‘Why, it’s this, Dick,’ he began at length. ‘And understand, to begin with, that I’ve got no complaint to make of nobody; it’s only _things_ as are awk’ard. It’s this way, my boy. When you fust of all come and told me about what I may call the great transformation scene, you said, “Now it ain’t a-goin’ to make no difference, Dan,” you said. Now wait till I’ve finished; I ain’t complainin’ of nobody. Well, and I tried to ‘ope as it wouldn’t make no difference, though I ‘ad my doubts. “Come an’ see us all just as usu’l,” you said. Well, I tried to do so, and three or four weeks I come reg’lar, lookin’ in of a Sunday night. But somehow it wouldn’t work; something ‘ad got out of gear. So I stopped it off. Then comes ‘Arry a-askin’ why I made myself scarce, sayin’ as th’ old lady and the Princess missed me. So I looked in again; but it was wuss than before, I saw I’d done better to stay away. So I’ve done ever since. Y’ understand me, Dick?’ Richard was not entirely at his ease in listening. He tried to smile, but failed to smile naturally. ‘I don’t see what you found wrong,’ he returned, abruptly. ‘Why, I’m a-tellin’ you, my boy, I didn’t find nothing wrong except in myself, as you may say. What’s the good o’ beatin’ about the bush? It’s just this ‘ere, Dick, my lad. When I come to the Square, you know very well who it was as I come to see. Well, it stands to reason as I can’t go to the new ‘ouse with the same thoughts as I did to the old. Mind, I can’t say as she’d ever a’ listened to me; it’s more than likely she wouldn’t But now that’s all over, and the sooner I forget all about it the better for me. And th’ only way to forget is to keep myself to myself,--see, Dick?’ The listener drummed with his fingers on the table, still endeavouring to smile. ‘I’ve thought about all this, Dan,’ he said at length, with an air of extreme frankness. ‘In fact, I meant to have a talk with you. Of course I can’t speak for my sister, and I don’t know that I can even speak to her about it, but one thing I can say, and that is that she’ll never be encouraged by me to think herself better than her old friends.’ He gave a laugh. ‘Why, that ‘ud be a good joke for a man in my position! What am I working for, if not to do away with distinctions between capital and labour? You’ll never have my advice to keep away, Do you suppose I shall cry off with Emma Vine just because I’ve and that you know. Why, who am I going to marry myself? got more money than I used to have?’ Daniel’s eye was upon him as he said these words, an eye at once reflective and scrutinising. Richard felt it, and laughed yet more scornfully.