After this she said nothing, and for several minutes he painted rapidly and in silence. He felt a certain excitement, and the movement of his thoughts kept pace with that of his brush. It was very true that she posed admirably; she was a fine creature to paint. Her prettiness inspired him, and also her audacity, as he was content to regard it for the moment. He wondered about her--who she was, and what she was--perceiving that the so-called audacity was not vulgar boldness, but the play of an original and probably interesting character. It was obvious that she was a perfect lady, but it was equally obvious that she was irregularly clever. Longueville’s little figure was a success--a charming success, he thought, as he put on the last touches. While he was doing this, his model’s companion came into view. She came out of the church, pausing a moment as she looked from her daughter to the young man in the corner of the terrace; then she walked straight over to the young girl. She was a delicate little gentlewoman, with a light, quick step. Longueville’s five minutes were up; so, leaving his place, he approached the two ladies, sketch in hand. The elder one, who had passed her hand into her daughter’s arm, looked up at him with clear, surprised eyes; she was a charming old woman. Her eyes were very pretty, and on either side of them, above a pair of fine dark brows, was a band of silvery hair, rather coquettishly arranged. “It is my portrait,” said her daughter, as Longueville drew near. “This gentleman has been sketching me.” “Sketching you, dearest?” murmured her mother. “Was n’t it rather sudden?” “Very sudden--very abrupt!” exclaimed the young girl with a laugh. “Considering all that, it ‘s very good,” said Longueville, offering his picture to the elder lady, who took it and began to examine it. “I can’t tell you how much I thank you,” he said to his model. “It ‘s very well for you to thank me now,” she replied. “You really had no right to begin.” “The temptation was so great.” “We should resist temptation. And you should have asked my leave.” “I was afraid you would refuse it; and you stood there, just in my line of vision.” “You should have asked me to get out of it.” “I should have been very sorry. Besides, it would have been extremely rude.” The young girl looked at him a moment. “Yes, I think it would. But what you have done is ruder.” “It is a hard case!” said Longueville. “What could I have done, then, decently?” “It ‘s a beautiful drawing,” murmured the elder lady, handing the thing back to Longueville. Her daughter, meanwhile, had not even glanced at it. “You might have waited till I should go away,” this argumentative young person continued. Longueville shook his head. “I never lose opportunities!” “You might have sketched me afterwards, from memory.” Longueville looked at her, smiling. “Judge how much better my memory will be now!” She also smiled a little, but instantly became serious.