"I am much obliged to you. Don't you think you have looked at me
enough?"

"By no means. I should like so much to finish my drawing."

"I am not a professional model," said the young lady.

"No. That 's my difficulty," Longueville answered, laughing. "I can't
propose to remunerate you."

The young lady seemed to think this joke in indifferent taste. She
turned away in silence; but something in her expression, in his feeling
at the time, in the situation, incited Longueville to higher play. He
felt a lively need of carrying his point.

"You see it will be pure kindness," he went on,--"a simple act of
charity. Five minutes will be enough. Treat me as an Italian beggar."

She had laid down his sketch and had stepped forward. He stood there,
obsequious, clasping his hands and smiling.

His interruptress stopped and looked at him again, as if she thought him
a very odd person; but she seemed amused. Now, at any rate, she was not
frightened. She seemed even disposed to provoke him a little.

"I wish to go to my mother," she said.

"Where is your mother?" the young man asked.

"In the church, of course. I did n't come here alone!"