A Little Girl
Sitting on a grassy grave beneath one of the windows of the church was a little girl. With her head bent back, she was gazing up the sky and singing while one of her little hands was pointing to a tiny cloud that hovered like a golden feature above her head. The sun, which suddenly became very bright, shining on her glossy hairs, gave to them a metallic luster, and it was difficult to say what was the color, dark bronze or black. So completely absorbed was she, and watching the cloud to which her strange song or incantation seemed addressed that she did not observe me when I rose and went towards her. Over her head high up in the blue, a lark was soaring towards the same gauzing cloud was singing as a _____ of rivalry. As I slowly approached the child, I can see by her forehead, which in the sunshine seemed like a globe of pearl, especially by her complexion, she was uncommonly lovely. Her eyes, which one moment seemed blue-gray and another violet, were shaded by long black lashes, curving backward in the most peculiar way, and this matched in hue with her eyebrows, and _______ were tossed about her tender throat were quivering in the sunlight. All these I did not take in at once, for at first I could not see nothing but her quivering and glittering changeful eyes turned up to my face. Gradually the other features, especially the sensitive full little month grew upon me as I stood silently gazing. She seemed to me a more perfect beauty than have ever come to me in my loveliest dream of beauty. Yet it was not her beauty so much as the looks she gave me that fascinated me, melted me.
