“Sydney,”saidMr.Stryver,onthatself-samenight,ormorning,tohisjackal;“mixanotherbowlofpunch;Ihavesomethingtosaytoyou.” Sydneyhadbeenworkingdoubletidesthatnight,andthenightbefore,andthenightbeforethat,andagoodmanynightsinsuccession,makingagrandclearanceamongMr.Stryver’spapersbeforethesettinginofthelongvacation. Theclearancewaseffectedatlast;theStryverarrearswerehandsomelyfetchedup;everythingwasgotridofuntilNovembershouldcomewithitsfogsatmospheric,andfogslegal,andbringgristtothemillagain. Sydneywasnonethelivelierandnonethesobererforsomuchapplication. Ithadtakenadealofextrawet-towellingtopullhimthroughthenight;acorrespondinglyextraquantityofwinehadprecededthetowelling;andhewasinaverydamagedcondition,ashenowpulledhisturbanoffandthrewitintothebasininwhichhehadsteepeditatintervalsforthelastsixhours. “Areyoumixingthatotherbowlofpunch?”saidStryvertheportly,withhishandsinhiswaistband,glancingroundfromthesofawherehelayonhisback. “Now,lookhere!Iamgoingtotellyousomethingthatwillrathersurpriseyou,andthatperhapswillmakeyouthinkmenotquiteasshrewdasyouusuallydothinkme.Iintendtomarry.” “Yes.Andnotformoney.Whatdoyousaynow?” “Idon’tfeeldisposedtosaymuch.Whoisshe?” “Iamnotgoingtoguess,atfiveo’clockinthemorning,withmybrainsfryingandsputteringinmyhead.ifyouwantmetoguess,youmustaskmetodinner.” “Wellthen,I’lltellyou,saidStryver,comingslowlyintoasittingposture.“Sydney,Iratherdespairofmakingmyselfintelligibletoyou,becauseyouaresuchaninsensibledog. “Andyou,”returnedSydney,busyconcoctingthepunch,“aresuchasensitiveandpoeticalspirit—” “Come!”rejoinedStryver,laughingboastfully,“thoughIdon’tpreferanyclaimtobeingthesoulofRomance(forIhopeIknowbetter),stillIamatenderersortoffellowthanYOU.” “Youarealuckier,ifyoumeanthat.” “Idon’tmeanthat.ImeanIamamanofmore—more—” “Saygallantry,whileyouareaboutit,”suggestedCarton. MymeaningisthatIamaman,”saidStryver,inflatinghimselfathisfriendashemadethepunch,“whocaresmoretobeagreeable,whotakesmorepainstobeagreeable,whoknowsbetterhowtobeagreeable,inawoman’ssociety,thanyoudo.” “No;butbeforeIgoon,”saidStryver,shakinghisheadinhisbullyingway,I’llhavethisoutwithyou. You’vebeenatDoctorManette’shouseasmuchasIhave,ormorethanIhave. Why,Ihavebeenashamedofyourmorosenessthere! Yourmannershavebeenofthatsilentandsullenandhangdogkind,that,uponmylifeandsoul,Ihavebeenashamedofyou,Sydney!” “Itshouldbeverybeneficialtoamaninyourpracticeatthebar,tobeashamedofanything,”returnedSydney;“yououghttobemuchobligedtome.” “Youshallnotgetoffinthatway,”rejoinedStryver,shoulderingtherejoinderathim;“no,Sydney,it’smydutytotellyou—andItellyoutoyourfacetodoyougood—thatyouareadevilishill-conditionedfellowinthatsortofsociety.Youareadisagreeablefellow.” Sydneydrankabumperofthepunchhehadmade,andlaughed. “Lookatme!”saidStryver,squaringhimself;“Ihavelessneedtomakemyselfagreeablethanyouhave,beingmoreindependentincircumstances.WhydoIdoit?” “Ineversawyoudoityet,”mutteredCarton. “Idoitbecauseit’spolitic;Idoitonprinciple.Andlookatme!Igeton.” “Youdon’tgetonwithyouraccountofyourmatrimonialintentions,”answeredCarton,withacarelessair;“Iwishyouwouldkeeptothat.Astome—willyouneverunderstandthatIamincorrigible?” Heaskedthequestionwithsomeappearanceofscorn. “Youhavenobusinesstobeincorrigible,”washisfriend’sanswer,deliveredinnoverysoothingtone. “Ihavenobusinesstobe,atall,thatIknowof,”saidSydneyCarton.“Whoisthelady?” “Now,don’tletmyannouncementofthenamemakeyouuncomfortable,Sydney,”saidMr.Stryver,preparinghimwithostentatiousfriendlinessforthedisclosurehewasabouttomake,“becauseIknowyoudon’tmeanhalfyousay;andifyoumeantitall,itwouldbeofnoimportance. Imakethislittlepreface,becauseyouoncementionedtheyoungladytomeinslightingterms.” “Certainly;andinthesechambers.” SydneyCartonlookedathispunchandlookedathiscomplacentfriend;drankhispunchandlookedathiscomplacentfriend. “Youmadementionoftheyoungladyasagolden-haireddoll.TheyoungladyisMissManette. Ifyouhadbeenafellowofanysensitivenessordelicacyoffeelinginthatkindofway,Sydney,Imighthavebeenalittleresentfulofyouremployingsuchadesignation;butyouarenot. Youwantthatsensealtogether;thereforeIamnomoreannoyedwhenIthinkoftheexpression,thanIshouldbeannoyedbyaman’sopinionofapictureofmine,whohadnoeyeforpictures:orofapieceofmusicofmine,whohadnoearformusic.” SydneyCartondrankthepunchatagreatrate;drankitbybumpers,lookingathisfriend. “Nowyouknowallaboutit,Syd,”saidMr.Stryver. “Idon’tcareaboutfortune:sheisacharmingcreature,andIhavemadeupmymindtopleasemyself:onthewhole,IthinkIcanaffordtopleasemyself. Shewillhaveinmeamanalreadyprettywelloff,andarapidlyrisingman,andamanofsomedistinction:itisapieceofgoodfortuneforher,butsheisworthyofgoodfortune.Areyouastonished?” Carton,stilldrinkingthepunch,rejoined,“WhyshouldIbeastonished?” Carton,stilldrinkingthepunch,rejoined,“WhyshouldInotapprove?” “Well!”saidhisfriendStryver,“youtakeitmoreeasilythanIfanciedyouwould,andarelessmercenaryonmybehalfthanIthoughtyouwouldbe;though,tobesure,youknowwellenoughbythistimethatyourancientchumisamanofaprettystrongwill. Yes,Sydney,Ihavehadenoughofthisstyleoflife,withnootherasachangefromit;Ifeelthatitisapleasantthingforamantohaveahomewhenhefeelsinclinedtogotoit(whenhedoesn’t,hecanstayaway),andIfeelthatMissManettewilltellwellinanystation,andwillalwaysdomecredit.SoIhavemadeupmymind. Andnow,Sydney,oldboy,IwanttosayawordtoYOUaboutYOURprospects. Youareinabadway,youknow;youreallyareinabadway. Youdon’tknowthevalueofmoney,youEvehard,you’llknockuponeofthesedays,andbeillandpoor;youreallyoughttothinkaboutanurse.” Theprosperouspatronagewithwhichhesaidit,madehimlooktwiceasbigashewas,andfourtimesasoffensive. “Now,letmerecommendyou,”pursuedStryver,“tolookitintheface. Ihavelookeditintheface,inmydifferentway;lookitintheface,you,inyourdifferentway.Marry.Providesomebodytotakecareofyou. Nevermindyourhavingnoenjoymentofwomen’ssociety,norunderstandingofit,nortactforit.Findoutsomebody. Findoutsomerespectablewomanwithalittleproperty—somebodyinthelandladyway,orlodging-lettingway—andmarryher,againstarainyday.That’sthekindofthingforYOU.Nowthinkofit,Sydney.” “I’llthinkofit,”saidSydney.