To London I went.

I found an apartment in a fairly unfashionable district of London—Fencrofts—where I moved in. My sister, Anna, was living with me, as our parents considered that in London she may have a better chance at finding somebody of high status to marry. She wouldn’t have agreed to come if that was the only reason—she felt that in the capital she might better be involved with politics and the campaigns that occupied her. I think it is fair to say that she also had some fondness for me, and would be loathe to be parted. I was certainly grateful for her company.

Shortly after arriving, I found work as a clerk in the counting house of an export business. The work was dull, and my colleagues were more mundane than anybody I had met before. But the hours required of me were not demanding.