“Yes, I think we have finished, Princess;” and with a bow to me she put her arm on his and went away.
Elma laughed loudly enough for all to hear; and when I turned to her she met my look with a glance of studied defiance.
“You must be careful of him, Mr. Bergwyn. He is a very jealous man, passionately devoted to Gatrina and—one of the only real swordsmen in Servia.”
“Will you sit down a moment. I have something to say.”
“Shall I take dear Gatrina’s place? Do you really think I am worthy to fill it?” she asked in spiteful banter.
“No, I don’t,” I answered, brutally. I couldn’t help it in my vexation. “But I wish to speak to you alone.”
“Just like old times, isn’t it?” She laughed, as she settled herself comfortably in the chair and looked smilingly at me, as though we were about to have a chat on the terms of the most confidential friendship. As I did not speak at once, she affected nervousness and said with a pout: “You look dreadfully stern. If you are going to be disagreeable, I shall not stay. I want you to be like your old self.”
“I am going to say something that should please you.”
“At last? Oh, that will be delightful,” she exclaimed, rapturously; but her eyes were full of doubt, surprise and suspicion. “You have not said a single nice thing to me since you came.”
“But before I say it, let me request you not to make any incorrect statement as to the reasons for my coming to Belgrade.”