The first breath of autumn wind was sweeping down the road to meet her.

All about the first sparks of the great autumnal fire of colour were kindling.

In the nearer wood she noticed stray boughs of yellow or pink foliage displayed hanging over the dark tops of young spruce trees, or waving against the blue of the unclouded sky.

It was an air to make the heavy heart jocund in spite of itself, and the sweet influences of this blithe evening in the pasture field were not lost upon Sophia, although she had not the spirit now to wish mischievously, as before, that Mrs.and Miss Bennett, or some of their friends, would pass to see her carry the milk in daylight.

It was a happy pride that had been at the root of her defiance of public opinion, and her pride was depressed now, smarting under the sharp renewal of the conviction that her sisters were naughty and silly, and that their present training was largely to blame.
The Bennetts did not come by, neither did Mrs.Brown's carriage pass, nor a brake from the hotel.