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.