Section 14 of Hard Times. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Zachary Brewster Geis, Greenbelt, Maryland, April 2007. Hard Times by Charles Dickens. Section 14, Book 2, Chapter 8. Chapter 8, Explosion. The next morning was too bright a morning for sleep, and James Harthouse rose early and sat in the pleasant bay window of his dressing room, smoking the rare tobacco that had had so wholesome an influence on his young friend. Reposing in the sunlight, with the fragrance of his eastern pipe about him, and the dreamy smoke vanishing into the air so rich and soft with summer odours, he reckoned up his advantages as an idle winner might count his gains. He was not at all bored for the time and could give his mind to it. He had established a confidence with her from which her husband was excluded. He had established a confidence with her that absolutely turned upon her indifference toward her husband, and the absence now and at all times of any congeniality between them. He had artfully but plainly assured her that he knew her heart in its last most delicate recesses. He had come so near to her through its tenderest sentiment. He had associated himself with that feeling, and the barrier behind which she lived had melted away, all very odd and very satisfactory. And yet he had not even now any earnest wickedness of purpose in him. Publicly and privately it were much better for the age in which he lived that he and the legion of whom he was one were designedly bad than indifferent and purposeless. It is the drifting iceberg setting with any current anywhere that wreck the ships. When the devil goeth about like a roaring lion, he goeth about in a shape by which few but savages and hunters are attracted. But when he is trimmed, smoothed, and varnished according to the mode, when he is a weary of vice and a weary of virtue, used up as to brimstone and used up as to bliss, then whether he take to the serving out of red tape or to the kindling of red fire, he is the very devil. So James Harthouse reclined in the window, indolently smoking, and reckoning up the steps he had taken on the road by which he happened to be travelling. The end to which it led was before him pretty plainly, but he troubled himself with no calculations about it. What will be, will be. As he had rather a long ride to take that day, for there was a public occasion to do at some distance which afforded a tolerable opportunity of going in for the grad-grind men, he dressed early and went down to breakfast. He was anxious to see if she had relapsed since the previous evening. No. He resumed where he had left off. There was a look of interest for him again. He got through the day as much or as little to his own satisfaction as was to be expected under the fatiguing circumstances, and came riding back at six o'clock. There was a sweep of some half-mile between the lodge and the house, and he was riding along at a foot-pace over the smooth gravel, once knickets, when Mr. Bounderby burst out of the shrubbery with such violence as to make his horse shy across the road. Hardhouse! cried Mr. Bounderby. Have you heard? Heard what? said Hardhouse, soothing his horse and inwardly favouring Mr. Bounderby with no good wishes. Then you haven't heard. I have heard you, and so is this brute. I have heard nothing else. Mr. Bounderby, red and hot, planted himself in the centre of the path before the horse's head to explode his bombshell with more effect. The banks robbed! You don't mean it. Robbed last night, sir, robbed in an extraordinary manner, robbed with a false key. Of much? Mr. Bounderby, in his desire to make the most of it, really seemed mortified by being obliged to reply, Why, no, not of very much, but it might have been. Of how much? Oh, as a sum, if you stick to a sum of not more than a hundred and fifty pound, said Bounderby with impatience, but it's not the sum. It's the fact. It's the fact of the bank being robbed. That's the important circumstance. I am surprised you don't see it. My dear Bounderby, said James, dismounting, and giving his bridle to his servant, I do see it, and am as overcome as you can possibly desire me to be by the spectacle afforded to my mental view.  Thank you, replied Bounderby in a short, ungracious manner, but I tell you what, it might have been twenty thousand pound. I suppose it might. Suppose it might, by the Lord you may suppose so, by George, said Mr. Bounderby, with sundry menacing nods and shakes of his head. It might have been twice twenty. There's no knowing what it would have been or wouldn't have been, as it was, but for the fellows being disturbed. Louisa had come up now, and Mrs. Sparsit and Bitzer. Here's Tom Gradgrine's daughter knows pretty well what it might have been if you don't, blustered Bounderby. Dropped, sir, as if she was shot when I told her. Never knew her do such a thing before. Does her credit under the circumstances in my opinion? She still looked faint and pale. James Harthouse begged her to take his arm, and as they moved on very slowly asked her how the robbery had been committed. Why, I am going to tell you, said Bounderby, irritably giving his arm to Mrs. Sparsit.  I have already had the honour. Very well, and this young man, Bitzer, you saw him too on the same occasion? Mr. Harthouse inclined his head in ascent, and Bitzer knuckled his forehead. Very well, they live at the bank. You know they live at the bank, perhaps? Very well. Yesterday afternoon, at the close of business hours, everything was put away as usual. In the iron room that this young fellow sleeps outside of, there was, never mind how much, in the little safe in young Tom's closet, the safe used for petty purposes, there was a hundred and fifty odd pound. A hundred and fifty-four seven one, said Bitzer. Come, retorted Bounderby, stopping to wheel round upon him, let's have none of your interruptions.  I didn't snore myself when I was your age, let me tell you, I hadn't vitals enough to snore, and I didn't four seven one, not if I knew it. Bitzer knuckled his forehead again in a sneaking manner, and seemed at once particularly impressed and depressed by the instance last given of Mr. Bounderby's moral abstinence. A hundred and fifty odd pound, resumed Mr. Bounderby. That sum of money young Tom locked in his safe, not very strong safe, but that's no matter now, everything was left all right, some time in the night, while this young fellow snored. Mrs. Sparsit, ma'am, you say you have heard him snore? Sir, returned Mrs. Sparsit, I cannot say that I have heard him precisely snore, and therefore must not make that statement, but on winter evenings when he has fallen asleep at his table, I have heard him or what I should prefer to describe as partially choke. I have heard him on such occasions produce sounds of a nature similar to what may be sometimes heard in Dutch clocks. Not, said Mrs. Sparsit, with a lofty sense of giving strict evidence, that I would convey any imputation on his moral character, far from it I have always considered bits or a young man of the most upright principle, and to that I beg to bear my testimony. Well, said the exasperated Bounderby, while he was snoring or choking or Dutch clocking or something or other, being asleep, some fellow somehow whether previously concealed in the house or not remains to be seen, got to young Tom Safe, forced it, and abstracted the contents. Being then disturbed they made off, letting themselves out at the main door and double locking it again. It was double locked, and the key under Mrs. Sparsit's pillow, with a false key which was picked up in the street near the bank, about twelve o'clock today. No alarm takes place till this chat bit, sir, turns out this morning and begins to open and prepare the offices for business. Then looking at Tom Safe, he sees the door ajar, and finds the lock forced, and the money gone. Where is Tom, by the by? asked Harthouse, glancing round. He has been helping the police, said Bounderby, and stays behind at the bank. I wish these fellows had tried to rob me when I was at his time of life. They would have been out of pocket if they had invested eighteen pence in the job, I can tell them that. Is anybody suspected? Suspected? I should think there was somebody suspected. Eat, God! said Bounderby, relinquishing Mrs. Sparsit's arm to wipe his heated head. Desire, Bounderby, of Coke-town is not to be plundered, and nobody suspected. No, thank you! Might Mr. Harthouse inquire who was suspected? Well, said Bounderby, stopping and facing about to confront them all, I'll tell you, it's not to be mentioned everywhere, it's not to be mentioned anywhere. In order that the scoundrels concerned, there's a gang of them, may be thrown off their guard, so take this in confidence. Now, wait a bit. Mr. Bounderby wiped his head again. What should you say, too? Here he violently exploded. To a hand being in it! I hope, said Harthouse lazily, not our friend Blackpot. Say, pool instead of pot, sir, returned Bounderby, and that's the man. Louisa faintly uttered some word of incredulity and surprise. Oh, yes, I know, said Bounderby, immediately catching at the sound. I know, I'm used to that, I know all about it. They are the finest people in the world these fellows are, they have got the gift of the gab they have, they only want to have their rights explained to them they do, but I tell you what, show me a dissatisfied hand, and I'll show you a man that's fit for anything bad, I don't care what it is. Another of the popular fictions of Coke-town, some pains had been taken to disseminate and which some people really believed. But I am acquainted with these chaps, said Bounderby. I can read them off like books. Mrs. Sparsit, ma'am, I appeal to you. What warning did I give that fellow the first time he set foot in the house when the express object of his visit was to know how he could knock religion over and flaw the established church? Mrs. Sparsit, in point of high connections, you are on a level with the aristocracy. Did I say, or did I not say to that fellow, you can't hide the truth from me, you are not the kind of fellow I like, you'll come to know good. Assuredly, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, you did in a highly impressive manner give him such an admonition. When he shocked you, ma'am," said Bounderby, when he shocked your feelings. Yes, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit with a meek shake of her head, he certainly did so. I do not mean to say, but that my feelings may be weaker on such points, more foolish if the term is preferred than they might have been if I had always occupied my present position. Mr. Bounderby stared with a bursting pride at Mr. Harthouse as much as to say, I am the proprietor of this female and she's worth your attention, I think. Then resumed his discourse. You can recall for yourself, Harthouse, what I said to him when you saw him. I didn't mince the matter with him. Never merely with him, I know him. Very well, sir.  What did he do before he went? What do you say? Mr. Bounderby, with his hat in his hand, gave a beat upon the crown at every little division of his sentences as if it were tambourine. To his being seen, night after night, watching the bank, to his lurking about there, after dark, to its striking Mrs. Sparsit, that he could be lurking for no good, to her calling Bitzer's attention to him and their both taking notice of him, and to its appearing on inquiry today that he was also noticed by the neighbours. Having come to the climax, Mr. Bounderby, like an oriental dancer, put his tambourine on his head. Suspicious, said James Harthouse, certainly. I think so, sir, said Bounderby, with a defiant nod. I think so. But there are more of a minute. There is an old woman. One never hears of these things till the mischief's done. All sorts of defects are found out in the stable door after the horse is stolen. There's an old woman, turns up now. An old woman who seems to have been flying into town on a broomstick every now and then. She watches the place a whole day before this fellow begins, and on the night when you saw him, she steals away with him and holds a council with him. I suppose to make her report on going off duty and be damned to her. There was such a person in the room that night, and she shrunk from observation, thought Louisa. This is not all of them, even as we already know them, said Bounderby, with many nods of hidden meaning. But I have said enough for the present. You'll have the goodness to keep it quiet and mention it to no one. It may take time, but we shall have them. It's policy to give them line enough, and there's no objection to that. Of course they will be punished with the utmost rigor of the law, as notice boards observe, replied James Harthouse, and serve them right. Fellows who go in for banks must take the consequences. If there were no consequences, we should all go in for banks. He had gently taken Louisa's parasol from her hand and had put it up for her, and she walked under its shade, though the sun did not shine there. For the present Lou Bounderby, said her husband, here's Mrs. Sparsett to look after. Mrs. Sparsett's nerves have been acted upon by this business, and she'll stay here a day or two, so make her comfortable. Thank you very much, sir, that discreet lady observed, but pray do not let my comfort be a consideration. Anything will do for me. It soon appeared that if Mrs. Sparsett had a failing in her association with that domestic establishment, it was that she was so excessively regardless of herself and regardless of others as to be a nuisance. On being shown her chamber she was so dreadfully sensible of its comforts as to suggest the inference that she would have preferred to have passed the night on the mangle in the laundry. True, the powlers and the scaggardses were accustomed to splendor. But it is my duty to remember—Mrs. Sparsett was fond of observing with a lofty grace, particularly when any of the domestics were present— that what I was, I am no longer. Indeed—said she—if I could altogether cancel the remembrance that Mr. Sparsett was a powler or that I myself am related to the Scadger's family, or if I could even revoke the fact and make myself a person of common descent and ordinary connections, I would gladly do so. I should think it under existing circumstances right to do so. The same her mythical state of mind led to her renunciation of made dishes and wines at dinner, until fairly commanded by Mr. Boundaryby to take them, when she said, Indeed you are very good, sir, and departed from a resolution of which she had made rather formal and public announcement to wait for the simple mutton. She was likewise deeply apologetic for wanting the salt and, feeling amably bound to bear out Mr. Boundaryby to the fullest extent in the testimony he had borne to her nerves, occasionally sat back in her chair and silently wept, at which periods a tear of large dimensions, like a crystal earring, might be observed, or rather, must be, for it insisted on public notice, sliding down her Roman nose. But Mrs. Sparsit's greatest point, first and last, was her determination to pity Mr. Boundaryby. There were occasions when in looking at him she was involuntarily moved to shake her head as who would say, Alas, poor Yorick! After allowing herself to be betrayed into these evidences of emotion, she would force a lambent brightness and would be fitfully cheerful and would say, You have still good spirits, sir, I am thankful to find. And would appear to hail it as a blessed dispensation that Mr. Boundaryby bore up as he did. One idiosyncrasy for which she often apologized, she found it excessively difficult to conquer. She had a curious propensity to call Mrs. Boundaryby Miss Gradgrind and yielded to it some three or four score times in the course of the evening. Her repetition of this mistake covered Mrs. Sparsit with modest confusion, but indeed she said, It seems so natural to say Miss Gradgrind, whereas to persuade herself that the young lady whom she had had the happiness of knowing from a child could be really and truly Mrs. Boundaryby she found almost impossible. It was a further singularity of this remarkable case that the more she thought about it the more impossible it appeared. The differences, she observed, being such. In the drawing room after dinner Mr. Boundaryby tried the case of the robbery, examined the witnesses, made notes of the evidence, found the suspected persons guilty and sentenced them to the extreme punishment of law. That done Bitzer was dismissed to town with instructions to recommend Tom to come home by the mail train. When candles were brought Mrs. Sparsit murmured, Don't be low sir, pray let me see you cheerful sir as I used to do. Mr. Boundaryby, upon whom these consolations had begun to produce the effect of making him in a bullheaded blundering way sentimental, sighed like some large sea animal. I cannot bear to see you so sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. Try and hand it back gammon sir, as you used to do when I had the honour of living under your roof. I haven't played back gammon ma'am, said Mr. Boundaryby, since that time. No sir," said Mrs. Sparsit soothingly, I'm aware that you have not. I remember that Miss Gradgrine takes no interest in the game but I shall be happy sir if you will condescend. They played near a window, opening on the garden. It was a fine night, not moonlight, but sultry and fragrant. Louisa and Mr. Harthouse strolled out into the garden where their voices could be heard in the stillness, though not what they said. Mrs. Sparsit, from her place at the back gammon board, was constantly straining her eyes to pierce the shadows without. What's the matter ma'am, said Mr. Boundaryby, you don't see a fire, do you? Oh dear no sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, I was thinking of you. What have you got to do with the dew, ma'am," said Mr. Boundaryby. It's not myself sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. I am fearful of Miss Gradgrine's taking cold. She never takes cold, said Mr. Boundaryby. Really sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, and was affected with a cough in her throat. When the time drew near for retiring, Mr. Boundaryby took a glass of water. Oh sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, not your sherry warm with lemon peel and nutmeg. Why, I've got out of the habit of taking it now, ma'am," said Mr. Boundaryby. The mall's the pity sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, you are losing all of your good old habits. Cheer up sir, if Miss Gradgrine will permit me, I will offer to make it for you as I have often done. Miss Gradgrine readily permitting Mrs. Sparsit to do anything she pleased. That considerate lady made the beverage and handed it to Mr. Boundaryby. It will do your good sir. It will warm your heart. It is the sort of thing you want and ought to take sir." And when Mr. Boundaryby said, Your health, ma'am," she answered with great feeling, Thank you sir, the same to you, and happiness also. Finally she wished him good night with great pathos, and Mr. Boundaryby went to bed with a maudlin persuasion that he had been crossed in something tender, though he could not for his life have mentioned what it was. Long after Louisa had undressed and lain down she watched and waited for her brothers coming home. That could hardly be she knew until an hour past midnight, but in the country silence, which did anything but calm the trouble of her thoughts, time lagged wearily. At last when the darkness and stillness had seemed for hours to thicken one another, she heard at the bell at the gate she felt as though she would have been glad that it rang on until daylight, but it ceased, and the circles of its last sound spread out fainter and wider in the air and all was dead again. She waited yet some quarter of an hour as she judged, then she arose, put on a loose robe, and went out of her room in the dark and up the staircase to her brother's room. His door being shut she softly opened it and spoke to him, approaching his bed with a noiseless step. She kneeled down beside it, passed her arm over his neck, and drew his face to hers. She knew that he only feigned to be asleep, but she said nothing to him. He started by and by as if he were just then awakened and asked who that was and what was the matter. Tom, have you anything to tell me? If ever you loved me in your life and have anything concealed from everyone besides, tell it to me. I don't know what you mean, Lou. You've been dreaming. My dear brother, she laid her head down on his pillow and her hair flowed over him as if she would hide him from everyone but herself. Is there nothing you have to tell me? Is there nothing you can tell me if you will? You can tell me nothing that will change me. Oh, Tom, tell me the truth. I don't know what you mean, Lou. As you lie here alone, my dear, in the melancholy night, so you must lie somewhere one night, when even I, if I am living, then shall have left you. As I am here beside you barefoot, unclothed, undistinguishable in darkness, so must I lie through all the night of my decay until I am dust. In the name of that time, Tom, tell me the truth now. What is it you want to know? You may be certain, in the energy of her love, she took him to her bosom as if he were a child, that I will not reproach you. You may be certain that I will be compassionate and true to you. You may be certain that I will save you at whatever cost. Oh, Tom, have you nothing to tell me? Whisper very softly, say only yes, and I shall understand you. She turned her ear to his lips, but he remained doggedly silent. Not a word, Tom. How can I say yes, or how can I say no, when I don't know what you mean? Lou, you are a brave, kind girl, worthy I begin to think of a better brother than I am, but I have nothing more to say.  You are tired, she whispered presently, more in her usual way. Yes, I am quite tired out. You have been so hurried and disturbed today, have any fresh discoveries been made? Only those you have heard of from him. Tom, have you said to anyone that we made a visit to those people and that we saw those three together? No. Didn't you yourself particularly ask me to keep it quiet when you asked me to go there with you? Yes, but I did not know then what was going to happen. Nor I neither, how could I? He was very quick upon her with this retort. ought I to say after what has happened, said his sister, standing by the bed, she had gradually withdrawn herself and risen, that I made that visit? Should I say so? Must I say so? Good heavens, Lou, returned her brother, you were not in the habit of asking my advice. Say what you like. If you keep it to yourself, I shall keep it to myself. If you disclose it, there is an end of it. It was too dark for either to see the other's face, but each seemed very attentive and to consider before speaking. Tom, do you believe the man I gave the money to is really implicated in this crime? I don't know. I don't see why he shouldn't be. He seemed to me an honest man. Another person may seem to you dishonest and yet not be so. There was a pause, for he had hesitated and stopped. In short, resumed Tom, as if he had made up his mind, if you come to that perhaps I was so far from being altogether in his favour, that I took him outside the door to tell him quietly, that I thought he might consider himself very well off to get such a windfall as he had got from my sister, and I hoped he would make good use of it. You remember whether I took him out or not, I say nothing against the man. He may be a very good fellow, for anything I know. I hope he is. Was he offended by what you said? No, he took it pretty well, he was civil enough. Where are you, Lou? He sat up in bed and kissed her. Good night, my dear, good night. You have nothing more to tell me? No, what should I have?  I wouldn't have you do that to-night, Tom, of all the nights in your life. Many and much happier as I hope they will be. Thank you, my dear Lou. I am so tired that I am sure I wonder I don't say anything to get to sleep.  Kissing her again, he turned around, drew the coverlet over his head, and lay as still as if that time had come by which she had adjourned him. She stood for some time at the bedside before she slowly moved away. She stopped at the door, looked back when she had opened it, and asked him if he had called her. But he lay still, and she softly closed the door and returned to her room. Then the wretched boy looked cautiously up and found her gone. Crept out of bed, fastened his door, and threw himself upon his pillow again, tearing his hair, morosely crying, grudgingly loving her hatefully but impenitently spurning himself and no less hatefully and unprofitably spurning all the good in the world. Section 14 Section 15 of Our Times This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Gem of Life. Our Times by Charles Dickens. Section 15, chapters 9 and 10. Chapter 9, hearing the last of it. Mrs. Balsett, lying by to recover the tone of her nerves in Mr. Boundaby's retreat, kept such a sharp lookout night and day under her corollonian eyebrows that her eyes, like a couple of lighthouses on an ironbound coast, might have worn all prudent mariners from that bold rock, herbal Roman nose in the dark and raggy region in its neighborhood but for the placidity of her manner. Although it was hard to believe that her retiring for the night could be anything but a form, so severely wide awake were those classical eyes of hers and so impossible that it seemed that her rigid nose could yield to any relaxing influence, yet her manner of sitting, smoothing her uncomfortable, not to say gritty mittens, they were constructed of a cool fabric, like a meat safe, or of ambling to unknown places of destination with her foot in her cotton stirrup was a perfectly serene that most observers would have been constrained to suppose her a dove embodied by some freak of nature in the earthly tabernacle of a bird of the hook-peaked order. She was the most wonderful woman for prowling about the house. How she got from story to story was a mystery beyond solution. A lady so decorous in herself and so highly connected was not to be suspected of dropping over the banisters or sliding down them, yet her extraordinary facility of locomotion suggested the wild idea. Another noticeable circumstance in Mrs. Parsett was that she was never hurried. She would shoot consummate velocity from the roof to the hall, yet would be in full possession of her breath and dignity on the moment of her arrival there. Neither was she ever seen by human vision to go at a great pace. She took very kindly to Mr. Ardus and had some pleasant conversation with him soon after her arrival. She made him a stately curtsy in the garden one morning before breakfast. It appears but yesterday, sir, said Mrs. Parsett, that I had the honor of receiving you at the bank when you were so good as to wish to be made acquainted by Mr. Boundaby's address. An occasion, I am sure, not to be forgotten by myself in the course of ages, said Mr. Ardus, inclining his head to Mrs. Parsett with the most indolent of all possible hours. We live in a singular world, sir, said Mrs. Parsett. I have had the honor, by a coincidence of which I am proud, to have made a remark similar in effect, though not so epigrammatically expressed. A singular world, I would say, sir, pursued Mrs. Parsett after acknowledging the compliment with a drooping of a dark eyebrows, not altogether so mild in its expression as her voice was in its dulcet tones. As regards the intimacies we form at one time with individuals we were quite ignorant of at another, I recall, sir, that on that occasion you went so far as to say you were actually apprehensive of Mrs. Gragrand. Your memory does me more honor than my insignificance deserves. I availed myself of your obliging hints to correct my timidity, and it is unnecessary to add that they were perfectly accurate. Mrs. Parsett's talent for, in fact, for anything requiring accuracy with a combination of strength of mind and family is too habitually developed to admit of any question. He was almost falling asleep over this compliment. It took him so long to get through, and his mind wandered so much in the course of its execution. You found Mrs. Gragrand. I really cannot call her Mrs. Boundaby. It's very absurd of me, as youthful as I described her. Asked Mr. Parsett, sweetly, you drew a portrait perfectly, said Mr. Arnass. Presented a dead image. Very engaging, sir, said Mrs. Parsett, causing her mitten slowly to revolve over one another. Highly so. It used to be considered, said Mrs. Parsett, that Mrs. Gragrand was wanting in animation, but I confess she appears to me considerably and strikingly improved in that respect. And indeed here is Mr. Boundaby, cried Mrs. Parsett, nodding her head a great many times, as if she had been talking and thinking of no one else. How do you find yourself this morning, sir? Pray let us see you cheerful, sir.  So when Mrs. Parsett said with forced lightness of art, you want a breakfast, sir, but I daresay Mrs. Gragrand will soon be here to preside at the table. Mr. Boundaby replied, if I waited to be taken care of by my wife, ma'am, I believe you know pretty well I should wait till doomsday, so I'll trouble you to take charge of the teapot. Mrs. Parsett complied and assumed her old position at table. This again made the excellent woman vastly sentimental. She was so humble with all that when Louisa appeared, she rose, protesting she never could think of sitting in that place under existing circumstances. Often, as she had had the honour of making Mr. Boundaby's breakfast before Mrs. Gragrand, she begged pardon. She meant to say Mrs. Boundaby. She hoped to be excused, but she really could not get it right yet, though she trusted to become familiar with it by and by, had assumed her present position. It was only, she observed, because Mrs. Gragrand happened to be a little late and Mr. Boundaby's time was so very precious and she knew it of old to be so essential that he should breakfast to the moment that she had taken the liberty of complying with his request long as his will had been allotted. There, stop where you are, ma'am, said Mr. Boundaby. Stop where you are. Mrs. Boundaby will be very glad to be relieved of the trouble, I believe. Don't say that, sir, Mrs. Balsett, almost with severity, because that is very unkind to Mrs. Boundaby. And to be unkind is not to be used, sir. You may set your mind at rest, ma'am. You can take it very quietly. Can't you, Lou? said Mr. Boundaby in a blustering way to his wife. Of course, it is of no moment. Why should it be of any importance to me? Why should it be of any importance to anyone, Mrs. Balsett? Ma'am, said Mr. Boundaby, swelling with a sense of slight. You attach too much importance to these things, ma'am. By George, you will be corrupted in some of your notions here. You are old fashioned, ma'am. You are behind Tom Gradgren's children's time. What is the matter with you? asked Louisa, coldly surprised. What has given you offence? Offence, repeated Boundaby. Do you suppose, if there was any offence given me, I shouldn't name it and request to have it corrected? I am a straightforward man, I believe. I don't go beating about for side wins.  I have never made that objection to you, either as a child or as a woman. I don't understand what you would have. Have. Return, Mr. Boundaby. Nothing. Otherwise, don't you, Lou Boundaby. Note thoroughly well that I, Joshua Boundaby of Cochrane, would have it. She looked at him as he struck the table and made the teacups ring with a proud color in her face. That was a new change, Mr. Hardhouse thought. You are incomprehensible this morning, said Louisa. Pray, take no further trouble to explain yourself. I am not curious to know your meaning. What does it matter?  But from this day, this both had action upon Mr. Boundaby through Louisa and James Hardhouse more together and strengthened the dangerous alienation from her husband and confidence against him with another into which she had fallen by degrees so fine that she could not retrace them if she tried. But whether she ever tried or no, lay hidden in her own closed heart. Mrs.  Yet it is an indubitable fact within the cognizance of this history that five minutes after he had left the house in the self-same hat, the same descendant of the scantuses in connection of matrimony of the powerless shook her right hand mitten at his portrait, made a contemptuous grimace at that quirk of art and said, serve you right, you noodle, and I am glad of it. Mr. Boundaby had not been long gone when Bitzer appeared. Bitzer had come down by train, shrieking and rattling over the long line of arches that bestowed the wild country of past and present culpits with an express from Stone Lodge. It was a hasty note to inform Louisa that Mrs. Gradrin to lay very ill. She had never been well within her daughter's knowledge, but she had declined within the last few days, had continued sinking all through the night, and was now as nearly dead as her limited capacity of being in any state that implied the ghost of an intention to get out of it, allowed a company by the lightest of porters fit colorless there to her death's door when Mrs. Gradrin knocked. Louisa rumble took Oaken over the culpits past and present, and was whirled into its smoky jaws. She dismissed the messenger to his own devices and rode away to her old home. She had seldom been there since her marriage. Her father was usually sifting and sifting at his elementary cinder heap in London without being observed to turn up many previous articles among the rubbish and was still odd-added in the national dust jarred. Her mother had taken it rather as a disturbance than otherwise to be visited as she relied upon her server. Young people, Louisa felt herself all unfit for. Sissy, she had never softened Oaken since the night when the strollers' child had raised her eyes to look at Mr. Bounderby's intended wife. She had no inducements to go back and had rarely gone. Neither, as she approached her old home now, did any of the best influences of old home descend upon her. The dreams of childhood, its airy fables, its graceful, beautiful, humane, impossible endornments of the world beyond so good to be believed in once, so good to be remembered when outgrown, for then the least among them rises to the stature of a great charity in the heart. Suffering little children to come into the midst of it and to keep with their pure hands a garden in the stony ways of this world, wherein it were better for all the children of Adam that they should often as son themselves simple and trustful and not worldly wise, what had she to do with these remembrances of how she had journeyed to the little that she knew by the enchanted roads of what she and millions of innocent creatures had hoped and imagined of our first coming-upon reason through the tender light of fancy she had seen it a beneficent guard deferring to gods as great as itself not a grim idol, cruel and cold with its victims bound, ironed and foot but its big dumb shape set her for the sightless stare never to be moved by anything but so many calculated tons of leverage what had she to do with these her remembrances of home and childhood were remembrances of the drying up of every spring and fountain in her young heart as it gushed out the golden waters were not there they were flowing for the fertilization of the land where grapes are gathered from thorns and figs from thistles she went with a heavy hardened kind of sorrow upon her into the house and into her mother's room since the time of her leaving home Sissy had lived with the rest of the family Sissy was at her mother's side and Jane, her sister now ten or twelve years old was in the room there was great trouble before it could be made known to Mrs. Gratgrind that her eldest child was there she reclined, propped up from her abbot on a couch as nearly in her old usual attitude as anything so helpless could be kept in she had positively refused to take to her bed on the ground that if she did she would never hear the last of it her feeble voice sounded so far away in a bundle of shawls and the sound of another voice addressing her seemed to take such a long time in getting down to her ears that she might have been lying at the bottom of a well the poor lady was nearer truth than she ever had been which had much to do with it I'm being told that Mrs. Boundaby was there she replied, at cross purposes that she had never called him by that name since he married Louisa that bending her choice of an objectionable name she had called him J and that she could not at present depart from that regulation not being yet provided with a permanent substitute Louisa had sat by her for some minutes and had spoken to her often before she arrived to clear understanding who it was she then seemed to come to it all at once well my dear, said Mrs. Gradgrind and I hope you are going on satisfactorily to yourself it was all your father's doing he set his heart upon it and he ought to know I want to hear of you mother and not of myself you want to hear of me my dear that's something new I am sure when anybody wants to hear of me not at all well Louisa very faint and giddy are you in pain dear mother I think there is a pain somewhere in the room said Mrs. Gradgrind but I couldn't positively say that I have got it after this strange speech she lay silent for some time Louisa holding her hand could feel no pulse but kissing it could see a slight thin thread of life in fluttering motion you very seldom see your sister said Mrs. Gradgrind she grows like you look at her Sissy bring her here she was brought and stood with her hand Louisa had observed her with her arm around Sissy's neck and she felt the difference of this approach do you see the likeness Louisa yes mother I should think I like me but hey yes I always say so Mrs. Gradgrind cried with unexpected quickness and that reminds me to speak to you my dear Sissy my good girl leave us alone a minute Louisa had relinquished the hand had thought that her sisters was a better and brighter face than ours had ever been had seen in it not without a rising feeling of resentment even in that place and at that time something of the gentleness of the other face in the room the sweet face with the trusting eyes by the rich dark air left alone with her mother Louisa saw her lying with an awful lull upon her face like one who was floating away upon some great water all resistance over content to be carried down the stream she put the shadow of her hand to her lips again and recalled her you were going to speak to me mother yes to be sure my dear you know your father is almost always away now and therefore I must write to him about it about what mother don't be troubled about what you must remember my dear that whenever I have said anything on any subject I have never heard the last of it and consequently that I have long left off saying anything I can hear you mother but it was only by dint of bending down to her ear and at the same time attentively watching the lips as they moved that you could link such faint and broken sounds into any chain of connection you learnt a great deal Louisa and so did your brother allergies of all kinds from morning to night if there is any ology left of any description that has not been worn to rags in this house all I can say is I hope I shall never hear its name I can hear you mother when you have strength to go on this to keep her from floating away but there is something not an ology at all that your father has missed or forgotten Louisa I don't know what it is I have often sat with Susie near me and thought about it I shall never get its name now but your father may it makes me restless I want to write to him to find out for God's sake what it is give me a pen give me a pen even the power of restlessness was gone except from the poor head which we just earned from side to side she fancied however that her request had been complied with and that the pen she could not have held was in her hand it matters little what figures of wonderful no meaning she began to trace upon her wrappers the hand soon stopped in the midst of them the light that had always been feeble and dim behind the weak transparency went out and even Mrs. Gradgrind emerged from the shadow in which man walketh and disquieteth himself in vain took upon of the dread solemnity of the sages and patriarchs End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 In our case Mrs. Bossett's nose being slow to recover their tone the worthy woman made a stay of some weeks in duration at Mr. Boundaby's retreat where notwithstanding her anchorite turn of mind based upon her becoming consciousness of her altered station she resigned herself with noble fortitude to lodging as one may say in clover and feeding on the fat of the land during the old term of this recess and the guardianship of the bank Mrs. Bossett was a pattern of consistency continuing to take such pity on Mr. Boundaby to his face as is rarely taken on man and to call his portrait a noodle to its face with the greatest acrimony and contempt Mr. Boundaby having got into his explosive composition that Mrs. Bossett was a highly superior woman to perceive that he had that general cross upon him in his desserts for he had not yet settled what it was and further that Louisa would have objected to her as a frequent visitor if it had comported with his greatness that she should object to anything he chose to do resolve not to lose sight of Mrs. Bossett easily so when her nerves were strung up to the pitch of again consuming sweetbreads and solitude he said to her at the dinner table on the day before her departure I tell you what ma'am you shall come down here over Saturday while the fine weather lasts and stay till Monday to which Mrs. Bossett returned in effect though not of the Mohammedan persuasion to hear is to obey now Mrs. Bossett was not a poetical woman but she took an idea in the nature fancy into her head much watching of Louisa and much consequent observation of her impenetrable demeanor which keenly wetted and sharpened Mrs. Bossett's edge must have given her, as it were a lift in the way of inspiration she erected in her mind a mighty staircase with a dark pit of shame and ruin at the bottom and down those stairs from day to day and hour to hour she saw Louisa coming it became the business of Mrs. Bossett's life to look up at her staircase and to watch Louisa coming down sometimes slowly sometimes quickly sometimes several steps at one bout sometimes stopping never turning back if she had once turned back it might have been the death of Mrs. Bossett in spleen and grief she had been descending steadily when Mr. Bound-to-be issued the weekly invitation recorded above Mrs. Bossett was in good spirits and inclined to be conversational and Fraser said she if I may venture to ask a question appertaining to any subject on which you shall reserve which is indeed hardy in me for I well know you have a reason for everything you do have you received intelligence respecting the robbery why ma'am no not yet under the circumstances I didn't expect it yet Rome wasn't built in a day ma'am very true sir said Mrs. Bossett shaking her head nor yet in a week ma'am no indeed sir return Mrs. Bossett with a gentle mel and garly upon her in a similar manner ma'am said Bound-to-be you can wait you know if Romulus and Remus could wait Josiah Bound-to-be can wait they were better off in their youth than I was however they had a she-wolf for us I had only a she-wolf for a grandmother she didn't give any milk ma'am she gave bruises she was a regular Alderney at that Mrs. Bossett sighed and shuddered no ma'am continued Bound-to-be I have not heard anything more about it it's in Anne though and young Dom who rather present something new for him he hadn't the schooling I had is helping my injunction is keep it quiet and let it seem to blow over do what you like under the rose but don't give a sign of what you're about or half a hundred of them will combine together and get this fellow who has bolted out of reach for good keep it quiet and the thieves will grow in confidence by little and little and we shall have them very sagacious indeed said Mrs. Bossett very interesting the old woman you mentioned sir the old woman I mentioned ma'am said Bound-to-be cutting the matter short as it were nothing to boast about is not laid old of but she may take her oath she will be if that is any satisfaction to her villainous old mind in the meantime ma'am I am of opinion if you ask me my opinion that the less she has talked about the better the same evening Mrs. Bossett in her chamber window resting from her packing operations looked towards her great staircase and saw Louisa still descending she sat by Mr. Otto's in an alcove in the garden talking very low he stood leaning over as they whispered together and his face almost touched her air like white said Mrs. Bossett straining her hawk's eyes to the utmost Mrs. Bossett was too distant to hear a word of their discourse or even to know that they were speaking softly otherwise than from the expression of their figures and what they said was this you recollect the man Mr. Hardhouse oh perfectly his face and his manner and what he said perfectly and an infinitely dreary person he appeared to me to be lengthy and prosy in the extreme it was knowing to hold forth in the humble virtue school of eloquence but I assure you I thought at the time my good fellow you are overdoing this it has been very difficult to me to think ill of that man my dear Louisa as Tom says which he never did say you know no good of the fellow nor of any other such person how can I as you returned with more of her first manner on her than he had seen lately when I know nothing of them men or women my dear Louisa then consent to receive the submissive representation of your devoted friend who knows something of several varieties of his excellent fellow creatures for excellent they are I am quite ready to believe in spite of such little foibles as always helping themselves to what they can get hold of this fellow docs well every fellow docs he professes morality well all sorts of humbugs profess morality from mouths of garments to mouths of correction there is a general profession of morality except among our people it really is that exception which makes our people quite reviving you saw and heard the case here was one of the fluffy glasses pulled up extremely short by my esteemed friend Mr. Boundaby who as we know is not possessed of that delicacy which would soften so tight a hand the member of the fluffy glasses was injured exasperated left the house grumbling met somebody who proposed to him to go in for some share in this bank business went in something in his pocket which had nothing in it before and relieved his mind extremely really he would have been an uncommon instead of a common fellow if he had not availed himself of such an opportunity or he may have originated it altogether if he had the cleverness I almost feel as though it must be bad in me return Louisa after sitting thoughtful a while to be so ready to agree with you enlightened in my heart by what you say I only say what is reasonable nothing worse I have talked it over with my friend Tom more than once of course I remain on terms of perfect confidence with Tom and he is quite of my opinion and I am quite of his will you walk they strolled away among the lanes beginning to be indistinct in the twilight little thought how she was going down, down, down Mrs. Bossett's staircase night and day Mrs. Bossett kept it standing when Louisa had arrived at the bottom and disappeared into the gulf it might fall in upon her if it would but until then there it was to be a building before Mrs. Bossett's eyes and there Louisa always was upon it and always gliding down Mrs. Bossett saw James Hardale's come and go she heard of him here and there she saw the changes of the face he had studied she too remarked to the nicety how and when it clouded how and when it cleared she kept her black eyes wide open with no touch of pity with no touch of compunction all absorbed in interest in the interest of seeing her ever drawing down to Steyer nearer and nearer to the bottom of this new giant staircase with all her deference for Mr. Boundby as country distinguished from his portrait Mrs. Bossett had not the smallest intention of interrupting the descent eager to see it accomplished and yet patient she waited for the last fall as for the ripeness and fullness of the harvest of her hopes hushed in expectancy her weary gaze upon the stairs and seldom so much as darkly shook her right mitten with her fist in it at the figure coming down end of chapter 10 end of section 15 recording by Gem of Life section 16 of Hard Times this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Deborah Lynn Hard Times by Charles Dickens section 16 chapters 11 and 12 chapter 11 lower and lower the figure descended the great stairs steadily, steadily always verging like a weight in deep water black gulf at the bottom Mr. Gradgrind apprised of his wife's decease made an expedition from London and buried her in a business-like manner he then returned with promptitude to the National Cinderheap and resumed his sifting for the odds and ends he wanted and his throwing of the dust about into the eyes of other people who wanted other odds and ends in fact resumed his parliamentary duties in the meantime Mrs. Sparsit kept unwinking watch and ward separated from her staircase all the week by the length of Iron Road dividing Cote Town from the country house she yet maintained her cat-like observation of Louisa through her husband through her brother through James Hart House through the outsides of letters and packets through everything animate and inanimate that at any time went near the stairs your foot on the last step my lady said Mrs. Sparsit apostrophizing the descending figure with the aid of her threatening mitten and all your art shall never blind me art or nature though the original stock of Louisa's character or the graft of circumstances upon it her curious reserve did baffle while it stimulated one as sagacious as Mrs. Sparsit there were times when Mr. James Hart House was not sure of her there were times when he could not read the face he had studied so long and when this lonely girl was a greater mystery to him than any woman of the world with a ring of satellites to help her so the time went on until it happened that Mr. Boundary was called away from home by business which required his presence elsewhere for three or four days it was on a Friday that he intimated this to Mrs. Sparsit at the bank adding but you'll go down tomorrow ma'am all the same you'll go down just as if I was there it will make no difference to you pray sir return to Mrs. Sparsit reproachfully let me beg you not to say that your absence will make a vast difference to me sir as I think you very well know well ma'am then you must get on in my absence as well as you can said Mr. Boundary not displeased Mr. Boundary Mr. Boundary retorted Mrs. Sparsit your will is to me a law sir otherwise it might be my inclination to dispute your kind commands not feeling sure that it will be quite so agreeable to Miss Gregg to receive me as it ever is to your own munificent hospitality but you shall say no more sir I will go upon your invitation why when I invite you to my house ma'am said Boundary opening his eyes I should hope you want no other invitation no indeed sir returned Mrs. Sparsit I should hope not say no more sir I would sir I could see you gay again what do you mean ma'am blustered Boundary sir rejoined Mrs. Sparsit there was want to be an elasticity in you which I sadly miss be buoyant sir Mr. Boundary under the influence of this difficult back up by her compassionate I could only scratch his head in a feeble and ridiculous manner and afterwards assert himself at a distance by being heard to bully the small fry of business all the morning bit sir said Mrs. Sparsit that afternoon when her patron was gone on his journey and the bank was closing present my compliments to young Mr. Thomas and ask him if he would step up in partake of a lamb chop and little nut ketchup with a glass of India ale young Mr. Thomas being usually ready for anything in that way returned a gracious answer and followed on its heels Mr. Thomas said Mrs. Sparsit these plain viands being on table I thought you might be tempted thank you Mrs. Sparsit said the wellp and gloomily fell too how is Mr. Hardhouse Mr. Tom asked Mrs. Sparsit oh he's all right said Tom where may he be at present Mrs. Sparsit asked in a light conversational manner after mentally devoting the wellp to the furies for being so uncommunicative he is shooting in Yorkshire said Tom sent Lou a basket half as big as a church yesterday the kind of gentlemen now said Mrs. Sparsit sweetly whom one might wager to be a good shot back said Tom he had long been a down looking young fellow but this characteristic had so increased of late that he never raised his eyes to any face for three seconds together Mrs. Sparsit consequently had ample means of watching his looks if she were so inclined Mr. Hardhouse is a great favorite of mine said Mrs. Sparsit as indeed he is of most people may we expect to see him again shortly Mr. Tom why I expect to see him tomorrow return to the wellp good news cried Mrs. Sparsit Blanley I have gotten appointment with him to meet him in the evening at the station here said Tom and I am going to dine with him afterwards I believe he is not coming down to the country house for a week or so being do somewhere else at least he says so but I shouldn't wonder would you stop here over Sunday and stray that way which reminds me said Mrs. Sparsit would you remember a message to your sister Mr. Tom if I was to charge you with one well I'll try return to reluctant wellp if it isn't along it is merely my respectful compliments said Mrs. Sparsit and I fear I may not trouble her with my society this week being still a little nervous by my poor self oh if that's all it wouldn't much matter even if I was to forget it for lose not likely to think of you unless she sees you having paid for his entertainment with this agreeable compliment he relapsed into a hang dog silence until there was no more India ale left when he said well Mrs. Sparsit I must be off and went off next day Saturday Mrs. Sparsit sat at her window all day long looking at the customers coming in and out watching the postman keeping an eye on the general traffic of the street revolving many things in her mind but above all keeping her attention on her staircase the evening comes she put on her bonnet and shawl and went quietly out having her reasons for hovering in a furtive way about the station by which a passenger would arrive in Yorkshire and for preferring to peep into it round pillars and corners and out of ladies waiting room windows to appearing in its precincts openly Tom was in attendance and loitered about until the expected train came in it brought no Mr. Hart House Tom waited until the crowd had dispersed and the bustle was over and then referred to a posted list of trains and took counsel with porters that done he strolled away suddenly stopping in the street and looking up it and down it and lifting his head off and putting it on again and yawning and stretching himself and exhibiting all the symptoms of mortal weariness to be expected in one who had still to wait until the next train should come in an hour and 40 minutes hence this is a device to keep him out of the way said Mrs. Sparsit starting from the doll office window when she had watched him last in the house with his sister now it was the conception of an inspired moment and she shot off with her utmost swiftness to work it out the station for the country house was at the opposite end of the town the time was short the road not easy but she was so quick in pouncing on a disengaged coach so quick in darting out of it producing her money seizing her ticket and diving into the train in the land of cold pits past and present as if she had been caught up in a cloud and whirled away all the journey immovable in the air though never left behind playing to the dark eyes of her mind as the electric wires which ruled a colossal strip of music paper out of the evening sky were playing to the dark eyes of her body Mrs. Sparsit saw her staircase with the figure coming down very near the bottom now on the brink of the abyss and overcast September evening just at nightfall saw beneath it's drooping eyelids Mrs. Sparsit glied out of her carriage passed down the wooden steps of the little station into a stony road crossed it into a green lane and become hidden in a summer growth of leaves and branches one or two late birds sleepily chirping in their nests and a bat heavily crossing her and the reek of her own tread in the thick dust that felt like velvet were all Mrs. Sparsit heard or saw until she very softly closed the gate she went up to the house keeping within the shrubbery and went round it peeping between the leaves of the lower windows most of them were open as they usually were in such warm weather but there were no lights yet and all was silent she tried to garden with no better effect she thought of the wood and stole towards it heedless of long grass and briars of worms, snails, and slugs and all the creeping things that be with her dark eyes and her hooked nose warily in advance of her Mrs. Sparsit softly crushed her way through the thick undergrowth so intent upon her object that she probably would have done no less if the wood had been a wood of adders hark the smaller birds might have tumbled out of their nests fascinated by the glittering of Mrs. Sparsit's eyes in the gloom as she stopped and listened low voices close at hand his voice and hers the appointment was a device to keep the brother away there they were yonder by the felled tree bending low among the dewy grass Mrs. Sparsit advanced closer to them she drew herself up and stood behind a tree like Robinson Crusoe in his ambuscade against the savages so near to them that at a spring and that no great one she could have touched them both he was there secretly and had not shown himself at the house he had come on horseback and must have passed through the neighboring fields for his horse was tied to the meadowside of the fence within a few paces his love said he what could I do knowing you were alone was it possible that I could stay away you may hang your head to make yourself more attractive I don't know what they see in you when you hold it up thought Mrs. Sparsit but you little think my dearest love whose eyes are on you that she hung her head was certain she urged him to go away she commanded him to go away but she neither turned her face to him yet it was remarkable that she sat as still as ever the amiable woman in ambuscade had seen her sit at any period in her life her hands rested in one another like the hands of a statue and even her manner of speaking was not hurried my dear child said heart house Mrs. Sparsit saw with delight that his arm embraced her will you not bear with my society for a little while not here where Louisa not here but we have so little time to make so much of and I have come so far and I'm all together so devoted and distracted there never was a slave at once so devoted and ill used by his mistress to look for your sunny welcome that has warmed me into life and to be received in your frozen manner is a heart-rending am I to say again but we must meet my dear Louisa where shall we meet they both started the listeners started guiltily too for she thought there was another listener among the trees it was only rain beginning to fall fast and heavy drops shall I ride up to the house a few minutes hence innocently supposing that its master is at home and will be charmed to receive me no cruel commands are implicitly to be obeyed though I am the most unfortunate fellow in the world I believe to have been insensible to all other women and to have fallen prostrate at last under the foot of the most beautiful and the most engaging and the most imperious my dearest Louisa I cannot go myself or let you go in this hard abuse of your power Mrs. Sparsett saw him detain her with his encircling arm and heard him then and there within her Mrs. Sparsett's greedy hearing tell her how he loved her and how she was the state for which he ardently desired to play away all that he had in life the objects he had lately pursued turned worthless beside her such success as was almost in his grasp he flung away from him like the dirt it was compared with her its pursuit nevertheless if it kept him near her or its renunciation if it took him from her or flight if she shared it or secrecy if she commanded it or any fate or every fate all was alike to him so that she was true to him the man who had seen how cast away she was whom she had inspired at their first meeting with an admiration an interest of which he had thought himself incapable whom she had received into her confidence who was devoted to her and adored her all this and more in his hurry and in hers in the world of her own gratified malice in the dread of being discovered in the rapidly increasing noise of heavy rain among the leaves and a thunderstorm rolling up Mrs. Sparsett received into her mind set off with such an unavoidable halo of confusion and indistinctness that when at length he climbed the fence and led his horse away she was not sure where they were to meet or when except that they had said it was to be that night but one of them yet remained in the darkness before her and while she tracked that one she must be right oh my dearest love thought Mrs. Sparsett you little think how well attended you are Mrs. Sparsett saw her out of the wood and saw her enter the house what to do next it rained now in a sheet of water Mrs. Sparsett's white stockings were of many colors green predominating prickly things were in her shoes caterpillars slung themselves in hammocks of their own making from various parts of her dress rules ran from her bonnet in her Roman nose in such condition Mrs. Sparsett stood hidden in the density of the shrubbery considering what next oh Louisa coming out of the house hastily cloaked and muffled and stealing away she elopes she falls from the lower most stair and is swallowed up in the Gulf indifferent to the rain and moving with a quick determined step she struck into a side path parallel with the ride Mrs. Sparsett followed in the shadow of the trees at but a short distance for it was not easy to keep a figure in view going quickly through the umbrageous darkness when she stopped to close the gate without noise Mrs. Sparsett stopped when she went on Mrs. Sparsett went on she went by the way Mrs. Sparsett had come emerged from the green lane crossed the stony road and ascended the wooden steps to the railroad a train for Coke Town would come through presently Mrs. Sparsett knew so she understood Coke Town to be her first place of destination in Mrs. Sparsett's changing state no extensive precautions were necessary to change her usual appearance but she stopped under the lee of the station wall tumbled her shawl into a new shape and put it on over her bonnet so disguised she had no fear of being recognized when she followed up the railroad steps and paid her money in the small office Louisa set waiting in a corner Mrs. Sparsett set waiting in a corner both listened to the thunder which was loud and to the rain as it washed off the roof and padded on the parapets of the arches two or three lamps were rained out and blown out so both saw the lightning to advantage as it quivered and zigzagged on the iron tracks the seizure of the station with a fit of trembling gradually deepening to a complaint of the heart announced the train and smoke and red light a hiss a crash a bell and a shriek Louisa put into one carriage Mrs. Sparsett put into another the little station a desert speck in the thunderstorm though her teeth chattered in her head from wet and cold Mrs. Sparsett exalted hugely the figure had plunged down the precipice and she felt herself as it were attending on the body could she who had been so active in the getting up of the funeral triumph do less than exalt she will be at Coke Town long before him thought Mrs. Sparsett though his horse is never so good where will she wait for him and where will they go together patience we shall see the tremendous rain occasioned infinite confusion when the train stopped at its destination gutters and pipes had burst drains had overflowed and streets were under water in the first instant of a lighting Mrs. Sparsett turned her distracted eyes towards the waiting coaches which were in great request she will get into one she considered and will be away before I can follow in another at all risks of being run over I must see the number and hear the order given to the coachman but Mrs. Sparsett was wrong in her calculation Louisa got into no coach and was already gone the black eyes kept upon the railroad carriage in which she had traveled settled upon it a moment too late the door not being opened after several minutes Mrs. Sparsett passed it and repast it saw nothing looked in and found it empty wet through and through with her feet squelching and squashing in her shoes whenever she moved with a rash of rain upon her classical visage with a bonnet with all her clothes spoiled with damp impressions of every button string and hook and eye she wore printed off upon her highly connected back with a stagnant verger on her general exterior such as accumulates on an old park fence in a moldy lane Mrs. Sparsett had no resource but to burst into tears of bitterness and say I have lost her Chapter 12 Down A national dustman after entertaining one another with a great many noisy little fights among themselves had dispersed for the present and Mr. Gradgrind was at home for the vacation he sat writing in the room with a deadly statistical clock proving something no doubt probably in the main that the good Samaritan was a bad economist the noise of the rain did not disturb him much he did not have the time raise his head sometimes as if he were rather remonstrating with the elements when it thundered very loudly he glanced towards Coke Town having it in his mind that some of the tall chimneys might be struck by lightning the thunder was rolling into distance and the rain was pouring down like a deluge when the door of his room opened he looked round the lamp father I want to speak to you what is the matter how strange you look and good heavens said Mr. Gradgrind wondering more and more have you come here exposed to this storm she put her hands to her dress as if she hardly knew yes then she uncovered her head and letting her cloak in hood fall where they might stood looking at him so colorless so disheveled and despairing that he was afraid of her what is it I conjure you Louisa tell me what is the matter she dropped into a chair before him and put her cold hand on his arm father you have trained me from my cradle yes Louisa I cursed the hour in which I was born to such a destiny he looked at her in doubt and dread vacantly repeating curse the hour curse the hour how could you give me life and take from me all the inappreciable things that raise it from the state of conscious death where are the graces of my soul where are the sentiments of my heart what have you done oh father what have you done with the garden that should have bloomed once in this great wilderness here she struck herself with both her hands upon her bosom if it had ever been here its ashes alone would save me from the void in which my whole life sinks I did not mean to say this but father you remember the last time we conversed in this room he had been so holy unprepared for what he heard now that it was with difficulty he answered yes Louisa what has risen to my lips now would have risen to my lips then if you had given me a moment's help I don't reproach you father what you have never nurtured in me you have never nurtured in yourself but oh if you had only done so long ago or if you had only neglected me what a much better and much happier creature I should have been this day on hearing this after all his care he bowed his head upon his hand and groaned aloud father if you had known when we were last together here what even I feared while I strove against it as it has been my task in my presence he described against every natural prompting that has arisen in my heart if you had known that they're lingered in my breast sensibilities affections weaknesses capable of being cherished into strength defying all the calculations ever made by man and no more known to his arithmetic than his creator is would you have given me to the husband whom I am now sure that I hate he said no child would you have doomed me at any time to the frost and blight that have hardened and spoiled me would you have robbed me for no one's enrichment only for the greater desolation of this world of the immaterial part of my life the spring and summer of my belief my refuge from what is sorted and bad and the real things around me my school in which I should have learned to be more humble and more trusting with them and to hope in my little to make them better oh no no no louisa yet father if I had been stone blind if I had groved my way by my sense of touch and had been free while I knew the shapes and surfaces of things to exercise my fancy someone in regard to them I should have been a million times wiser happier more loving more contented more innocent and human in all good respect and with the eyes I have now here would I have come to say he moved to support her with his arm she rising as he did so they stood close together she with a hand upon his shoulder looking fixedly in his face with the hunger and thirst upon me father which have never been for a moment appeased with an ardent impulse towards some region where rules and figures and definitions I have grown up battling every inch of my way I never knew you were unhappy my child father I always knew it in this strife I have almost repulsed and crushed my better angel into a demon what I have learned has left me doubting misbelieving despising regretting what I have not learned and my dismal resource has been to think that life would soon go by and that nothing in it could be worth a little of a contest and you so young Louisa he said with pity and I so young in this condition father for I show you now without fear or favor the ordinary deaden state of my mind as I know it you proposed my husband to me I took him I never made a pretense to him or you that I loved him I knew and father you knew and he knew that I never did I was not wholly indifferent for I had a hope of being pleasant and useful to Tom I made that wild escape into something visionary and have slowly found out how wild it was but Tom had been the subject of all the little tenderness of my life perhaps he became so because I knew so well how to pity him it matters little now except as it may dispose you to think more leniently of his errors as her father held her in his arms she put her other hand upon his other shoulder and still looking fixedly in his face went on when I was irrevocably married the rose up into rebellion against the tie the old strife made fiercer by all those causes of disparity which arise out of our two individual natures and which no general laws shall ever rule or state for me father until they shall be able to direct the honest where to strike his knife into the secrets of my soul Louisa he said and said imploringly for he well remembered what had passed between them in their former interview I do not reproach you father I make no complaint I am here with another object what can I do child ask me what you will I am coming to it father chance then through into my way a new acquaintance as I had had no experience of used to the world light polished easy making no pretenses avowing the low estimate of everything that I was half afraid to form in secret conveying to me almost immediately though I don't know how or by what degrees that he understood me and read my thoughts I could not find that he was worse than I there seemed to be a near affinity between us I only wondered it should be worth his while who cared for nothing else to care so much for me for you Louisa her father might instinctively have loosened his hold but that he felt her strength departing from her and saw a while dilating fire in the eyes steadfastly regarding him I say nothing of his plea for claiming my confidence it matters very little how he gained it father he did gain it what you know of the story my marriage he soon knew just as well her father's face was ashy white and he held her in both his arms I have done no worse I have not disgraced you but if you ask me whether I have loved him or do love him I tell you plainly father that it may be so I don't know she took her hands suddenly from his shoulders and pressed them both upon her side while in her face not like itself in her figure drawn up resolute to finish by a last effort what she had to say the feelings long suppressed broke loose this night my husband being away he has been with me declaring himself my lover this minute he expects me for I could release myself of his presence by no other means I do not know that I am sorry I do not know that I am ashamed I do not know that I am degraded by this scheme all that I know is your philosophy and your teaching will not save me now father you have brought me to this save me by some other means he tightened his hold in time to prevent her sinking on the floor but she cried out in a terrible voice I shall die if you hold me let me fall upon the ground and he laid her down there and saw the pride of his heart and the triumph of his system at his feet end of chapter 12 end of the second book end of section 16