 What man of prominence, of
merit, at all like his own would ever seek her hand? The semblance of chivalry
which occasionally stirred within him was, in fact, quite inconsistent with his
reasoned view of things; the English working class has, on the whole, as little
of that quality as any other people in an elementary stage of civilisation. He
was a man, she a woman. A lady, to be sure, but then -
    After Mutimer, Alfred Waltham had probably more genuine satisfaction in the
ceremony than any one else present. Mr. Westlake he was not quite satisfied
with; there was a mildness and restraint about the style of the address which to
Alfred's taste smacked of feebleness; he was for Cambyses' vein. Still it
rejoiced him to hear the noble truths of democracy delivered as it were from the
bema. To a certain order of intellect the word addressed by the living voice to
an attentive assembly is always vastly impressive; when the word coincides with
private sentiment it excites enthusiasm. Alfred hated the aristocratic order of
things with a rabid hatred. In practice he could be as coarsely overbearing with
his social inferiors as that scion of the nobility - existing of course
somewhere - who bears the bell for feebleness of the pia mater; but that made
him none the less a sound Radical. In thinking of the upper classes he always
thought of Hubert Eldon, and that name was scarlet to him. Never trust the
thoroughness of the man who is a revolutionist on abstract principles; personal
feeling alone goes to the root of the matter.
    Many were the gentlemen to whom Alfred had the happiness of being introduced
in the course of the day. Among others was Mr. Keene the journalist. At the end
of a lively conversation Mr. Keene brought out a copy of the »Belwick
Chronicle,« that day's issue.
    »You'll find a few things of mine here,« he said. »Put it in your pocket,
and look at it afterwards. By-the-by, there is a paragraph marked; I meant it
for Mutimer. Never mind, give it him when you've done with it.«
    Alfred bestowed the paper in the breast pocket of his greatcoat, and did not
happen to think of it again till late that evening. His discovery of it at
length was not the only event of the day which came just too late for the
happiness of one with whose fortunes we are concerned.
    A little after dark, when the bell was ringing which summoned Mutimer's
workpeople to the tea provided for them,
