Born in Exile by George Gissing Read Free Book Online Page A

geographic precision
was a note 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
manufacturer—sparing of words, but with no unkindly face—requested
that Godwin should be sent to see him, and promised to do his best
to be of use. A talk with the boy strengthened his interest. He was
surprised at Godwin's knowledge of chemistry, pleased with his
general intelligence, and in the end offered to make a place for
him at the works, where, though for a year or two his earnings must
be small, he would gain experience likely to be of substantial use
to him. Godwin did not find the proposal distasteful; it brought a
change into his life, and the excitement of novelty; it flattered
him with the show of release from pupilage. To Mr. Moxey's he
went.
    The hours were not long, and it was understood that his
theoretical studies should continue in the evening. Godwin's home
was a very small house in a monotonous little street; a garret
served as bedroom for the two boys, also as the elder one's
laboratory. Servant Mrs. Peak had none. She managed everything
herself, as in the old Greenwich days, leaving Charlotte free to
work at her embroidery. Godwin took turns with Oliver at blacking
the shoes.
    As a matter of course the boys accompanied their mother each
Sunday morning to the parish church, and this ceremony was becoming
an insufferable tax on Godwin's patience. It was not only that he
hated the name of religion, and scorned with much fierceness all
who came in sympathetic contact therewith; the loss of time seemed
to him an oppressive injury, especially now that he began to