Cashel Byron's Profession

"Do you mean that she can never feel sure of the justice of her

title to her riches? That used to trouble me; but it no longer does

so."

"Nonsense!" said Lucian. "I alluded to the disinterestedness of your

friends."

"That does not trouble me either. Absolutely disinterested friends I

do not seek, as I should only find them among idiots or

somnambulists. As to those whose interests are base, they do not

know how to conceal their motives from me. For the rest, I am not so

unreasonable as to object to a fair account being taken of my wealth

in estimating the value of my friendship."

"Do you not believe in the existence of persons who would like you

just as well if you were poor?"

"Such persons would, merely to bring me nearer to themselves, wish

me to become poor; for which I should not thank them. I set great

store by the esteem my riches command, Lucian. It is the only

set-off I have against the envy they inspire."

"Then you would refuse to believe in the disinterestedness of any

man who--who--"

"Who wanted to marry me? On the contrary: I should be the last

person to believe that a man could prefer my money to myself. If he

wore independent, and in a fair way to keep his place in the world

without my help, I should despise him if he hesitated to approach me

for fear of misconstruction. I do not think a man is ever thoroughly

honest until he is superior to that fear. But if he had no

profession, no money, and no aim except to live at my expense, then

I should regard him as an adventurer, and treat him as one--unless I

fell in love with him."

"Unless you fell in love with him!"

"That--assuming that such things really happen--would make a

difference in my feeling, but none in my conduct. I would not marry

an adventurer under any circumstances. I could cure myself of a

misdirected passion, but not of a bad husband."

Lucian said nothing; he walked on with long, irregular steps,

lowering at the pavement as if it were a difficult problem, and

occasionally thrusting at it with his stick. At last he looked up,

and said, "Would you mind prolonging your walk a little by going round Bedford

Square with me? I have something particular to say."

She turned and complied without a word; and they had traversed one

side of the square before he spoke again, in these terms: "On second thoughts, Lydia, this is neither the proper time nor

place for an important communication. Excuse me for having taken you

out of your way for nothing."