"Oh, I am not defending the Prince of Graustark. He behaved abominably, rushing into print as you say. Extremely bad taste, I should call it."
Robin's ears burned. He could not defend himself. There was nothing left for him to do but to say that it "served him jolly well right, the way Miss Blithers came back at him."
"Still," she said, "I would be willing to make a small wager that the well-advertised match comes off in spite of all the denials. Given a determined father, an ambitious mother, a purse-filled daughter and an empty-pursed nobleman, and I don't see how the inevitable can be avoided."
His face was flaming. It was with difficulty that he restrained the impulse to put her right in the matter without further ado.
"Are you sure that the Prince is so empty of purse as all that?" he managed to say, without betraying himself irretrievably.
"There doesn't seem to be any doubt that he borrowed extensively of Mr. Blithers," she said scornfully. "He is under some obligations to his would-be-father-in-law, I submit, now isn't he?"
"I suppose so, Miss Guile," he admitted uncomfortably.
"And therefore owes him something more than a card in the newspapers, don't you think?"
"Really, Miss Guile, I—I—"
"I beg your pardon. The Prince's affairs are of no importance to you, so why should I expect you to stand up for him?"