Sibyl crossed the hall and stood in the door-way. Her dress of soft
blue harmonized with her fair beauty, and brought out the tints of her
hair and complexion; she wore no ornaments, and the flowing drapery
floated around her devoid of any kind of trimming. "Her dress was
nothing; just a plain, blue tarleton," said one of her companions the
next day to a mutual friend. "But Sibyl herself looked lovely." This
was Sibyl's art; her dress was always subordinate to herself.

"You look like the evening star, sister," said Hugh.

"Thank you, brother. A compliment from you is precious, because rare,"
said Sibyl, smiling; "and as for you, you look like the Apollo in
Guido's _Aurora_."

"Bravo! That's a compliment worth having," said Hugh, tossing back his
golden locks. "And now that we are both gorged with compliments, let
us start for the halls of Euterpe."

"Where is Bessie?" said Aunt Faith, as Hugh rose.

"She is not going. She has a headache," answered Hugh.

"Poor child! I will run up and see her before I go."

"That is not necessary, Aunt. I think she would rather not be
disturbed," said Hugh. "Let us start; it is late."

The musicale was held at the residence of Mrs. Arlington, on the
opposite side of the avenue, but a short distance from the old stone