《A Tale of Two Cities》　Book2　CHAPTER
XII The Fellow of Delicacy
　　　　by Charles Dickens

MR. STRYVER having made
up his mind to that magnanimous bestowal of good fortune on the Doctor's daughter,
resolved to make her happiness known to her before he left town for the Long Vacation.
After some mental debating of the point, he came to the conclusion that it would be as
well to get all the preliminaries done with, and they could then arrange at their leisure
whether he should give her his hand a week or two before Michaelmas Term, or in the little
Christmas vacation between it and Hilary.



As to the strength of his case, he had not a doubt about it, but clearly saw his way to'
the verdict. Argued with the jury on substantialworldly grounds--the only grounds ever
worth taking into account--it was a plain case, and had not a weak spot in it. He called
himself for the plaintiff, there was no getting over his evidence, the counsel for the
defendant threw up his brief, and the jury did not even turn to consider. After trying it,
Stryver, C. J., was satisfied that no plainer case could be.



Accordingly, Mr. Stryver inaugurated the Long Vacation with a formal proposal to take Miss
Manette to Vauxhall Gardens; that failing, to Ranelagh; that unaccountably failing too, it
behoved him to present himself in Soho, and there declare his noble mind.



Towards Soho, therefore, Mr. Steer shouldered his way from the Temple, while the bloom of
the Long Vacation's infancy was still upon it. Anybody who had seen him projecting himself
into Soho while he was yet on Saint Dunstan's side of Temple Bar, bursting in his
full-blown way along the pavement, to the jostlement of all weaker people, might have seen
how safe and strong he was.



His way taking him past Tellson's, and he both banking at Tellson's and knowing Mr. Lorry
as the intimate friend of the Manettes, it entered Mr. Stryver's mind to enter the bank,
and reveal to Mr. Lorry the brightness of the Soho horizon. So, he pushed open the door
with the weak rattle in its throat, stumbled down the two steps, got past the two ancient
cashiers, and shouldered himself into the musty back closet where Mr. Lorry sat at great
books ruled for figures, with perpendicular iron bars to his window as if that were ruled
for figures too, and everything under the clouds were a sum.



`Halloa!' said Mr. Stryver. `How do you do? I hope you are well!'



It was Stryver's grand peculiarity that he always seemed too big for any place, or space.
He was so much too big for Tellson's, that old clerks in distant corners looked up with
looks of remonstrance, as though he squeezed them against the wall. The House itself,
magnificently reading the paper quite in the far-offperspective, lowered displeased, as
if the Stryver head had been butted into its responsible waistcoat.



The discreet Mr. Lorry said, in a sample tone of the voice he would recommend under the
circumstances, `How do you do, Mr. Stryver? How do you do, sir?' and shook hands. There
was a peculiarity in his manner of shaking hands, always to be seen in any clerk at
Tellson's who shook hands with a customer when the House pervaded the air. He shook in a
self-abnegating way, as one who shook for Tellson and Co.



`Can I do anything for you, Mr. Stryver?' asked Mr. Lorry, in his business character.



`Why, no, thank you; this is a private visit to yourself, Mr. Lorry; I have come for a
private word.'



`Oh indeed!' said Mr. Lorry, bending down his ear, while his eye strayed to the House afar
off.



`I am going,' said Mr. Stryver, leaning his arms confidentially on the desk: whereupon,
although it was a large double one, there appeared to be not half desk enough for him: `I
am going to make an offer of myself in marriage to your agreeable little friend, Miss
Manette, Mr. Lorry.'



Oh dear me!' cried Mr. Lorry, rubbing his chin, and looking at his visitor dubiously.



`Oh dear me, sir?' repeated Stryver, drawing back.



`Oh dear you, sir? What may your meaning be, Mr. Lorry?'



`My meaning,' answered the man of business, `is, of course, friendly and appreciative, and
that it does you the greatest credit, and--in short, my meaning is everything you could
desire. But--really, you know, Mr. Stryver ---' Mr. Lorry paused, and shook his head at
him in the oddest manner, as if he were compelled against his will to add, internally,
`you know there really is so much too much of you!'



`Well!' said Stryver, slapping the desk with his contentious hand, opening his eyes wider,
and taking a long breath, `if I understand you, Mr. Lorry, I'll be hanged!'



Mr. Lorry adjusted his little wig at both ears as a means towards that end, and bit the
feather of a pen.



`D--n it all, sir!' said Stryver, staring at him, `am I not eligible?'



`Oh dear yes! Yes. Oh yes, you're eligible!' said Mr. Lorry. `If you say eligible, you are
eligible.'



`Am I not prosperous?' asked Stryver.



`Oh! if you come to prosperous, you are prosperous,' said Mr. Lorry.



`And advancing?'



`If you come to advancing, you know,' said Mr. Lorry, delighted to be able to make another
admission, `nobody can doubt that.'



`Then what on earth is your meaning, Mr. Lorry?' demanded Stryver, perceptibly
crestfallen.



`Well! I Were you going there now?' asked Mr. Lorry. `Straight!' said Stryver, with a
plump of his fist on the desk. `Then I think I wouldn't, if I was you.'



`Why?' said Stryver. `Now, I'll put you in a corner,' forensically shaking a forefinger at
him. `You are a man of business and bound to have a reason. State your reason.



Why wouldn't you go?'



`Because,' said Mr. Lorry, `I wouldn't go on such an object without having some cause to
believe that I should succeed.'



`D--n ME!' cried Stryver, `but this beats everything.'



Mr. Lorry glanced at the distant House, and glanced at the angry Stryver.



`Here's a man of business--a man of years--a man of experience--in a Bank,' said Stryver;
`and having summed up three leading reasons for complete success, he says there's no
reason at all! Says it with his head on!' Mr. Stryver remarked upon tile peculiarity as if
it would have been infinitely less remarkable if he had said it with his head off.



`When I speak of success, I speak of success with the young lady; and when I speak of
causes and reasons to make success probable, I speak of causes and reasons that will tell
as such with the young lady. The young lady, my good sir,' said Mr. Lorry, mildly tapping
the Stryver arm, `the young lady. The young lady goes before all.'



`Then you mean to tell me, Mr. Lorry,' said Stryver, squaring his elbows, `that it is your
deliberate opinion that the young lady at present in question is a mincing Fool?'



`Not exactly so. I mean to tell you, Mr. Stryver,' said Mr. Lorry, reddening, `that I will
hear no disrespectful word Of that young lady from any lips; and that if I knew any
man--which I hope I do not--whose taste was so coarse, and whose temper was so
overbearing, that he could not restrain himself from speaking disrespectfully of that
young lady at this desk, not even Tellson's should prevent my giving him a piece of my
mind.'



The necessity of being angry in a suppressed tone had put Mr. Stryver's blood-vessels into
a dangerous state when it was his turn to be angry; Mr. Lorry's veins, methodical as their
courses could usually be, were in no better state now it was his turn.



`That is what I mean to tell you, sir,' said Mr. Lorry. `Pray let there be no mistake
about it.'



Mr. Stryver sucked tile end of a ruler for a little while and then stood hitting a tune
out of his teeth with it, which' probably gave him the toothache. He broke the awkward
silence by saying:



`This is something new to me, Mr. Lorry. You deliberately advise me not to go up to Soho
and offer myself--myself, Stryver of the King's Bench bar?'



`Do you ask me for my advice, Mr. Stryver?'



`Yes, I do.'



`Very good. Then I give it, and you have repeated it correctly.'



`And all I can say of it is,' laughed Stryver with a vexed laugh, `that this--ha,
ha!--beats everything past, present, and to come.'



`Now understand me,' pursued Mr. Lorry. `As a man of business, I am not justified in
saying anything about this matter, for, as a man of business, I know nothing of it. But,
as an old fellow, who has carried Miss Manette in his arms, who is the trusted friend of
Miss Manette and of her father too, and who has a great affection for them both, I have
spoken. The confidence is not of my seeking, recollect. Now, you think I may not be
right?'



`Not I!' said Stryver, whistling. `I can't undertake to find third parties in common
sense; I can only find it for myself I suppose sense in certain quarters; you suppose
mincing bread-and-butter nonsense. It's new to me, but you are right, I dare say.'



`What I suppose, Mr. Stryver, I claim to characterise for myself And understand me, sir,'
said Mr. Lorry, quickly flushing again, `I will not--not even at Tellson's--have it
characterised for me by any gentleman breathing.'



`There! I beg your pardon!' said Stryver.



`Granted. Thank you. Well, Mr. Stryver, I was about to say--it might be painful to you to
find yourself mistaken, it might be painful to Doctor Manette to have the task of being
explicit with you, it might be very painful to Miss Manette to have the task of being
explicit with you. You know the terms upon which I have the honour and happiness to stand
with the family. If you please, committing you in no way, representing you in no way, I
will undertake to correct my advice by the exercise of a little new observation and
judgment expressly brought to bear upon it. If you should then be dissatisfied with it,
you can but test its

soundness for yourself; if, on the other hand, you should be satisfied with it, and it
should be what it now is, it may spare all sides what is best spared. What do you say?'



`How long would you keep me in town?'



`Oh! It is only a question of a few hours. I could go to Soho in the evening, and come to
your chambers afterwards.'



`Then I say yes,' said Stryver: `I won't go up there now, I am not so hot upon it as that
comes to; I say yes, and I shall expect you to look in to-night. Good-morning.'



Then Mr. Stryver turned and burst out of the Bank, causing such a concussion of air on his
passage through, that to stand up against it bowing behind the two counters, required the
utmost remaining strength of the two ancient clerks.



Those venerable and feeble persons were always seen by the public in the act of bowing,
and were popularly believed, when they had bowed a customer out, still to keep on bowing
in the empty office until they bowed another customer in.



The barrister was keen enough to divine that the banker would not have gone so far in his
expression of opinion on any less solid ground than moral certainty. Unprepared as he was
for the large pill he had to swallow, he got it down. `And now,' said Mr. Stryver, shaking
his forensic forefinger at the Temple in general, when it was down, `my way out of this,
is, to put you all in the wrong.'



It was a bit of the art of an Old Bailey tactician, in which he found great relief. `You
shall not put me in the wrong, young lady,' said Mr. Stryver; `I'll do that for you.'



Accordingly, when Mr. Lorry called that night as late as ten o'clock, Mr. Stryver, among a
quantity of books and papers littered out for the purpose, seemed to have nothing less on
his mind than the subject of the morning. He even showed surprise when he saw Mr. Lorry,
and was altogether in an absent and preoccupied state.



`Well!' said that good-natured emissary, after a full half-hour of bootless attempts to
bring him round to the question. `I have been to Soho.'



`To Soho?' repeated Mr. Stryver, coldly. `Oh, to be sure! What am I thinking of!'



`And I have no doubt,' said Mr. Lorry, `that I was right in the conversation we had. My
opinion is confirmed, and I reiterate my advice.'



`I assure you,' returned Mr. Stryver, in the friendliest way, `that I am sorry for it on
your account, and sorry for it on the poor father's account. I know this must always be a
sore subject with the family; let us say no more about it.'



`I don't understand you,' said Mr Lorry.



`I dare say not,' rejoined Stryver, nodding his head in a smoothing and final way; no
matter, no matter.'



`But it does matter,' Mr. Lorry urged.



`No it doesn't; I assure you it doesn't. Having supposed that there was sense where there
is no sense, and a laudable ambition where there is not a laudable ambition, I am well out
of my mistake, and no harm is done. Young women have committed similar follies often
before, and have repented them in poverty and obscurity often before. In an unselfish
aspect, I am sorry that the thing is dropped, because it would have been a bad thing for
me in a worldly point of view; in a selfish aspect, I am glad that the thing has dropped,
because it would have been a bad thing for me in a worldly point of view--it is hardly
necessary to say I could have gained nothing by it. There is no harm at all done. I have
not proposed to the young lady, and, between ourselves, I am by no means certain, on
reflection, that I ever should have committed myself to that extent. Mr. Lorry, you cannot
control the mincing vanities and giddinesses of empty-headed girls; you must not expect to
do it, or you will always he disappointed.



Now, pray say no more about it. I tell you, I regret it on account of others, but I am
satisfied on my own account. And I am really very much obliged to you for allowing me to
sound you, and for giving me your advice; you know the young lady better than I do; you
were right, it never would have done.



Mr. Lorry was so taken aback, that he looked quite stupidly at Mr. Stryver shouldering him
towards the door, with an appearance of showering generosity, forbearance, and goodwill,
on his erring head. 'Make the best of it, my dear sir,' said Stryver; `say no more about
it; thank you again for allowing me to sound you; good-night!' Mr. Lorry was out in the
night, before he knew where he was. Mr. Stryver was lying back on his sofa, winking at his
Ceiling.
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