"--but they are seldom ladies and gentlemen; often actors, gypsies,
and Celtic or foreign peasants. Undoubtedly one can make a fair
guess, but not in the case of this Mr. Cashel Byron. Are you curious
about him?"

"I!" exclaimed Alice, superbly. "Not in the least."

"I am. He interests me. I seldom see anything novel in humanity; and
he is a very singular man."

"I meant," said Alice, crestfallen, "that I take no special interest
in him."

Lydia, not being curious as to the exact degree of Alice's interest,
merely nodded, and continued, "He may, as you suppose, be a man of
humble origin who has seen something of society; or he may be a
gentleman unaccustomed to society. Probably the latter. I feel no
conviction either way."

"But he speaks very roughly; and his slang is disgusting. His hands
are hard and quite black. Did you not notice them?"

"I noticed it all; and I think that if he were a man of low
condition he would be careful not to use slang. Self-made persons
are usually precise in their language; they rarely violate the
written laws of society. Besides, his pronunciation of some words is
so distinct that an idea crossed me once that he might be an actor.
But then it is not uniformly distinct. I am sure that he has some
object or occupation in life: he has not the air of an idler. Yet I
have thought of all the ordinary professions, and he does not fit