The face was that of a woman.

She stood by an old and stately-looking man with a white beard, the last of a line of worshippers next to the aisle along which the procession passed, and I saw that she was young and fair.
Down the long, resounding aisle the procession marched slowly.

Now I was nearer to the face, and perceived that it was lovely as some rich-hued flower.

The large eyes were dark and soft as a deer's.

The complexion, too, was somewhat dark, as though the sun had kissed it.