Cashel Byrons Profession | Page 3

of her son was beginning to bore her;
and, though a doctor of divinity, he was as reluctant as other men to be
found wanting in address by a pretty woman. So he rang the bell, and
bade the servant send Master Cashel Byron. Presently a door was heard
to open below, and a buzz of distant voices became audible. The doctor
fidgeted and tried to think of something to say, but his invention failed
him: he sat in silence while the inarticulate buzz rose into a shouting of
"By-ron!" "Cash!" the latter cry imitated from the summons usually
addressed to cashiers in haberdashers' shops. Finally there was a
piercing yell of "Mam-ma-a-a-a-ah!" apparently in explanation of the
demand for Byron's attendance in the drawing-room. The doctor
reddened. Mrs. Byron smiled. Then the door below closed, shutting out
the tumult, and footsteps were heard on the stairs.
"Come in," cried the doctor, encouragingly.
Master Cashel Byron entered blushing; made his way awkwardly to his
mother, and kissed the critical expression which was on her upturned
face as she examined his appearance. Being only seventeen, he had not

yet acquired a taste for kissing. He inexpertly gave Mrs. Byron quite a
shock by the collision of their teeth. Conscious of the failure, he drew
himself upright, and tried to hide his hands, which were exceedingly
dirty, in the scanty folds of his jacket. He was a well-grown youth, with
neck and shoulders already strongly formed, and short auburn hair
curling in little rings close to his scalp. He had blue eyes, and an
expression of boyish good-humor, which, however, did not convey any
assurance of good temper.
"How do you do, Cashel?" said Mrs. Byron, in a queenly manner, after
a prolonged look at him.
"Very well, thanks," said he, grinning and avoiding her eye.
"Sit down, Byron," said the doctor. Byron suddenly forgot how to sit
down, and looked irresolutely from one chair to another. The doctor
made a brief excuse, and left the room; much to the relief of his pupil.
"You have grown greatly, Cashel. And I am afraid you are very
awkward." Cashel colored and looked gloomy.
"I do not know what to do with you," continued Mrs. Byron. "Dr.
Moncrief tells me that you are very idle and rough."
"I am not," said Cashel, sulkily. "It is bec--"
"There is no use in contradicting me in that fashion," said Mrs. Byron,
interrupting him sharply. "I am sure that whatever Dr. Moncrief says is
perfectly true."
"He is always talking like that," said Cashel, plaintively. "I can't learn
Latin and Greek; and I don't see what good they are. I work as hard as
any of the rest--except the regular stews, perhaps. As to my being
rough, that is all because I was out one day with Gully Molesworth,
and we saw a crowd on the common, and when we went to see what
was up it was two men fighting. It wasn't our fault that they came there
to fight."

"Yes; I have no doubt that you have fifty good excuses, Cashel. But I
will not allow any fighting; and you really must work harder. Do you
ever think of how hard I have to work to pay Dr. Moncrief one hundred
and twenty pounds a year for you?"
"I work as hard as I can. Old Moncrief seems to think that a fellow
ought to do nothing else from morning till night but write Latin verses.
Tatham, that the doctor thinks such a genius, does all his constering
from cribs. If I had a crib I could conster as well--very likely better."
"You are very idle, Cashel; I am sure of that. It is too provoking to
throw away so much money every year for nothing. Besides, you must
soon be thinking of a profession."
"I shall go into the army," said Cashel. "It is the only profession for a
gentleman."
Mrs. Byron looked at him for a moment as if amazed at his
presumption. But she checked herself and only said, "I am afraid you
will have to choose some less expensive profession than that. Besides,
you would have to pass an examination to enable you to enter the army;
and how can you do that unless you study?"
"Oh, I shall do that all right enough when the time comes."
"Dear, dear! You are beginning to speak so coarsely, Cashel. After all
the pains I took with you at home!"
"I speak the same as other people," he replied, sullenly. "I don't see the
use of being so jolly particular over every syllable. I used to have to
stand no end of chaff about my way of speaking. The fellows here
know all about you, of course."
"All about me?" repeated Mrs. Byron, looking at