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When the newly-married pair came home, the first person who

appeared, to offer his congratulations, was Sydney Carton. They

had not been at home many hours, when he presented himself. He

was not improved in habits, or in looks, or in manner; but there

was a certain rugged air of fidelity about him, which was new to

the observation of Charles Darnay.

He watched his opportunity of taking Darnay aside into a window,

and of speaking to him when no one overheard.

"Mr. Darnay," said Carton, "I wish we might be friends."

"We are already friends, I hope."

"You are good enough to say so, as a fashion of speech; but, I

don't mean any fashion of speech. Indeed, when I say I wish we

might be friends, I scarcely mean quite that, either."

Charles Darnay--as was natural--asked him, in all good-humour and

good-fellowship, what he did mean?