"Let us proceed: sirietsi, I loved."

"You never loved anyone but yourself," said Belle; "and what's more----"

"Sirietsits, I will love," said I; "sirietsies, thou wilt love."

"Never one so thoroughly heartless."

"I tell you what, Belle--you are becoming intolerable. But we will
change the verb. You would hardly believe, Belle," said I, "that the
Armenian is in some respects closely connected with the Irish, but so it
is. For example: that word parghatsoutsaniem is evidently derived from
the same root as fear-gaim, which, in Irish, is as much as to say, 'I
vex.'"

"You do, indeed," said Belle, sobbing.

"But how do you account for it?"

"Oh, man, man!" cried Belle, bursting into tears, "for what purpose do
you ask a poor ignorant girl such a question, unless it be to vex and
irritate her? If you wish to display your learning, do so to the wise
and instructed, and not to me, who can scarcely read or write."

"I am sorry to see you take on so, dear Belle," said I. "I had no idea
of making you cry. Come, I beg your pardon; what more can I do? Come,
cheer up, Belle. You were talking of parting; don't let us part, but
depart, and that together."

"Our ways lie different," said Belle.