She was hatless, but heavy braids of burnished hair, the hue of ripe wheat, were twisted about her head like a coronet; her eyes were blue and star-like; her figure, in its plain print gown, was magnificent; and her lips were as crimson as the bunch of blood-red poppies she wore at her belt.
"Gilbert, who is the girl we have just passed ?" asked Anne, in a low voice.
"I didn't notice any girl," said Gilbert, who had eyes only for his bride.
"She was standing by that gate--no, don't look back.

She is still watching us.

I never saw such a beautiful face." "I don't remember seeing any very handsome girls while I was here.
There are some pretty girls up at the Glen, but I hardly think they could be called beautiful." "This girl is.

You can't have seen her, or you would remember her.
Nobody could forget her.

I never saw such a face except in pictures.
And her hair! It made me think of Browning's 'cord of gold' and 'gorgeous snake'!" "Probably she's some visitor in Four Winds--likely some one from that big summer hotel over the harbor." "She wore a white apron and she was driving geese." "She might do that for amusement.