Louis Aston Knight paintings

Louis Aston Knight paintings
Leon Bazile Perrault paintings
the gate, and looked steadily at them, with an expression that hardly attained to interest, but did not descend to curiosity. It seemed to Anne, for a fleeting moment, that there was even a veiled hint of hostility in it. But it was the girl's beauty which made Anne give a little gasp--a beauty so marked that it must have attracted attention anywhere. She was hatless, but heavy braids of burnished hair, the hue of ripe wheat, were twisted about her head like a coronet; her eyes were blue and star-like; her figure, in its plain print gown, was magnificent; and her lips were as crimson as the bunch of blood-red poppies she wore at her belt.
"Gilbert, who is the girl we have just passed?" asked Anne, in a low voice.
"I didn't notice any girl," said Gilbert, who had eyes only for his bride.
"She was standing by that gate--no, don't look back. She is still watching us. I never saw such a beautiful face."
"I don't remember seeing any very handsome girls while I was here. There are some pretty girls up at the Glen, but I hardly think they could be called beautiful."