Cashel Byron's Profession

"Yes; I'm fond of you in a sort of way."

"Well, then," he said, uneasily, "won't you marry me? I'm not such a

fool as you think; and you'll like me better after a while."

Lydia became very pale. "Have you considered," she said, "that

henceforth you will be an idle man, and that I shall always be a

busy woman, preoccupied with the work that may seem very dull to

you?"

"I won't be idle. There's lots of things I can do besides boxing.

We'll get on together, never fear. People that are fond of one

another never have any difficulty; and people that hate each other

never have any comfort. I'll be on the lookout to make you happy.

You needn't fear my interrupting your Latin and Greek: I won't

expect you to give up your whole life to me. Why should I? There's

reason in everything. So long as you are mine, and nobody else's,

I'll be content. And I'll be yours and nobody else's. What's the use

of supposing half a dozen accidents that may never happen? Let's

sign reasonable articles, and then take our chance. You have too

much good-nature ever to be nasty."

"It would be a hard bargain," she said, doubtfully; "for you would

have to give up your occupation; and I should give up nothing but my

unfruitful liberty."

"I will swear never to fight again; and you needn't swear anything.

If that is not an easy bargain, I don't know what is."

"Easy for me, yes. But for you?"

"Never mind me. You do whatever you like; and I'll do whatever you

like. You have a conscience; so I know that whatever you like will

be the best thing. I have the most science; but you have the most

sense. Come!"

Lydia looked around, as if for a means of escape. Cashel waited

anxiously. There was a long pause.

"It can't be," he said, pathetically, "that you are afraid of me

because I was a prize-fighter."

"Afraid of you! No: I am afraid of myself; afraid of the future;

afraid FOR you. But my mind is already made up on this subject. When

I brought about this meeting between you and your mother I

determined to marry you if you asked me again."

She stood up, quietly, and waited. The rough hardihood of the ring

fell from him like a garment: he blushed deeply, and did not know

what to do. Nor did she; but without willing it she came a step

closer to him, and turned up her face towards his. He, nearly blind

with confusion, put his arms about her and kissed her. Suddenly she

broke loose from his arms, seized the lapels of his coat tightly in

her hands, and leaned back until she nearly hung from him with all

her weight.