“It does not follow that you should go at once without a word,” said Lydia, betraying nervousness for the first time during the interview.
“Oh, that’s all rot,” said Cashel. “I may be a fool while my eyes are shut, but I’m sensible enough when they’re open. I have no business here. I wish to the Lord I had stayed in Australia.”
“Perhaps it would have been better,” said Lydia, troubled. “But since we have met, it is useless to deplore it; and—Let me remind you of one thing. You have pointed out to me that I have made friends of men whose pursuits are no better than yours. I do not wholly admit that; but there is one respect in which they are on the same footing as you. They are all, as far as worldly gear is concerned, much poorer than I. Many of them, I fear, are much poorer than you are.”
Cashel looked up quickly with returning hope; but it lasted only a moment. He shook his head dejectedly.
“I am at least grateful to you,” she continued, “because you have sought me for my own sake, knowing nothing of my wealth.”
“I should think not,” groaned Cashel. “Your wealth may be a very fine thing for the other fellows; and I’m glad you have it, for your own sake. But it’s a settler for me. It’s knocked me out of time, so it has. I sha’n’t come up again; and the sooner the sponge is chucked up in my corner, the better. So good-bye.”
“Good-bye,” said Lydia, almost as pale as he had now become, “since you will have it so.”
“Since the devil will have it so,” said Cashel, ruefully. “It’s no use wishing to have it any other way. The luck is against me. I hope, Miss Carew, that you’ll excuse me for making such an ass of myself. It’s all my blessed innocence; I never was taught any better.”
“I have no quarrel with you except on the old score of hiding the truth from me; and that I forgive you—as far as the evil of it affects me. As for your declaration of attachment to me personally, I have received many similar ones that have flattered me less. But there are certain scruples between us. You will not court a woman a hundred-fold richer than yourself; and I will not entertain a prize-fighter. My wealth frightens every man who is not a knave; and your profession frightens every woman who is not a fury.”
“Then you—Just tell me this,” said Cashel, eagerly. “Suppose I were a rich swell, and were not a—”