not have railed heartily Capitalists? Was he
not one himself? Aye, but he would prove himself such a one as you do
not meet with every day; and the foresight of deeds which should draw
the eyes of men upon him, which should shout his name abroad, softened
his judgments with the charity of satisfied ambition. He would be the
glorified representative of his class. He would show the world how a
self-taught working man conceived the duties and privileges of wealth.
He would shame those dunder-headed, callous-hearted aristocrats, those
ravening bourgeois. Opportunity--what else had he wanted? No longer
would his voice be lost in petty lecture-halls, answered only by the
applause of a handful of mechanics. Ere many months had passed, crowds
should throng to hear him; his gospel would be trumpeted over the land.
To what might he not attain? The educated, the refined, men and women--

He was at the entrance of a dark passage, where his feet stayed
themselves by force of habit. He turned out of the street, and walked
more slowly towards the house in which Emma Vine and her sisters lived.
Having reached the door, he paused, but again took a few paces forward.
Then he came back and rang the uppermost of five bells. In waiting, he
looked vaguely up and down the street.

It was Emma herself who opened to him. The dim light showed a smile of
pleasure and surprise.

'You've come to ask about Jane?' she said. 'She hasn't been quite so bad
since last night.'

'I'm glad to hear it. Can I come up?'

'Will you?'

He entered, and Emma closed the door. It was pitch dark.

'I wish I'd brought a candle down,' Emma said, moving back along the
passage. 'Mind there's a pram at the foot of the stairs.'

The perambulator was avoided successfully by both, and they ascended
the bare boards of the staircase. On each landing prevailed a distinct
odour; first came the damp smell of newly-washed clothes, then the
scent of fried onions, then the workroom of some small craftsman exhaled
varnish. The topmost floor seemed the purest; it was only stuffy.

Richard entered an uncarpeted room which had to serve too many distinct
purposes to allow of its being orderly in appearance. In one corner was
a bed, where two little children lay asleep; before the window stood a
sewing-machine, about which was heaped a quantity of linen; a table in
the midst was half covered with a cloth, on which was placed a loaf and
butter, the other half being piled with se