“You dream of the future,” she said to her brother. “I want to help the people now. A rich man--especially if he were a good business man--could lay the foundations of a new world here in Millsborough tomorrow. He wouldn’t have to wait for other people. He could build healthy pleasant houses for the workers. I’m not thinking of charity. That’s why I want the business man who would go to work sensibly and economically; turn them out at rents that the people could afford. I know it can be done. I’ve gone into it. He could build them clubs to take the place of the public-houses where they could meet each other, read and talk, play games, have concerts and dances. Why shouldn’t there be a theatre? Look at the money they spend on drink. It’s just to get away from their wretched homes. Offer them something worth having--something they’d really like and enjoy, and they’d spend their money on that. I wouldn’t have anything started that couldn’t be made to pay its own way in the long run. If it can’t do that it isn’t real. It isn’t going to last. He could open shops, sell food and clothes to the people at fair prices; could start factories that would pay decent wages and where the hands would share in the profits. It’s no use kind, well-meaning people attempting these things that don’t understand business. They make a muddle of it; and then everybody points to it and says, ‘See what a failure it was!’ It isn’t the dreamers--the theorists--that will change the world. Life’s a business; it wants the business man to put it right. He hasn’t got to wait for revolutions, nor even for Parliaments. He can take the world as it is, shape it to fine ends with the tools that are already in his hands. One day one of them will rise up and show the way. It just wants a big man to set it going, that’s all.” They had reached the outskirts of the town, where their ways parted. Anthony had promised his mother to be home to tea. The Tetteridges were away; and she was giving a party in the drawing-room to some poor folks who had been her neighbours in Snelling’s Row. Edward was a few steps ahead. Betty held out her hand. She was trembling and seemed as if she would fall. Anthony put an arm round her and held her up. “How strong you are,” she said.