FLIRTATION
"Now, that is truly unkind," said Mr. Bouché, with an injured air; "and therefore not like you, Miss Rose. And people should always speak in character. I am surprised at you. Do you believe that I never think of anybody but myself?"
"Oh, I suppose when you are speaking to me, you must be thinking of me a little," said Rose, a faint tinge coming into her cheeks as she made the admission. "Look at that eagle flying across the river."
"Let him fly—" said Bouché. "You really suppose I think of you 'a little,' then? When it's week days and Sundays, Saturdays and common days. When the reveille gun has grown sweet to my ear, because——"
"Now hush!" Rose interrupted him. "That is a good place to stop. Nothing ever yet made the reveille gun sound sweet to a cadet."
"Other cadets."
"Well, you are just another cadet," said Rose.
Bouché burst into a laugh, in spite of his efforts to look tragic.
"There," he said; "she's making fun of me. It's all up. I am only 'just another cadet.' One more in her train. Only so many additional bell buttons, and a pair of chevrons thrown in."
"Who is the professor of nonsense here?" Rose demanded. "I never saw such proficients as you cadets are, in all my life. Have you had forty pages to learn? and are you trying them off on me? Very well recited, Mr. Bouché."