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"Now, let me recommend you," pursued Stryver, "to look it in the

face. I have looked it in the face, in my different way; look it

in the face, you, in your different way. Marry. Provide somebody

to take care of you. Never mind your having no enjoyment of

women's society, nor understanding of it, nor tact for it. Find

out somebody. Find out some respectable woman with a little

property--somebody in the landlady way, or lodging-letting

way--and marry her, against a rainy day. That's the kind of thing

for you. Now think of it, Sydney."

"I'll think of it," said Sydney.

CHAPTER XII. The Fellow of Delicacy