Sorrow always softened Lydia; but tears hardened her again; she had

no patience with them.

"And the other man?" she said. "Have you heard anything of him? I

suppose he is in some hospital."

"In hospital!" repeated Mrs. Skene, checking her tears in alarm.

"Who?"

"Paradise," replied Lydia, pronouncing the name reluctantly.

"He in hospital! Why, bless your innocence, miss, I saw him

yesterday, looking as well as such an ugly brute could look--not a

mark on him, and he bragging what he would have done to Cashel if

the police hadn't come up. He's a nasty, low fighting man, so he is;

and I'm only sorry that our boy demeaned himself to strip with the

like of him. I hear that Cashel made a perfect picture of him, and

that you saw him. I suppose you were frightened, ma'am, and very

naturally, too, not being used to such sights. I have had my Ned

brought home to me in that state that I have poured brandy into his

eye, thinking it was his mouth; and even Cashel, careful as he is,

has been nearly blind for three days. It is not to be expected that

they could have all the money for nothing. Don't let it prey on your

mind, miss. If you married--I am only supposing it," said Mrs.

Skene in soothing parenthesis as she saw Lydia shrink from the

word--"if you were married to a great surgeon, as you might be

without derogation to your high rank, you'd be ready to faint if you

saw him cut off a leg or an arm, as he would have to do every day

for his livelihood; but you'd be proud of his cleverness in being

able to do it. That's how I feel with regard to Ned. I tell you the

truth, ma'am, I shouldn't like to see him in the ring no more than

the lady of an officer in the Guards would like to see her husband

in the field of battle running his sword into the poor blacks or

into the French; but as it's his profession, and people think so

highly of him for it, I make up my mind to it; and now I take quite

an interest in it, particularly as it does nobody any harm. Not that

I would have you think that Ned ever took the arm or leg off a man:

Lord forbid--or Cashel either. Oh, ma'am, I thank you kindly, and

I'm sorry you should have given yourself the trouble." This referred

to the entry of a servant with tea.




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