Mrs. Byron looked at him satirically. But she said, soothingly, "Of
course I will help you--as far as I am able--my precious one. All I
possess is yours."
Cashel ground his feet on the floor impatiently, and then sprang up.
After an interval, during which he seemed to be swallowing some
indignant protest, he said, "You may put your mind at rest, once and for all, on the subject of
money. I don't want anything of that sort."
"I am glad you are so independent, Cashel."
"So am I."
"Do, pray, be more amiable."
"I am amiable enough," he cried, desperately, "only you won't
listen."
"My treasure," said Mrs. Byron, remorsefully. "What is the matter?"
"Well," said Cashel, somewhat mollified, "it is this. I want to
marry Miss Carew; that's all."
"YOU marry Miss Carew!" Mrs. Byron's tenderness had vanished, and
her tone was shrewd and contemptuous. "Do you know, you silly boy,
that--"
"I know all about it," said Cashel, determinedly--"what she is, and
what I am, and the rest of it. And I want to marry her; and, what's
more, I will marry her, if I have to break the neck of every swell
in London first. So you can either help me or not, as you please;
but if you won't, never call me your precious boy any more. Now!"
Mrs. Byron abdicated her dominion there and then forever. She sat
with quite a mild expression for some time in silence. Then she
said, "After all, I do not see why you should not. It would be a very good
match for you."
"Yes; but a deuced bad one for her."
"Really, I do not see that, Cashel. When your uncle dies, I suppose
you will succeed to the Dorsetshire property."
"I the heir to a property! Are you in earnest?"
"Of course. Don't you know who your people are?"
"How could I? You never told me. Do you mean to say that I have an
uncle?"
"Old Bingley Byron? Certainly."
"Well, I AM blowed. But--but--I mean--Supposing he IS my uncle, am
I his lawful heir?"
"Yes. Walford Byron, the only other brother of your father, died
years ago, while you were at Moncrief's; and he had no sons. Bingley
is a bachelor."
"But," said Cashel, cautiously, "won't there be some bother about
my--at least--"