She was of a good shape and stature, despite her tender years; her face was oval, delicately featured and of an ivory pallor.

Her eyes--blue as the heavens overhead--were not of the colour most approved by Firenzuola, nor was her hair of the golden brown which that arbiter commends.

Had Firenzuola seen her, it may well be that he had altered or modified his views.

She was sumptuously arrayed in a loose-sleeved camorra of grey velvet that was heavy with costly furs; above the lenza of fine linen on her head gleamed the gold thread of a jewelled net, and at her waist a girdle of surpassing richness, all set with gems, glowed like a thing of fire in the bright sunshine.
She took a deep breath of the sharp, invigorating air, then looked about her, and espying me in conversation with Giacopo she approached us across the gleaming snow.
"Is this," she inquired, and her sweet, melodious voice was a perfect match to the graceful charm of her whole presence, "the traveller who so kindly consented to fill for us the office of a guide ?" Giacopo answered briefly that I was that man.
"I am in your debt, sir," she protested, with an odd earnestness.

"You do not know how great a service you have rendered me.