obtained, the flowers, which are the pride of the
South-country people, simply come up hideous and black with grime.

The writer of these lines once lived in a manufacturing town in the
North, and, there being a strip of garden to his house, he asked the
gardener to plant for him some white hyacinth bulbs, hyacinths being
one of his favourite flowers. When the spring came, the hyacinths
appeared, but alas! they were not white, but as black as the soot which
is belched forth from a hundred chimneys.

So moved was Paul by the kindness which was manifested, that a great
sob came into his throat, and his heart became full of love towards the
people. He longed, as he had never longed before, to work for them, to
live for them; and before his mind came a vision of what the future
might have in store. He knew what their life was, understood
thoroughly the hard conditions under which they laboured. Yes, he
would make some return for all this goodwill, and for the love which
they evidently bore to him. He would live for them! He would work
night and day for the betterment of their conditions! He would make
Brunford a town to rejoice in! He would remove the wrongs under which
the people suffered, and bring music and gladness into their lives!
How he was to do this he did not know; indeed, it seemed impossible for
him to commence as yet, but the time would come, and when that time
came he would not spare himself. He did not forget what he had
regarded as the chief purpose of his existence--that, at all costs,
must be performed--but he must not live wholly for that; he must live
for the people who loved him, and whom, in spite of everything, he
loved.

"Well, Preston," he said, "what is it?" when at length they reached his
lodgings, and were sitting alone in the little room which the old
couple had allotted to him.

"I was thinking," said Preston, "of what you mean to do in the future."

"I don't think I shall go to work to-morrow," said Paul. "I shall need
one day's holiday to get things straightened out a bit, but, as you
know, my place is kept open for me."

"Have you any brass?" asked Preston abruptly.

"Not much," said Paul; "but I've saved a few pounds." And then, with a
laugh, "It's cost me nothing to live during the winter, you know. All
the same, I've had to work hard for the black bread and skilly."

"Come, now," said Preston, "let's say no more about that. I know you
had a bad time, but you know by