Cashel Byron's Profession

"My dearest child, what are you thinking or talking about? Nothing

can be clearer than your title."

"Well," said Cashel, blushing, "a lot of people used to make out

that you weren't married at all."

"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Byron, indignantly. "Oh, they DARE not say

so! Impossible. Why did you not tell me at once?"

"I didn't think about it," said Cashel, hastily excusing himself. "I

was too young to care. It doesn't matter now. My father is dead,

isn't he?"

"He died when you were a baby. You have often made me angry with

you, poor little innocent, by reminding me of him. Do not talk of

him to me."

"Not if you don't wish. Just one thing, though, mamma. Was he a

gentleman?"

"Of course. What a question!"

"Then I am as good as any of the swells that think themselves her

equals? She has a cousin in the government office; a fellow who

gives out that he is the home secretary, and most likely sits in a

big chair in a hall and cheeks the public. Am I as good as he is?"

"You are perfectly well connected by your mother's side, Cashel. The

Byrons are only commoners; but even they are one of the oldest

county families in England."

Cashel began to show signs of excitement. "How much a year are they

worth?" he demanded.

"I do not know how much they are worth now. Your father was always

in difficulties, and so was his father. But Bingley is a miser. Five

thousand a year, perhaps."

"That's an independence. That's enough. She said she couldn't expect

a man to be so thunderingly rich as she is."

"Indeed? Then you have discussed the question with her?"

Cashel was about to speak, when a servant entered to say that Miss

Carew was in the library, and begged that they would come to her as

soon as they were quite disengaged. When the maid withdrew he said,

eagerly, "I wish you'd go home, mamma, and let me catch her in the library by

herself. Tell me where you live, and I'll come in the evening and

tell you all about it. That is, if you have no objection."

"What objection could I possibly have, dearest one? Are you sure

that you are not spoiling your chance by too much haste? She has no

occasion to hurry, Cashel, and she knows it."

"I am dead certain that now is my time or never. I always know by

instinct when to go in and finish. Here's your mantle."