e of the boy's
mind,--'and let them die off as soon as possible. The children should
be sent to school and purified, if possible; if not, they too should be
got rid of.'

'You're an aristocrat, Godwin,' remarked Oliver, simply; for the elder
brother had of late been telling him fearful stories from the French
Revolution, with something of an anti-popular bias.

'I hope I am. I mean to be, that's certain. There's nothing I hate like
vulgarity. That's why I can't stand Roper. When he beat me in
mathematics last midsummer, I felt so ashamed I could hardly bear
myself. I'm working like a nigger at algebra and Euclid this half, just
because I think it would almost kill me to be beaten again by a low
cad.'

This was perhaps the first time that Godwin found expression for the
prejudice which affected all his thoughts and feelings. It relieved him
to have spoken thus; henceforth he had become clear as to his point of
view. By dubbing him aristocrat, Oliver had flattered him in the
subtlest way. If indeed the title were justly his, as he instantly felt
it was, the inference was plain that he must be an aristocrat of
nature's own making--one of the few highly favoured beings who, in
despite of circumstance, are pinnacled above mankind. In his ignorance
of life, the boy visioned a triumphant career; an aristocrat _de jure_
might possibly become one even in the common sense did he but pursue
that end with sufficient zeal. And in his power of persistent endeavour
he had no lack of faith.

The next day he walked with exalted head. Encountering the
objectionable Roper, he smiled upon him contemptuously tolerant.

There being no hope of effective assistance from relatives, Mrs. Peak
turned for counsel to a man of business, with whom her husband had made
acquaintance in his farming days, and who held a position of influence
at Twybridge. This was Mr. Moxey, manufacturing chemist, famous in the
Midlands for his 'sheep and cattle dressings', and sundry other
products of agricultural enterprise. His ill-scented, but lucrative,
works were situated a mile out of the town; and within sight of the
reeking chimneys stood a large, plain house, uncomfortably like an
'institution' of some kind, in which he dwelt with his five daughters.
Thither, one evening, Mrs. Peak betook herself, having learnt that Mr.
Moxey dined at five o'clock, and that he was generally to be found
digging in his garden until sunset. Her reception was civil. The
manu