Her little face wore an expression seldom seen except on a few faces of those who have but lately come into this world, or those who are about to go from it.

The hair that just gilded the pink head I was allowed to kiss was one shade paler than that which made a great aureole on the pillow about the pale face of my "dear, pretty" mother.
Years afterwards--in Belgium--I bought an old mediaeval painting of a Madonna.

That Madonna had a stiffness, a deadly pallor, a thinness of face incompatible with strict beauty.

But on the thin lips there was a smile for which no word is lovely enough; and in the eyes was a pure and far-seeing look, hardly to be imagined except by one who painted (like Fra Angelico) upon his knees.

The background (like that of many religious paintings of the date) was gilt.