Cashel Byron's Profession

Cashel ceased. As he sat eying her wistfully, Lydia, who had been

perfectly still, said musingly, "Strange! that I should be so much more prejudiced than I knew. What

will you think of me when I tell you that your profession does not

seem half so shocking now that I know you to be the son of an

artist, and not a journeyman butcher or a laborer, as my cousin told

me."

"What!" exclaimed Cashel. "That lantern-jawed fellow told you I was

a butcher!"

"I did not mean to betray him; but, as I have already said, I am bad

at keeping secrets. Mr. Lucian Webber is my cousin and friend, and

has done me many services. May I rest assured that he has nothing to

fear from you?"

"He has no right to tell lies about me. He is sweet on you, too: I

twigged that at Wiltstoken. I have a good mind to let him know

whether I am a butcher or not."

"He did not say so. What he told me of you, as far as it went, is

exactly confirmed by what you have said yourself. But I happened to

ask him to what class men of your calling usually belonged; and he

said that they were laborers, butchers, and so forth. Do you resent

that?"

"I see plainly enough that you won't let me resent it. I should like

to know what else he said of me. But he was right enough about the

butchers. There are all sorts of blackguards in the ring: there's no

use in denying it. Since it's been made illegal, decent men won't go

into it. But, all the same, it's not the fighting men, but the

betting men, that bring discredit on it. I wish your cousin had held

his confounded tongue."

"I wish you had forestalled him by telling me the truth," "I wish I had, now. But what's the use of wishing? I didn't dare run

the chance of losing you. See how soon you forbade me the house when

you did find out."

"It made little difference," said Lydia, gravely.

"You were always friendly to me," said Cashel, plaintively.

"More so than you were to me. You should not have deceived me. And

now I think we had better part. I am glad to know your history; and

I admit that when you embraced your profession you made perhaps the

best choice that society offered you. I do not blame you."