Curiously enough, her eyes were small--small, but of the deepest, deepest brown, and always twinkling and alight, as though she were just ready to smile or had just done smiling, one could not say which.

And nothing could have been more delightful than these sloe-brown, glinting little eyes of hers set off by her white skin and yellow hair.
She impressed one as being a very normal girl: nothing morbid about her, nothing nervous or false or overwrought.

You did not expect to find her introspective.

You felt sure that her mental life was not at all the result of thoughts and reflections germinating from within, but rather of impressions and sensations that came to her from without.
There was nothing extraordinary about Travis.

She never had her vagaries, was not moody--depressed one day and exalted the next.