and stepped into the roadway in order to pass him. Indignant at this
attempt to ignore him, he again placed himself in her path, and was
repeating his question with increased sternness, when a jerk in the
pit of his stomach caused him a severe internal qualm, besides
disturbing his equilibrium so rudely that he narrowly escaped a fall
against the curb-stone. When he recovered himself he saw before him
a showily dressed young man, who accosted him thus:

"Is that the way to talk to a lady, eh? Isn't the street wide enough
for two? Where's your manners?"

"And who are you; and where are you shoving your elbow to?" said the
man, with a surpassing imprecation.

"Come, come," said Cashel Byron, admonitorily. "You'd better keep
your mouth clean if you wish to keep your teeth inside it. Never you
mind who I am."

Lydia, foreseeing an altercation, and alarmed by the threatening
aspect of the man, attempted to hurry away and send a policeman to
Cashel's assistance. But, on turning, she discovered that a crowd
had already gathered, and that she was in the novel position of a
spectator in the inner ring at what promised to be a street fight.
Her attention was recalled to the disputants by a violent
demonstration on the part of her late assailant. Cashel seemed
alarmed; for he hastily retreated a step without regard to the toes
of those behind him, and exclaimed, waving the other off with his
open hand,

"Now, you just let me alone. I don't want to have anything to say to