Cashel Byron's Profession
Before many days had elapsed a letter came for Cashel as he sat taking tea with the
Skene family. When he saw the handwriting, a deep red color mounted to his temples.
"Oh, Lor'!" said Miss Skene, who sat next him. "Let's read it."
"Go to the dickens," cried Cashel, hastily baffling her as she snatched at it.
"Don't worrit him, Fan," said Mrs. Skene, tenderly.
"Not for the world, poor dear," said Miss Skene, putting her hand affectionately on his
shoulder. "Let me just peep at the name--to see who it's from. Do, Cashel, DEAR."
"It's from nobody," said Cashel. "Here, get out. If you don't let me alone I'll make it warm
for you the next time you come to me for a lesson."
"Very likely," said Fanny, contemptuously. "Who had the best of it to-day, I should like to
"Gev' him a hot un on the chin with her right as ever I see," observed Skene, with
Cashel went away from the table, out of Fanny's reach; and read the letter, which ran
"Regent's Park. "Dear Mr. Cashel Byron,--I am desirous that you should meet a lady
friend of mine. She will be here at three o'clock to-morrow afternoon. You would oblige
me greatly by calling on me at that hour.
There was a long pause, during which there was no sound in the room except the
ticking of the clock and the munching of shrimps by the ex-champion.
"Good news, I hope, Cashel," said Mrs. Skene, at last, tremulously.
"Blow me if I understand it," said Cashel. "Can you make it out?" And he handed the
letter to his adopted mother. Skene ceased eating to see his wife read, a feat which was
to him one of the wonders of science.