Cashel looked at her, half in appeal, half in remonstrance.
"Something very different, indeed," pursued Lydia, with quiet
obstinacy. "And something very startling."
"CAN'T you shut up?" exclaimed Cashel. "I should have expected more
sense from you. What's the use of setting her on to make a fuss and
put me in a rage? I'll go away if you don't stop."
"What is the matter?" said Mrs. Byron. "Have you been doing anything
disgraceful, Cashel?"
"There she goes. I told you so. I keep a gymnasium, that's all.
There's nothing disgraceful in that, I hope."
"A gymnasium?" repeated Mrs. Byron, with imperious disgust. "What
nonsense! You must give up everything of that kind, Cashel. It is
very silly, and very low. You were too ridiculously proud, of
course, to come to me for the means of keeping yourself in a proper
position. I suppose I shall have to provide you with--"
"If I ever take a penny from you, may I--" Cashel caught Lydia's
anxious look, and checked himself. He paused and got away a step, a
cunning smile flickering on his lips. "No," he said; "it's just
playing into your hands to lose temper with you. You think you know
me, and you want to force the fighting. Well, we'll see.
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