He looked puzzled. Concluding, after consideration, that she had referred to his stumble, he said,
“Thank you: I didn’t hurt myself.”
“Lord Worthington has been telling us about you,” said Lydia. He recoiled, evidently deeply mortified. She hastened to add, “He mentioned that you had come down here to recruit your health; that is all.”
Cashel’s features relaxed into a curious smile. But presently he became suspicious, and said, anxiously, “He didn’t tell you anything else about me, did he?”
Alice stared at him superciliously. Lydia replied, “No. Nothing else.”
“I thought you might have heard my name somewhere,” he persisted.
“Perhaps I have; but I cannot recall in what connection. Why? Do you know any friend of mine?”
“Oh, no. Only Lord Worthington.”
“I conclude then that you are celebrated, and that I have the misfortune not to know it, Mr. Cashel Byron. Is it so?”
“Not a bit of it,” he replied, hastily. “There’s no reason why you should ever have heard of me. I am much obliged to you for your kind inquiries,” he continued, turning to Alice. “I’m quite well now, thank you. The country has set me right again.”