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 ?' Oliver, aged but thirteen, assented, as he habitually did to any question which seemed to await an affirmative.
'They ought to be swept off the face of the earth!' pursued Godwin, sitting up in bed--for the dialogue took place about eleven o'clock at night.

'All the grown-up creatures, who can't speak proper English and don't know how to behave themselves, I'd transport them to the Falkland Islands,'-- this 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.