"What pretty flowers," said Wärli. "Now if there is one thing I do like, it is a flower. Can you spare me one, Marie? Put one in my button-hole, do!" "You are a nuisance this afternoon," said Marie, smiling and pinning a flower on Wärli's blue coat. Just then a bell rang violently. "Those Portuguese ladies will drive me quite mad," said Marie. "They always ring just when I am enjoying myself?" "When you are enjoying yourself!" said Wärli triumphantly. "Of course," returned Marie; "I always do enjoy cleaning the oil-lamps; I always did!" "Ah, I'd forgotten the oil-lamps!" said Wärli. "And so had I!" laughed Marie. "Na, na, there goes that bell again! Won't they be angry! Won't they scold at me! Here, Wärli, give me my letter, and I'll be off." "I never told you I had any letter for you," remarked Wärli. "It was entirely your own idea. Good afternoon, Fräulein Marie." The Portuguese ladies' bell rang again, still more passionately this time; but Marie did not seem to hear nor care. She wished to be revenged on that impudent postman. She went to the top of the stairs and called after Wärli in her most coaxing tones: "Do step down one moment; I want to show you something!" "I must deliver the registered letters," said Wärli, with official haughtiness. "I have already wasted too much of my time." "Won't you waste a few more minutes on me?" pleaded Marie pathetically. "It is not often I see you now." Wärli came down again, looking very happy. "I want to show you such a beautiful photograph I've had taken," said Marie. "Ach, it is beautiful!" "You must give one to me," said Wärli eagerly. "Oh, I can't do that," replied Marie, as she opened the drawer and took out a small packet. "It was a present to me from the Polish gentleman himself. He saw me the other day here in the pantry. I was so tired, and I had fallen asleep with my broom, just as you see me here. So he made a photograph of me. He admires me very much. Isn't it nice? and isn't the Polish gentleman clever? and isn't it nice to have so much attention paid to one? Oh, there's that horrid bell again! Good afternoon, Herr Wärli. That is all I have to say to you, thank you." Wärli's feelings towards the Polish gentleman were not of the friendliest that day. CHAPTER V. THE DISAGREEABLE MAN. ROBERT ALLITSEN told Bernardine that she was not likely to be on friendly terms with the English people in the Kurhaus. "They will not care about you, and you will not care about the foreigners. So you will thus be thrown on your own resources, just as I was when I came." "I cannot say that I have any resources," Bernardine answered. "I don't feel well enough to try to do any writing, or else it would be delightful to have the uninterrupted leisure."