But he knew at once , beyond all possibility of question or doubt , that he had never seen or imagined anything so exquisite as this girl of the orchard . Her loveliness was so perfect that his breath almost went from him in his first delight of it . Her face was oval , marked in every cameo-like line and feature with that expression of absolute , flawless purity , found in the angels and Madonnas of old paintings , a purity that held in it no faintest strain of earthliness . Her head was bare , and her thick , jet-black hair was parted above her forehead and hung in two heavy lustrous braids over her shoulders . Her eyes were of such a blue as Eric had never seen in eyes before , the tint of the sea in the still , calm light that follows after a fine sunset ; they were as luminous as the stars that came out over Lindsay Harbour in the afterglow , and were fringed about with very long , soot-black lashes , and arched over by most delicately pencilled dark eyebrows . Her skin was as fine and purely tinted as the heart of a white rose . The collarless dress of pale blue print she wore revealed her smooth , slender throat ; her sleeves were rolled up above her elbows and the hand which guided the bow of her violin was perhaps the most beautiful thing about her , perfect in shape and texture , firm and white , with rosy-nailed taper fingers . One long , drooping plume of lilac blossom lightly touched her hair and cast a wavering shadow over the flower-like face beneath it . There was something very child-like about her , and yet at least eighteen sweet years must have gone to the making of her . She seemed to be playing half unconsciously , as if her thoughts were far away in some fair dreamland of the skies . But presently she looked away from `` the bourne of sunset , '' and her lovely eyes fell on Eric , standing motionless before her in the shadow of the apple tree . The sudden change that swept over her was startling . She sprang to her feet , the music breaking in mid-strain and the bow slipping from her hand to the grass . Every hint of colour fled from her face and she trembled like one of the wind-stirred June lilies . `` I beg your pardon , '' said Eric hastily . `` I am sorry that I have alarmed you . But your music was so beautiful that I did not remember you were not aware of my presence here . Please forgive me . '' He stopped in dismay , for he suddenly realized that the expression on the girl 's face was one of terror -- not merely the startled alarm of a shy , childlike creature who had thought herself alone , but absolute terror . It was betrayed in her blanched and quivering lips and in the widely distended blue eyes that stared back into his with the expression of some trapped wild thing .
It hurt him that any woman should look at him in such a fashion , XXXXX him who had always held womanhood in such reverence .
about above as at beneath for from into over with