Phyllis reminded me of a Venus whom Nature had whimsically left unfinished.
Then she had turned from Venus to Diana, and Gretchen became evolved: a Diana, slim and willowy.

A sculptor would have said that Phyllis might have been a goddess, and Gretchen a wood nymph, had not Nature suddenly changed her plans.

What I admired in Phyllis was her imperfect beauties.

What I admired in Gretchen was her beautiful perfections.
And they were so alike and yet so different.

Have you ever seen a body of fresh water, ruffled by a sudden gust of wind, the cool blue-green tint which follows?
Then you have seen the color of Gretchen's eyes.
Have you ever seen ripe wheat in a sun-shower?
Then you have seen the color of Gretchen's hair.