He had seen beautiful and stately ladies, but none so coy or bewitching as this pretty maiden.

The more he looked at her the more he admired her.

She had no delicate patrician loveliness, no refined grace; but for glowing, shy, fresh beauty, who could equal her?
So the young heir of Earlescourt sat, pretending to enjoy the strawberries, but in reality engrossed by the charming figure before him.

She neither stirred nor spoke.

Under the boughs of the apple tree, with the sunbeams falling upon her, she made a fair picture, and his eyes were riveted upon it.
It was all very delightful, and very wrong.