"Please give me my sketch, Mr. Byron," she said, her cheeks red with
anger. Puzzled, he turned to Lydia for an explanation, while Alice
seized the sketch and packed it in her portfolio.
"It is getting rather warm," said Lydia. "Shall we return to the
castle?"
"I think we had better," said Alice, trembling with resentment as
she walked away quickly, leaving Lydia alone with Cashel, who
presently exclaimed, "What in thunder have I done?"
"You have made an inconsiderate remark with unmistakable sincerity."
"I only tried to cheer her up. She must have mistaken what I said."
"I think not. Do you believe that young ladies like to be told that
there is no occasion for them to be ridiculously self-conscious?"
"I say that! I'll take my oath I never said anything of the sort."
"You worded it differently. But you assured her that she need not
object to have her drawing overlooked, as it is of no importance to
any one."
"Well, if she takes offence at that she must be a born fool. Some
people can't bear to be told anything. But they soon get all that
thin-skinned nonsense knocked out of them."
"Have you any sisters, Mr. Cashel Byron?"
"No. Why?"
"Or a mother?"
"I have a mother; but I haven't seen her for years; and I don't much
care if I never see her. It was through her that I came to be what I
am."
"Are you then dissatisfied with your profession?"
"No--I don't mean that. I am always saying stupid things."
"Yes. That comes of your ignorance of a sex accustomed to have its
silliness respected. You will find it hard to keep on good terms
with my friend without some further study of womanly ways."
"As to her, I won't give in that I'm wrong unless I AM wrong. The
truth's the truth."
"Not even to please Miss Goff?"
"Not even to please you. You'd only think the worse of me
afterwards."
"Quite true, and quite right," said Lydia, cordially. "Good-bye, Mr.
Cashel Byron. I must rejoin Miss Goff."
"I suppose you will take her part if she keeps a down on me for what
I said to her."
"What is 'a down'? A grudge?"
"Yes. Something of that sort."
"Colonial, is it not?" pursued Lydia, with the air of a philologist.