Cashel Byron's Profession

"And you think we are really like one another?" said Mrs. Byron, not

heeding him. "Yes; I think we are. There is a certain--Are you

married, Cashel?" with sudden mistrust.

"Ha! ha! ha!" shouted Cashel. "No; but I hope to be, some day," he

added, venturing to glance again at Lydia, who was, however,

attentively observing Mrs. Byron.

"Well, tell me everything about yourself. What are you? Now, I do

hope, Cashel, that you have not gone upon the stage."

"The stage!" said Cashel, contemptuously. "Do I look like it?"

"You certainly do not," said Mrs. Byron, whimsically--"although you

have a certain odious professional air, too. What did you do when

you ran away so scandalously from that stupid school in the north?

How do you earn your living? Or DO you earn it?"

"I suppose I do, unless I am fed by ravens, as Elijah was. What do

you think I was best fitted for by my education and bringing up?

Sweep a crossing, perhaps! When I ran away from Panley, I went to

sea."

"A sailor, of all things! You don't look like one. And pray, what

rank have you attained in your profession?"

"The front rank. The top of the tree," said Cashel, shortly.

"Mr. Byron is not at present following the profession of a sailor;

nor has he done so for many years," said Lydia.

Cashel looked at her, half in appeal, half in remonstrance.

"Something very different, indeed," pursued Lydia, with quiet

obstinacy. "And something very startling."

"CAN'T you shut up?" exclaimed Cashel. "I should have expected more

sense from you. What's the use of setting her on to make a fuss and

put me in a rage? I'll go away if you don't stop."

"What is the matter?" said Mrs. Byron. "Have you been doing anything

disgraceful, Cashel?"

"There she goes. I told you so. I keep a gymnasium, that's all.

There's nothing disgraceful in that, I hope."

"A gymnasium?" repeated Mrs. Byron, with imperious disgust. "What

nonsense! You must give up everything of that kind, Cashel. It is

very silly, and very low. You were too ridiculously proud, of

course, to come to me for the means of keeping yourself in a proper

position. I suppose I shall have to provide you with--"

"If I ever take a penny from you, may I--" Cashel caught Lydia's

anxious look, and checked himself. He paused and got away a step, a

cunning smile flickering on his lips. "No," he said; "it's just

playing into your hands to lose temper with you. You think you know

me, and you want to force the fighting. Well, we'll see. Make me

angry now if you can."