“Then you may have the ten thousand pounds to do what you like with,” said Cashel, despairingly. “It won’t matter what becomes of me. I won’t go to the devil for you or any woman if I can help it; and I--but where’s the good of saying IF you refuse. I know I don’t express myself properly; I’m a bad hand at sentimentality; but if I had as much gab as a poet, I couldn’t be any fonder of you, or think more highly of you.” “But you are mistaken as to the amount of my income.” “That doesn’t matter a bit. If you have more, why, the more the merrier. If you have less, or if you have to give up all your property when you’re married, I will soon make another ten thousand to supply the loss. Only give me one good word, and, by George, I’ll fight the seven champions of Christendom, one down and t’other come on, for five thousand a side each. Hang the money!” “I am richer than you suppose,” said Lydia, unmoved. “I cannot tell you exactly how much I possess; but my income is about forty thousand pounds.” “Forty thousand pounds!” ejaculated Cashel. “Holy Moses! I didn’t think the queen had so much as that.” He paused a moment, and became very red. Then, in a voice broken by mortification, he said, “I see I have been making a fool of myself,” and took his hat and turned to go. “It does not follow that you should go at once without a word,” said Lydia, betraying nervousness for the first time during the interview. “Oh, that’s all rot,” said Cashel. “I may be a fool while my eyes are shut, but I’m sensible enough when they’re open. I have no business here. I wish to the Lord I had stayed in Australia.” “Perhaps it would have been better,” said Lydia, troubled. “But since we have met, it is useless to deplore it; and--Let me remind you of one thing. You have pointed out to me that I have made friends of men whose pursuits are no better than yours. I do not wholly admit that; but there is one respect in which they are on the same footing as you. They are all, as far as worldly gear is concerned, much poorer than I. Many of them, I fear, are much poorer than you are.” Cashel looked up quickly with returning hope; but it lasted only a moment. He shook his head dejectedly. “I am at least grateful to you,” she continued, “because you have sought me for my own sake, knowing nothing of my wealth.” “I should think not,” groaned Cashel. “Your wealth may be a very fine thing for the other fellows; and I’m glad you have it, for your own sake. But it’s a settler for me. It’s knocked me out of time, so it has. I sha’n’t come up again; and the sooner the sponge is chucked up in my corner, the better. So good-bye.” “Good-bye,” said Lydia, almost as pale as he had now become, “since you will have it so.”