"Queer place," he remarked, after a pause, alluding to the castle.
"Chinese looking, isn't it?"
"It is considered a very fine building," said Alice.
"Oh, hang what it is considered!" said Cashel. "What IS it? That is
the point to look to."
"It is a matter of taste," said Alice, very coldly.
"Mr. Cashel Byron."
Cashel started and hastened to the bank. "How d'ye do, Miss Carew,"
he said. "I didn't see you until you called me." She looked at him;
and he, convicted of a foolish falsehood, quailed. "There is a
splendid view of the castle from here," he continued, to change the
subject. "Miss Goff and I have just been talking about it."
"Yes. Do you admire it?"
"Very much indeed. It is a beautiful place. Every one must
acknowledge that."
"It is considered kind to praise my house to me, and to ridicule it
to other people. You do not say, 'Hang what it is considered,' now."
Cashel, with an unaccustomed sense of getting the worst of an
encounter, almost lost heart to reply. Then he brightened, and said,
"I can tell you how that is. As far as being a place to sketch, or
for another person to look at, it is Chinese enough. But somehow
your living in it makes a difference. That is what I meant; upon my
soul it is.
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