It contained a picture of the goddess of love, decked out for "worship without end." The book now lay at his side, and he was stretched at her feet.
"If I ever am in love," he said suddenly, "it will be with a girl who must fill full the measure of my dreams." He was looking away through the pine-trees to the sky far beyond; but the soft light in his face came not from that far-off tent of blue.

He was thinking vaguely how much bluer than the sky were her eyes.
"Yes ?" Her tone was tender.
"She must be a beauty, of course." He gazed at her with that in his eyes which said, as plainly as words could have said it, "You are beautiful." But she was looking away, wondering to herself who it might be.
"I mean she must have what _I_ call beauty," he added by way of explanation.

"I don't count mere red and white beauty.

Phrony Tripper has that." This was not without intention.

Alice had spoken of Phrony's beauty one day when she saw her at the school.
"But she is very pretty," asserted the girl, "so fresh and such color!" "Oh, pretty! yes; and color--a wine-sap apple has color.