Confidence

several social duties that appealed to him from the further side of the Alps, but he was under the charm of the Italian spring, and he made a pr

who smoked bad tobacco in the dining-room. He remarked to himself that this was always his luck, and the remark was characteristic of the man; it was charged with the feeling of the moment, but it was not absolutely just; it was the result of an acute impression made by the particular occasion; but it failed in appreciation of a providence which had sprinkled Longueville's career with happy accidents-accidents, especially, in which his characteristic gallantry was not allowed to rust for want of exercise. He lounged, however, contentedly enough through these bright, still days of a Tuscan April, drawing much entertainment from the high picturesqueness of the things about him. Siena, a few years since, was a flawless gift of the Middle Ages to the modern imagination. No other Italian city could have been more interesting to an observer fond of reconstructing obsolete manners. This was a taste of Bernard Longueville's, who had a relish for serious literature, and at one time had made several lively excurs

d of which the parapet of the terrace would form the foreground. The thing was what painters call a subject, and he had promised himself to come back with his utensils. This morning he returned to the inn and took possession of them, and then he made his way through a labyrinth of empty streets, lying on the edge of the town, within the wall, like the superfluous folds of a garment whose wearer has shrunken with old age. He reached his little grass-grown terrace, and found it as sunny and as private as before. The old mendicant was mumbling petitions, sacred and profane, at the church door; but save for this the stillness was unbroken. The yellow sunshine warmed the brown surface of the city-wall, and lighted the hollows of the Etruscan hills. Longueville settled himself on the empty bench, and, arranging his little portable apparatus, began to ply his brushes. He worked for some time smoothly and rapidly, with an agreeable sense of the absence of obstacles. It seemed almost an interruption when, in the silent air, he heard a distant bell in the town strike noon. Shortly after this, there was another interruption. The sound of a soft footstep caused him to look up; whereupon he saw a young woman standing there and bending her eyes upon the graceful artist. A second glance assured him that she was that nice girl whom he had seen going into the other inn with her mother, and suggested that she had just emerged from the little church. He suspected, however-I hardly know why-that she had been looking at him for some moments before he perceived her. It would perhaps be impertinent to inquire what she thought of him; but Longueville, in the space of an instant, made two or three reflections upon the young lady. One of them was to the effect that she was a handsome creature, but that she looked rather bold; the burden of the other was that-yes, decidedly-she was a compatriot. She turned away almost as soon as she met his eyes; he had hardly time to raise his hat, as, after a moment's hesitation, he proceeded to do. She herself appeared to feel a certain hesitation; she glanced back at the church door, as if under the impulse to retrace her steps. She stood there a moment longer-long enough to let him see that she was a person of easy attitudes-and then she walked away slowly to the parapet of the terrace. Here she stationed herself, leaning her arms upon the high stone ledge, presenting her back to Longueville, and gazing at rural Italy. Longueville went on with his sketch, but

said, confidently, in Englis

only glanced, whereas there was observation in the eye that she bent upon Longueville. He never knew whether she had blushed; he afterward

u. Don't you think you h

uld like so much to

ssional model," s

gueville answered, laughing. "I

ilence; but something in her expression, in his feeling at the time, in the situati

on,-"a simple act of charity. Five minutes w

stepped forward. He stood there, obse

him a very odd person; but she seemed amused. Now, at any rate, she

o to my moth

mother?" the

course. I did n't

en in that little church. It is charming. She is just resting there; she is proba

s?" the youn

s he said this. He cared infinitely less for his sketch than the words appeared to imply;

er dropped an eye o

e so good as th

answered, laughing. "You shall see

wly toward the

walked to where she had stood before. Longueville made a movement to go with her, as i

s work, and she made a vague attempt to take up her position

happy tone, looking at her and plying his brush. "I

de no rejoinder, bu

pose at all I wi

irably," said

he 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 su

assed her hand into her daughter's arm, looked up at him with clear, surprised eyes; she was a charming old woman. Her eyes were

ter, as Longueville drew near. "Thi

" murmured her mother. "

upt!" exclaimed the y

g his picture to the elder lady, who took it and began to examine

ank me now," she replied. "You

ation was

tation. And you should

use it; and you stood there

ve asked me to

sorry. Besides, it would

rl looked at

uld. But what you h

Longueville. "What could I

lady, handing the thing back to Longueville. Her

should go away," this argume

le shook

lose oppo

ketched me afterw

looked at

better my memo

little, but instan

shall try to forget. I don't lik

ed again with his sketch to her companion, who had been listening to the girl's conversation with this enterprising stranger, and looking from one t

hardly dare," murmured the la

rty I have taken," Longueville added; and he be

you to give it to us,

lovely!" exclaimed her mother.

at also mak

perhaps not exactly malignant; but it was certainly ungracious. S

it worse?" he as

as certainly ready. Now, however, she

ive us your sketch

her I offered it,"

of his irritation, appeared to h

of use to the painter himself. Your justification would be that

the elder lady in a little, light, conciliating

m very inconsistent. Set it down to my este

model, disengaging her arm from h

ith a smile which seemed to express a t

," she murmured, "and if y

ard it as a

ghter walked away. Longueville thought her a delightful little person; she struck him as a sort of trans

extremel

clever," sa

nderfully

s good!" cried

ssively, while his companion, returning his salutation with a c

a while he tried to make a sketch of the old beggar-woman who sat there in a sort of palsied immobility, like a rickety statue at a church-door.