The Three of Hearts

At length Donald said, abruptly, "You haven't asked me anything about
Miss Treville, Smiles."

There was a perceptible pause in the girl's dish-drying, and the simple
mountain ballad that she was happily humming broke off in the middle of
a minor cadence. The man regarded her with curiosity as she slowly
approached him, saying, "I didn't mean to be so forgetful, doctor, and
I'm plumb ashamed. I should be pleased to have you tell me all about
her."

"Why, I don't know as there is much to tell," he replied, a little
nonplussed by the unexpectedness of the implied question. "Of course she
is very nice and very lovely, as I wrote you."

"What does she look like?"

"I am afraid that I cannot hope to give a very accurate description of
her, Rose. It would perhaps be easier if you had ever visited an art
museum, and seen statues of some of the Greek goddesses, for people say
that she looks like one of them. You see she is quite tall for a
woman--almost as tall as I am myself--and ... well, her form and the way
she carries herself is queenly. Then she has hair darker than yours,
and ... her eyes are gray, I guess, although, come to think of it, I
never noticed particularly. She isn't pretty like a wild-flower, but
very beautiful, more like a stately cultivated bloom. When you have seen
conservatory blossoms you will know better what I mean. She is very
serious, too. Even when she is quite happy it is sometimes a bit hard to
tell it, for she seldom really smiles.... I wish she would," he added,
as though to himself, "she has wonderful teeth."