother to do that for her like Calla and Maddie did. She couldn't be the foolish daydreaming girl she had once been.

That did not mean, however, that she could ignore Mr. Bixby. No, he'd likely think she was throwing some sort of girlish temper tantrum and take her silence as sullenness instead of haughtiness or indifference. So she slowed her pace and gave him a polite smile. "Good morning Mr. Bixby." She greeted him with a small bow of the head, priding herself on how mature she looked and seemed - at least that was how she felt she presented herself. Thankfully he didn't know her well enough, she hoped, to realize that the polite words were lacking the true warmth and enthusiasm she would have given him previously. They were imparted as acquittances at a ball, no chilliness in them, but no youthful exuberance either.