"Yes, there he is, talking to Miss Wyllys. Perhaps he may interfere with your prediction about her and my friend Hazlehurst."
"Possibly; but a-propos of weddings; why don't you marry, yourself, Mr. Stryker? You have been a delightful beau now, for how many years?" asked the lady, mischievously.
"Oh, these five lustres, I suppose; for I began early," replied Mr. Stryker, who had too much worldly wisdom, not to make a merit of frankness, where he could not help it.
{"lustre" = a period of five years}
"Six, you mean," said Mrs. de Vaux, laughing.
"No, five, honestly counted. I don't know exactly how old I may be; but the other day I heard a fellow say, 'Stryker can't be more than five-and-forty;' and I dare say be was right."
"Well, allowing you are only five-and-forty, don't you mean to marry, one of these days?"
"Certainly."
"Don't you think it time to look about you?"
"High time; but who will have me?" continued Mr. Stryker, with great complacency of manner.