"Rhymer?" repeated he. "I see you have been talking with Sir Percival."
"To be sure," said Bessie. "So pleasant and witty a gentleman is worthy of attention."
Moore sighed, and drawing a chair nearer to the desk sat down and crossed his legs comfortably.
"See here, Bessie," he said in his most persuasive tones, "why should we quarrel in this foolish fashion?"
The girl laughed in rather an embarrassed way and shifted a little on the chair.
"If there is some other fashion in which you would prefer to quarrel, perhaps it will be as acceptable as this," she replied, lightly.
"Will you never be serious?" demanded the poet.
"Why should I be serious, sir?"
"To please me, if for no other reason."
"Ah, but why should I wish to please you, Mr. Moore?"