however, to prevent his coming in contact with anyone she knew.
Andrew declared that he was at length prospering; he had started a
coffee-shop at Dalston, in north-east London, and positively urged a
proposal (well-meant, beyond doubt) that Godwin should be allowed to
come to him and learn the business. Since then the Londoner had once
again visited Twybridge, towards the end of Godwin's last
school-year. This time he spoke of himself less hopefully, and
declared a wish to transfer his business to some provincial town,
where he thought his metropolitan experience might be of great
value, in the absence of serious competition. It was not difficult
to discover a family likeness between Andrew's instability and the
idealism which had proved the ruin of Nicholas.

On this second occasion Godwin tried to escape a meeting with his
uncle. Unable to do so, he sat mute, replying to questions
monosyllabically. Mrs. Peak's shame and annoyance, in face of this
London-branded vulgarian, were but feeble emotions compared with
those of her son. Godwin hated the man, and was in dread lest any
school-fellow should come to know of such a connection. Yet delicacy
prevented his uttering a word on the subject to his mother. Mrs
Peak's silence after Andrew's departure made it uncertain how she
regarded the obligation of kindred, and in any such matter as this
the boy was far too sensitive to risk giving pain. But to his
brother Oliver he spoke.

'What is the brute to us? When I'm a man, let him venture to come
near me, and see what sort of a reception he'll get! I hate low,
uneducated people! I hate them worse than the filthiest vermin!--
don't you?'