sitting beside it on a three-legged stool. The little terrace had an
old polished parapet, about as high as a man's breast, above which was
a view of strange, sad-colored hills. Outside, to the left, the wall
of the town made an outward bend, and exposed its rugged and rusty
complexion. There was a smooth stone bench set into the wall of the
church, on which Longueville had rested for an hour, observing the
composition of the little picture of which I have indicated the
elements, and 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