She was a delicate-looking girl, with a pale, conch-shell complexion, brown hair as fine as silk, and pleasant, serene, gray eyes.

She was dressed very simply in white, with a blue band across her hair, and a blue scarf and sash around throat and waist.
Her face, though showing signs of quiet strength, and of a self-confidence which was the flower of maidenly modesty and innocence, was not beautiful according to any recognized standard.

Bressant, from his intuitive perception of form and proportion, was aware of this.

The forehead was too high, the nose irregular, the mouth lacked the perfect curve, and the teeth, though white and even, were not small enough for beauty.
Nevertheless, Bressant was at once impressed with the young girl's presence.

It was as if an ethereal cloud--such as that which, shone through by white sunlight, was just floating past the window--had eddied unexpectedly into his chamber, cooling and quieting him with the freshness of its heavenly vapor.