On such occasions she artlessly surveyed the person speaking; and then there was a time for a painter.

Her eyes seemed to look at you, and past you, as you were then, into your future; and past your future into your eternity--not reading it, but gazing in an unused, unconscious way--her mind still clinging to its original thought.
This is how she was looking at Knight.
Suddenly Elfride became conscious of what she was doing, and was painfully confused.
'What were you so intent upon in me ?' he inquired.
'As far as I was thinking of you at all, I was thinking how clever you are,' she said, with a want of premeditation that was startling in its honesty and simplicity.
Feeling restless now that she had so unwittingly spoken, she arose and stepped to the window, having heard the voices of her father and Mrs.
Swancourt coming up below the terrace.

'Here they are,' she said, going out.

Knight walked out upon the lawn behind her.

She stood upon the edge of the terrace, close to the stone balustrade, and looked towards the sun, hanging over a glade just now fair as Tempe's vale, up which her father was walking.
Knight could not help looking at her.