"I should like to hear your opinion, Baxter, as to what is the proper, and most accredited course to adopt when one has been—er—crossed in love?"
"Why sir," began Baxter, slightly wrinkling his smooth brow, "so far as I can call to mind, the courses usually adopted by despairing lovers, are, in number, four."
"Name them, Baxter."
"First, Mr. George, there is what I may term, the Course
Retaliatory,—which is Marriage—"
"Marriage?"
"With—another party, sir,—on the principle that there are as good fish in the sea as ever came out, and—er—pebbles on beaches, sir; you understand me, sir?"
"Perfectly, go on."
"Secondly, there is the Army, sir, I have known of a good many enlistments on account of blighted affections, Mr. George, sir; indeed, the Army is very popular."
"Ah?" said Bellew, settling the tobacco in his pipe with the aid of the salt-spoon, "Proceed, Baxter."
"Thirdly, Mr. George, there are those who are content to—to merely disappear."