She saw the Seigneur coming across the street.

Suddenly she flushed deeply, for there came to her mind the song the quack-doctor sang: "Voila, the day has come When Rosette leaves her home! With fear she walks in the sun, For Raoul is ninety year, And she not twenty-one." As M.Rossignol's figure darkened the doorway, she pretended to be busy behind the wicket, and not to see him.

He was not sure, but he thought it quite possible that she had seen him coming, and he put her embarrassment down to shyness.

Naturally the poor child was not given the chance every day to receive an offer of marriage from a seigneur.
He had made up his mind that she would be sure to accept him if he asked her a second time.
"Ah, Ma'm'selle Rosalie," he said gaily, "what have you to say that you should not come before a magistrate at once ?" "Nothing, if Monsieur Rossignol is to be the magistrate," she replied, with forced lightness.
"Good!" He looked at her quizzically through his gold-handled glass.

"I can't frighten you, I see.