the rank their father had bequeathed to them. He would not
avow to such friends as Moxey and Earwaker the social standing of his
only recognised relatives.

As for the unrecognised, he had long ago heard with some satisfaction
that Andrew Peak, having ultimately failed in his Kingsmill venture,
returned to London. Encounter with the fatal Andrew had been spared him
ever since that decisive day when Master Jowey Peak recited from
Coleridge and displayed his etymological genius.

For himself, he had earned daily bread, and something more; he had
studied in desultory fashion; he had seen a good deal of the British
Isles and had visited Paris. The result of it all was gnawing
discontent, intervals of furious revolt, periods of black despair.

He had achieved nothing, and he was alone.

Young still, to be sure; at twenty-nine it is too early to abandon
ambitions which are supported by force of brain and of will. But
circumstances must needs help if the desires of his soul were to be
attained. On first coming to London, received with all friendliness by
Christian Moxey, he had imagined that it only depended upon himself to
find admission before long to congenial society--by which he then
understood the companionship of intelligent and aspiring young men.
Christian, however, had himself no such circle, and knew that the
awkward lad from Twybridge could not associate with the one or two
wealthy families to which he could have presented him. The School of
Mines was only technically useful; it helped Godwin to get his place
with Bates & Sons, but supplied no friendships. In the third year,
Moxey inherited means and left the chemical works for continental
travel.

By tormenting attraction Godwin was often led to walk in the wealthy
districts of London. Why was no one of these doors open to him? There
were his equals; not in the mean streets where he dwelt. There were the
men of culture and capacity, the women of exquisite person and exalted
mind. Was he the inferior of such people? By heaven, no!

He chanced once to be in Hyde Park on the occasion of some public
ceremony, and was brought to pause at the edge of a gaping plebeian
crowd, drawn up to witness the passing of aristocratic vehicles. Close
in front of him an open carriage came to a stop; in it sat, or rather
reclined, two ladies, old and young. Upon this picture Godwin fixed his
eyes with the intensity of fascination; his memory never lost the
impress of these lad