"Still, I am glad that I have spoken.

Norman, will you tell me what your ideal of woman is like, that I may know her when I see her ?" "Nay," he objected, gently, "let us talk of something else." But she persisted.
"Tell me," she urged, "that I may know in what she differs from me." "I do not know that I can tell you," he replied.

"I have not thought much of the matter." "But if any one asked you to describe your ideal of what a woman should be, you could do it," she pursued.
"Perhaps so, but at best it would be but an imperfect sketch.

She must be young, fair, gentle, pure, tender of heart, noble in soul, with a kind of shy, sweet grace; frank, yet not outspoken; free from all affectation, yet with nothing unwomanly; a mixture of child and woman.
If I love an ideal, it is something like that." "And she must be fair, like all the ladies Arleigh, with eyes like the hyacinth, and hair tinged with gold, I suppose, Norman ?" "Yes; I saw a picture once in Borne that realized my notion of true womanly loveliness.

It was a very fair face, with something of the innocent wonder of a child mixed with the dawning love and passion of noblest womanhood." "You admire an _ingenue_.