'You are more intent on your own flirtations than my failure—a failure perhaps caused by yourself.'
'Who can I flirt with here?'
'You know best,' replied Robert, sulkily.
'Really, Robert, you are very unpleasant!' exclaimed the girl, tears almost starting to her eyes, though there was a provoking twinkle in their hazel depths, nevertheless.
'Now perhaps I am; but how long do you think I am going to stand this sort of thing?'
'What sort of thing?'
'The dangling after you of that English fool who has just left.'
'This is going from bad to worse, Robert,' replied Ellinor, with a pout on her beautiful lip. 'It is being downright rude, and national reflections are in the worst possible taste.'
'You have not been treating me well for some time past, Ellinor; you seem to grudge every moment you give me, and the little time you do spend with me, you seem no longer your old pleasant and hopeful self, but abstracted and distraite.'
'You are always worrying me,' retorted the girl, 'and hinting of broken promises when I have never made any.'