have tried to mystify me on both points--"

"And you never shall find out either the one or the other, if I can
help it," put in Cashel; "so that we're in a preciously bad way of
coming to a good understanding."

"True," assented Lydia. "I do not make secrets; I do not keep them;
and I do not respect them. Your humor clashes with my principle."

"You call it a humor!" said Cashel, angrily. "Perhaps you think I am
a duke in disguise. If so, you may think better of it. If you had a
secret, the discovery of which would cause you to be kicked out of
decent society, you would keep it pretty tight. And that through no
fault of your own, mind you; but through downright cowardice and
prejudice in other people."

"There are at least some fears and prejudices common in society that
I do not share," said Lydia, after a moment's reflection. "Should I
ever find out your secret, do not too hastily conclude that you have
forfeited my consideration."

"You are just the last person on earth by whom I want to be found
out. But you'll find out fast enough. Pshaw!" cried Cashel, with a
laugh, "I'm as well known as Trafalgar Square. But I can't bring
myself to tell you; and I hate secrets as much as you do; so let's
drop it and talk about something else."

"We have talked long enough. The music is over, and the people will
return to this room presently, perhaps to ask me who and what is the
stranger who made them such a remarkable speech."