How pretty she was, and how sweet she was! I wished she would speak.

But evidently she was absorbed in her own thoughts, her own young-girl dreams, and found a dearer pleasure in silence.

But she was not dreaming sleepy dreams--no, she was awake, alive, alert, she could not sit still a moment.

She was an enchanting study.

Her gown was of a soft white silky stuff that clung to her round young figure like a fish's skin, and it was rippled over with the gracefulest little fringy films of lace; she had deep, tender eyes, with long, curved lashes; and she had peachy cheeks, and a dimpled chin, and such a dear little rosebud of a mouth; and she was so dovelike, so pure, and so gracious, so sweet and so bewitching.