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"Because they are improvident," | Mrs. Sparsit | and family. Why should they?"<|quote|>"Because they are improvident,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," | I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?"<|quote|>"Because they are improvident,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it | a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?"<|quote|>"Because they are improvident,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one | to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?"<|quote|>"Because they are improvident,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there | person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?"<|quote|>"Because they are improvident,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you | her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?"<|quote|>"Because they are improvident,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, | as much as he could possibly get; it having been clearly ascertained by philosophers that in this is comprised the whole duty of man not a part of man's duty, but the whole. "Pretty fair, ma'am. With the usual exception, ma'am," repeated Bitzer. "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, shaking her head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp. "Mr. Thomas, ma'am, I doubt Mr. Thomas very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?"<|quote|>"Because they are improvident,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of | carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?"<|quote|>"Because they are improvident,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. | Hard Times |
said Mrs. Sparsit. | No speaker | they?" "Because they are improvident,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's | wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they | it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and | there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that | can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman | hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the | could possibly get; it having been clearly ascertained by philosophers that in this is comprised the whole duty of man not a part of man's duty, but the whole. "Pretty fair, ma'am. With the usual exception, ma'am," repeated Bitzer. "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, shaking her head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp. "Mr. Thomas, ma'am, I doubt Mr. Thomas very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very | is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, | Hard Times |
"Yes, ma'am," | Bitzer | are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am,"</|quote|>returned Bitzer, "that's where it | Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am,"</|quote|>returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more | pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am,"</|quote|>returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the | of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am,"</|quote|>returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could | again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am,"</|quote|>returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be | Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am,"</|quote|>returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in | it having been clearly ascertained by philosophers that in this is comprised the whole duty of man not a part of man's duty, but the whole. "Pretty fair, ma'am. With the usual exception, ma'am," repeated Bitzer. "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, shaking her head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp. "Mr. Thomas, ma'am, I doubt Mr. Thomas very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am,"</|quote|>returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned | and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am,"</|quote|>returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which | Hard Times |
returned Bitzer, | No speaker | said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am,"<|quote|>returned Bitzer,</|quote|>"that's where it is. If | they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am,"<|quote|>returned Bitzer,</|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and | want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am,"<|quote|>returned Bitzer,</|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I | I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am,"<|quote|>returned Bitzer,</|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" | among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am,"<|quote|>returned Bitzer,</|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, | his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am,"<|quote|>returned Bitzer,</|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner | been clearly ascertained by philosophers that in this is comprised the whole duty of man not a part of man's duty, but the whole. "Pretty fair, ma'am. With the usual exception, ma'am," repeated Bitzer. "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, shaking her head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp. "Mr. Thomas, ma'am, I doubt Mr. Thomas very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am,"<|quote|>returned Bitzer,</|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, | of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am,"<|quote|>returned Bitzer,</|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to | Hard Times |
"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," | Bitzer | Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer,<|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"</|quote|>"While my hat covers my | they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer,<|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"</|quote|>"While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet | indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer,<|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"</|quote|>"While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead | no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer,<|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"</|quote|>"While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing | fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer,<|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"</|quote|>"While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, | and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer,<|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"</|quote|>"While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to | ascertained by philosophers that in this is comprised the whole duty of man not a part of man's duty, but the whole. "Pretty fair, ma'am. With the usual exception, ma'am," repeated Bitzer. "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, shaking her head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp. "Mr. Thomas, ma'am, I doubt Mr. Thomas very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer,<|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"</|quote|>"While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he | been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer,<|quote|>"that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"</|quote|>"While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, | Hard Times |
"While my hat covers my family," | No speaker | they do? They would say,"<|quote|>"While my hat covers my family,"</|quote|>"or" "while my bonnet covers | less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"<|quote|>"While my hat covers my family,"</|quote|>"or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case | and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"<|quote|>"While my hat covers my family,"</|quote|>"or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour | or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"<|quote|>"While my hat covers my family,"</|quote|>"or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, | the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"<|quote|>"While my hat covers my family,"</|quote|>"or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can | _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"<|quote|>"While my hat covers my family,"</|quote|>"or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged | the whole. "Pretty fair, ma'am. With the usual exception, ma'am," repeated Bitzer. "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, shaking her head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp. "Mr. Thomas, ma'am, I doubt Mr. Thomas very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"<|quote|>"While my hat covers my family,"</|quote|>"or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May | ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say,"<|quote|>"While my hat covers my family,"</|quote|>"or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its | Hard Times |
"or" | Bitzer | my hat covers my family,"<|quote|>"or"</|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my | do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family,"<|quote|>"or"</|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might | at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family,"<|quote|>"or"</|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of | livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family,"<|quote|>"or"</|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning | each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family,"<|quote|>"or"</|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want | Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family,"<|quote|>"or"</|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in | the usual exception, ma'am," repeated Bitzer. "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, shaking her head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp. "Mr. Thomas, ma'am, I doubt Mr. Thomas very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family,"<|quote|>"or"</|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I | if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family,"<|quote|>"or"</|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an | Hard Times |
"while my bonnet covers my family," | No speaker | hat covers my family," "or"<|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family,"</|quote|>"as the case might be, | They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or"<|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family,"</|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one | me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or"<|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family,"</|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you | Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or"<|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family,"</|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into | make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or"<|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family,"</|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time | Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or"<|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family,"</|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved | usual exception, ma'am," repeated Bitzer. "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, shaking her head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp. "Mr. Thomas, ma'am, I doubt Mr. Thomas very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or"<|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family,"</|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said | to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or"<|quote|>"while my bonnet covers my family,"</|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its | Hard Times |
"as the case might be, ma'am" | Bitzer | my bonnet covers my family,"<|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am"</|quote|>"I have only one to | covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family,"<|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am"</|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person | wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family,"<|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am"</|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, | ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family,"<|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am"</|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; | sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family,"<|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am"</|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes | of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family,"<|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am"</|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man | h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, shaking her head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp. "Mr. Thomas, ma'am, I doubt Mr. Thomas very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family,"<|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am"</|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am | you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family,"<|quote|>"as the case might be, ma'am"</|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more | Hard Times |
"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" | No speaker | the case might be, ma'am"<|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""</|quote|>"To be sure," assented Mrs. | bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am"<|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""</|quote|>"To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, | "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am"<|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""</|quote|>"To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." | a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am"<|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""</|quote|>"To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and | them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am"<|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""</|quote|>"To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, | be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am"<|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""</|quote|>"To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat | head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp. "Mr. Thomas, ma'am, I doubt Mr. Thomas very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am"<|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""</|quote|>"To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding | "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am"<|quote|>"I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""</|quote|>"To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than | Hard Times |
"To be sure," | Mrs. Sparsit | I most like to feed.""<|quote|>"To be sure,"</|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. | feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""<|quote|>"To be sure,"</|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, | If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""<|quote|>"To be sure,"</|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. | "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""<|quote|>"To be sure,"</|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come | Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""<|quote|>"To be sure,"</|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold | said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""<|quote|>"To be sure,"</|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and | Thomas very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""<|quote|>"To be sure,"</|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am | "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed.""<|quote|>"To be sure,"</|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, | Hard Times |
assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. | No speaker | to feed."" "To be sure,"<|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, | the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure,"<|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in | more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure,"<|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb | we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure,"<|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was | go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure,"<|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment | Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure,"<|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion | ma'am, I don't like his ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure,"<|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter | "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure,"<|quote|>assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, | Hard Times |
"Thank you, ma'am," | Bitzer | assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead | to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the | ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your | till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. | to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, | have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in | ways at all." "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to | That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin.<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All | Hard Times |
said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. | No speaker | eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.</|quote|>"Would you wish a little | be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.</|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or | they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.</|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look | quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.</|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and | recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.</|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the | the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.</|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be | "Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, "do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.</|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready | to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.</|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. | Hard Times |
"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" | Bitzer | of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.<|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"</|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank | in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.<|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"</|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish | my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.<|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"</|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute | want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.<|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"</|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, | I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.<|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"</|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of | "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.<|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"</|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary | to you respecting names?" "I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true that you did object to names being used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.<|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"</|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have | me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation.<|quote|>"Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"</|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the | Hard Times |
"Nothing just now, Bitzer." | Mrs. Sparsit | that I could fetch you?"<|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer."</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't | or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"<|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer."</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at | most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"<|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer."</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and | "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"<|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer."</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know | no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"<|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer."</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, | ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"<|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer."</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting | used, and they're always best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"<|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer."</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath | ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?"<|quote|>"Nothing just now, Bitzer."</|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would | Hard Times |
"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," | Bitzer | you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer."<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little | else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer."<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the | "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer."<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped | If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer."<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a | watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer."<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the | wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer."<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg | best avoided." "Please to remember that I have a charge here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer."<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. | accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer."<|quote|>"Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his | Hard Times |
said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; | No speaker | knowing your partiality for it,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;</|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been | your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;</|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a | the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;</|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, | my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;</|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes | improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;</|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, | take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;</|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. | hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both Mr. Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;</|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he | are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;</|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's | Hard Times |
"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." | Bitzer | street from where he stood;<|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."</|quote|>He stepped to the window; | to look over into the street from where he stood;<|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."</|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing | ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;<|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."</|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." | "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;<|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."</|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. | a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;<|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."</|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. | now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;<|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."</|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way | might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;<|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."</|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned | like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood;<|quote|>"but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."</|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the | Hard Times |
He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, | No speaker | his knock, ma'am, no doubt."<|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish | going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."<|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown | for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."<|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes | return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."<|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. | said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."<|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her | wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."<|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and | acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."<|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the | ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt."<|quote|>He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,</|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow | Hard Times |
"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" | Bitzer | head again, confirmed himself with,<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"</|quote|>"I don't know who it | out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"</|quote|>"I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, | "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"</|quote|>"I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," | ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"</|quote|>"I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. | "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"</|quote|>"I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of | person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"</|quote|>"I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank | More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"</|quote|>"I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to | "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with,<|quote|>"Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"</|quote|>"I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, | Hard Times |
"I don't know who it can be," | Mrs. Sparsit | to be shown in, ma'am?"<|quote|>"I don't know who it can be,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her | Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"<|quote|>"I don't know who it can be,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. | so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"<|quote|>"I don't know who it can be,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a | just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"<|quote|>"I don't know who it can be,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so | where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"<|quote|>"I don't know who it can be,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city | of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"<|quote|>"I don't know who it can be,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair | And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"<|quote|>"I don't know who it can be,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune | means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?"<|quote|>"I don't know who it can be,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, | Hard Times |
said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. | No speaker | know who it can be,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.</|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What | shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.</|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at | as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.</|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will | shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.</|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the | provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.</|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having | made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.</|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. | not consider, I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.</|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved | receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.</|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. | Hard Times |
"A stranger, ma'am, evidently." | Bitzer | mouth and arranging her mittens.<|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently."</|quote|>"What a stranger can want | said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.<|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently."</|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this | knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.<|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently."</|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. | tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.<|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently."</|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit | would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.<|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently."</|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, | wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.<|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently."</|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant | most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.<|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently."</|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly | there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens.<|quote|>"A stranger, ma'am, evidently."</|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of | Hard Times |
"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," | Mrs. Sparsit | mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently."<|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I | her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently."<|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this | He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently."<|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. | for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently."<|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the | hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently."<|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, | thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently."<|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you | hand of honour and morality, "that I _should_ be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately most unfortunately no doubt of that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently."<|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby | among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently."<|quote|>"What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. | Hard Times |
said Mrs. Sparsit, | No speaker | too late, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"but I hold a charge | business for which he is too late, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. | "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, | so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If | like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat | you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to | that connected with his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ | to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model | Hard Times |
"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." | Mrs. Sparsit | don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."</|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious | he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."</|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, | who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."</|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that | he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."</|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and | "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."</|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to | Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."</|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once | his." Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon. "No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit, "say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me." "With the usual exception, ma'am," said Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."</|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for | the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."</|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will | Hard Times |
Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. | No speaker | Use your own discretion, Bitzer."<|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.</|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the | accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."<|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.</|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see | he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."<|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.</|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman | the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."<|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.</|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his | else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."<|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.</|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good | are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."<|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.</|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little | "of an individual." "Ah h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted. "An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."<|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.</|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and | sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer."<|quote|>Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.</|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the | Hard Times |
"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," | Bitzer | needful, with the greater dignity.<|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light | that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.<|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. | words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.<|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading | Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.<|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, | and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.<|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All | Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.<|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" | a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.<|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device | Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity.<|quote|>"If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"</|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said | Hard Times |
said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. | No speaker | would wish to see you,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.</|quote|>"I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. | you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.</|quote|>"I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see | down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.</|quote|>"I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, | Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.</|quote|>"I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but | knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.</|quote|>"I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in | becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.</|quote|>"I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to | He wouldn't get it either, if he hadn't a friend and relation at court, ma'am!" "Ah h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head. "I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer, "that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma'am, we know out of whose pocket _that_ money comes." "Ah h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head. "He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am," said Bitzer. "Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have always pitied the delusion, always." "As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what _their_ improvidence is, ma'am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.</|quote|>"I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a | he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you,"<|quote|>said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.</|quote|>"I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this | Hard Times |
"I believe, sir," | Mrs. Sparsit | faith in anything than Lucifer.<|quote|>"I believe, sir,"</|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished | everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.<|quote|>"I believe, sir,"</|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg | exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.<|quote|>"I believe, sir,"</|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All | with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.<|quote|>"I believe, sir,"</|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly | light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.<|quote|>"I believe, sir,"</|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different | disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.<|quote|>"I believe, sir,"</|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw | lady of your eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.<|quote|>"I believe, sir,"</|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but | why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer.<|quote|>"I believe, sir,"</|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit | Hard Times |
quoth Mrs. Sparsit, | No speaker | than Lucifer. "I believe, sir,"<|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"you wished to see me." | no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir,"<|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he | in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir,"<|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit | general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir,"<|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the | down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir,"<|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband | your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir,"<|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit | eminence does." "They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir,"<|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the | and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir,"<|quote|>quoth Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the | Hard Times |
"you wished to see me." | Mrs. Sparsit | believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"you wished to see me."</|quote|>"I beg your pardon," he | in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"you wished to see me."</|quote|>"I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his | from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"you wished to see me."</|quote|>"I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way | having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"you wished to see me."</|quote|>"I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant | the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"you wished to see me."</|quote|>"I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your | particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"you wished to see me."</|quote|>"I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material | would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"you wished to see me."</|quote|>"I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. | said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"you wished to see me."</|quote|>"I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." | Hard Times |
"I beg your pardon," | Mr. James Harthouse | "you wished to see me."<|quote|>"I beg your pardon,"</|quote|>he said, turning and removing | believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me."<|quote|>"I beg your pardon,"</|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." | part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me."<|quote|>"I beg your pardon,"</|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who | and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me."<|quote|>"I beg your pardon,"</|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking | took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me."<|quote|>"I beg your pardon,"</|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the | for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me."<|quote|>"I beg your pardon,"</|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the | Sparsit, "to take example by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me."<|quote|>"I beg your pardon,"</|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to | Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me."<|quote|>"I beg your pardon,"</|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much | Hard Times |
he said, turning and removing his hat; | No speaker | me." "I beg your pardon,"<|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat;</|quote|>"pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought | Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon,"<|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat;</|quote|>"pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made | For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon,"<|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat;</|quote|>"pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of | in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon,"<|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat;</|quote|>"pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and | concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon,"<|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat;</|quote|>"pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A | craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon,"<|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat;</|quote|>"pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no | by you, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon,"<|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat;</|quote|>"pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much | hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon,"<|quote|>he said, turning and removing his hat;</|quote|>"pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," | Hard Times |
"pray excuse me." | Mr. James Harthouse | turning and removing his hat;<|quote|>"pray excuse me."</|quote|>"Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as | beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat;<|quote|>"pray excuse me."</|quote|>"Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. | half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat;<|quote|>"pray excuse me."</|quote|>"Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in | by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat;<|quote|>"pray excuse me."</|quote|>"Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of | appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat;<|quote|>"pray excuse me."</|quote|>"Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," | the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat;<|quote|>"pray excuse me."</|quote|>"Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the | since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat;<|quote|>"pray excuse me."</|quote|>"Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with | of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat;<|quote|>"pray excuse me."</|quote|>"Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I | Hard Times |
"Humph!" | Mrs. Sparsit | his hat; "pray excuse me."<|quote|>"Humph!"</|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she | he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me."<|quote|>"Humph!"</|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five | that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me."<|quote|>"Humph!"</|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping | entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me."<|quote|>"Humph!"</|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it | in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me."<|quote|>"Humph!"</|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said | where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me."<|quote|>"Humph!"</|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word | refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me."<|quote|>"Humph!"</|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. | rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me."<|quote|>"Humph!"</|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been | Hard Times |
thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. | No speaker | hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!"<|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.</|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good | said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!"<|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.</|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, | he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!"<|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.</|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, | as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!"<|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.</|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. | a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!"<|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.</|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit | he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!"<|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.</|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, | to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!"<|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.</|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives | a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!"<|quote|>thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.</|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do | Hard Times |
"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." | Mrs. Sparsit | she made a stately bend.<|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."</|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed | "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.<|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."</|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like | of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.<|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."</|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself | himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.<|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."</|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" | appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.<|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."</|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored | here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.<|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."</|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have | put by a little, ma'am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma'am: I never touch it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.<|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."</|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely | be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend.<|quote|>"Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."</|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" | Hard Times |
All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. | No speaker | well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."<|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.</|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir," | teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."<|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.</|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. | sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."<|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.</|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled | him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."<|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.</|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It | you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."<|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.</|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power | to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."<|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.</|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor | it. I don't even go the length of my wages, though they're not high, ma'am. Why can't they do as I have done, ma'am? What one person can do, another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."<|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.</|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and | "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes."<|quote|>All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.</|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous | Hard Times |
"Please to be seated, sir," | Mrs. Sparsit | down and coming up again.<|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. | of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.<|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a | made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.<|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly | made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.<|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or | again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.<|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," | you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.<|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on | another can do." This, again, was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.<|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. | a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again.<|quote|>"Please to be seated, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my | Hard Times |
said Mrs. Sparsit. | No speaker | "Please to be seated, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me." He | down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, | and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will | the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as | in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, | be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank | was among the fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said | ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to | Hard Times |
"Thank you. Allow me." | Mr. James Harthouse | seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me."</|quote|>He placed a chair for | up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me."</|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly | good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me."</|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to | of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me."</|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before | of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me."</|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and | ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me."</|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and | fictions of Coketown. Any capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me."</|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when | too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"Thank you. Allow me."</|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the | Hard Times |
He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. | No speaker | Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me."<|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.</|quote|>"I left my servant at | be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me."<|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.</|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the | good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me."<|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.</|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned | no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me."<|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.</|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was | going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me."<|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.</|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, | who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me."<|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.</|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved | capitalist there, who had made sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, always professed to wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me."<|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.</|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching | would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me."<|quote|>He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.</|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe | Hard Times |
"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" | Mr. James Harthouse | carelessly lounging against the table.<|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"</|quote|>"In general much blacker," returned | for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.<|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"</|quote|>"In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising | in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.<|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"</|quote|>"In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very | wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.<|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"</|quote|>"In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored | strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.<|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"</|quote|>"In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of | "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.<|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"</|quote|>"In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, | wonder why the sixty thousand nearest Hands didn't each make sixty thousand pounds out of sixpence, and more or less reproached them every one for not accomplishing the little feat. What I did you can do. Why don't you go and do it? "As to their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.<|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"</|quote|>"In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to | that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table.<|quote|>"I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"</|quote|>"In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain | Hard Times |
"In general much blacker," | Mrs. Sparsit | _always_ as black as this?"<|quote|>"In general much blacker,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her | to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"<|quote|>"In general much blacker,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! | carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"<|quote|>"In general much blacker,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband | All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"<|quote|>"In general much blacker,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference | him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"<|quote|>"In general much blacker,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, | Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"<|quote|>"In general much blacker,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention | their wanting recreations, ma'am," said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"<|quote|>"In general much blacker,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in | him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?"<|quote|>"In general much blacker,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from | Hard Times |
returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. | No speaker | this?" "In general much blacker,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.</|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: | it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.</|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, | table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.</|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" | observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.</|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am | from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.</|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black | will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.</|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently | said Bitzer, "it's stuff and nonsense. _I_ don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.</|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure | the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.</|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" | Hard Times |
"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" | Mr. James Harthouse | Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.<|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. | general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.<|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good | railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.<|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," | Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.<|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long | excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.<|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked | see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.<|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which | don't want recreations. I never did, and I never shall; I don't like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.<|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner | there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way.<|quote|>"Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. | Hard Times |
"No, sir," | Mrs. Sparsit | not a native, I think?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was | possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill | it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the | dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself | that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow | will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her | like 'em. As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me | I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable | Hard Times |
returned Mrs. Sparsit. | No speaker | native, I think?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"It was once my good | me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it | the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting | and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing | was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; | him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here | As to their combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim | Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered | Hard Times |
"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." | Mrs. Sparsit | "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."</|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!" said | not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."</|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. | strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."</|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from | again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."</|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he | gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."</|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. | own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."</|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made | combining together; there are many of them, I have no doubt, that by watching and informing upon one another could earn a trifle now and then, whether in money or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."</|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; | which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."</|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member | Hard Times |
"Beg your pardon, really!" | Mr. James Harthouse | My husband was a Powler."<|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Was ?" | in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."<|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." | in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."<|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am | my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."<|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain | see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."<|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. | Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."<|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her | or good will, and improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."<|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding | ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler."<|quote|>"Beg your pardon, really!"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was | Hard Times |
said the stranger. | No speaker | Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, | sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said | "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of | railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I | your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, | precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I | improve their livelihood. Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window | going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of | Hard Times |
"Was ?" | Mr. James Harthouse | pardon, really!" said the stranger.<|quote|>"Was ?"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." | was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger.<|quote|>"Was ?"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, | Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger.<|quote|>"Was ?"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," | the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger.<|quote|>"Was ?"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted | said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger.<|quote|>"Was ?"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. | her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger.<|quote|>"Was ?"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are | Then, why don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger.<|quote|>"Was ?"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw | at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger.<|quote|>"Was ?"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the | Hard Times |
Mrs. Sparsit repeated, | No speaker | said the stranger. "Was ?"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated,</|quote|>"A Powler." "Powler Family," said | Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated,</|quote|>"A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a | you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated,</|quote|>"A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, | very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated,</|quote|>"A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," | and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated,</|quote|>"A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled | table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated,</|quote|>"A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and | don't they improve it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated,</|quote|>"A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down | with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit repeated,</|quote|>"A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage | Hard Times |
"A Powler." | Mrs. Sparsit | "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated,<|quote|>"A Powler."</|quote|>"Powler Family," said the stranger, | pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated,<|quote|>"A Powler."</|quote|>"Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. | a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated,<|quote|>"A Powler."</|quote|>"Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I | and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated,<|quote|>"A Powler."</|quote|>"Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. | hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated,<|quote|>"A Powler."</|quote|>"Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt | its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated,<|quote|>"A Powler."</|quote|>"Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must | it, ma'am! It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated,<|quote|>"A Powler."</|quote|>"Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street | to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated,<|quote|>"A Powler."</|quote|>"Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." | Hard Times |
"Powler Family," | Mr. James Harthouse | Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler."<|quote|>"Powler Family,"</|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting | said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler."<|quote|>"Powler Family,"</|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit | I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler."<|quote|>"Powler Family,"</|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long | quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler."<|quote|>"Powler Family,"</|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to | excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler."<|quote|>"Powler Family,"</|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the | upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler."<|quote|>"Powler Family,"</|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said | It's the first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler."<|quote|>"Powler Family,"</|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the | knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler."<|quote|>"Powler Family,"</|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," | Hard Times |
said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. | No speaker | repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family,"<|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.</|quote|>"You must be very much | stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family,"<|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.</|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?" was the inference | "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family,"<|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.</|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It | it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family,"<|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.</|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am | "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family,"<|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.</|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in | in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family,"<|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.</|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever | first consideration of a rational creature, and it's what they pretend to want." "Pretend indeed!" said Mrs. Sparsit. "I am sure we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family,"<|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.</|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the | wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family,"<|quote|>said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.</|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said | Hard Times |
"You must be very much bored here?" | Mr. James Harthouse | little more fatigued than before.<|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?"</|quote|>was the inference he drew | assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.<|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?"</|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am | widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.<|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?"</|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while | it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.<|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?"</|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction | breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.<|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?"</|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the | the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.<|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?"</|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device | we are constantly hearing, ma'am, till it becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.<|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?"</|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take | a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before.<|quote|>"You must be very much bored here?"</|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, | Hard Times |
was the inference he drew from the communication. | No speaker | be very much bored here?"<|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication.</|quote|>"I am the servant of | fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?"<|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication.</|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, | sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?"<|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication.</|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with | general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?"<|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication.</|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this | which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?"<|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication.</|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned | said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?"<|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication.</|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever | becomes quite nauseous, concerning their wives and families," said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?"<|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication.</|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his | He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?"<|quote|>was the inference he drew from the communication.</|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued | Hard Times |
"I am the servant of circumstances, sir," | Mrs. Sparsit | he drew from the communication.<|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I | bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication.<|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to | pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication.<|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted | uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication.<|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting | like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication.<|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. | Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication.<|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore | said Bitzer. "Why look at me, ma'am! I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication.<|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said | entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication.<|quote|>"I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I | Hard Times |
said Mrs. Sparsit, | No speaker | the servant of circumstances, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"and I have long adapted | from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power | Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," | you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at | in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no | improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe | I don't want a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that | drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. | Hard Times |
"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." | Mrs. Sparsit | circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."</|quote|>"Very philosophical," returned the stranger, | "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."</|quote|>"Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, | "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."</|quote|>"Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," | a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."</|quote|>"Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working | of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."</|quote|>"Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But | by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."</|quote|>"Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place | a wife and family. Why should they?" "Because they are improvident," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."</|quote|>"Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides | womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."</|quote|>"Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member | Hard Times |
"Very philosophical," | Mr. James Harthouse | governing power of my life."<|quote|>"Very philosophical,"</|quote|>returned the stranger, "and very | long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."<|quote|>"Very philosophical,"</|quote|>returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It | Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."<|quote|>"Very philosophical,"</|quote|>returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the | good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."<|quote|>"Very philosophical,"</|quote|>returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who | seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."<|quote|>"Very philosophical,"</|quote|>returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on | the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."<|quote|>"Very philosophical,"</|quote|>returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom | Sparsit. "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."<|quote|>"Very philosophical,"</|quote|>returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," | said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life."<|quote|>"Very philosophical,"</|quote|>returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I | Hard Times |
returned the stranger, | No speaker | of my life." "Very philosophical,"<|quote|>returned the stranger,</|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, | myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical,"<|quote|>returned the stranger,</|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be | assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical,"<|quote|>returned the stranger,</|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged | ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical,"<|quote|>returned the stranger,</|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have | said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical,"<|quote|>returned the stranger,</|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank | in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical,"<|quote|>returned the stranger,</|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had | ma'am," returned Bitzer, "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical,"<|quote|>returned the stranger,</|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while | can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical,"<|quote|>returned the stranger,</|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than | Hard Times |
"and very exemplary and laudable, and" | Mr. James Harthouse | "Very philosophical," returned the stranger,<|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and"</|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely | governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger,<|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and"</|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish | seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger,<|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and"</|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I | it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger,<|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and"</|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something | "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger,<|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and"</|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the | of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger,<|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and"</|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." | "that's where it is. If they were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger,<|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and"</|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he | "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger,<|quote|>"and very exemplary and laudable, and"</|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could | Hard Times |
It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. | No speaker | very exemplary and laudable, and"<|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.</|quote|>"May I be permitted to | philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and"<|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.</|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, | before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and"<|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.</|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, | a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and"<|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.</|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, | a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and"<|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.</|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady | the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and"<|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.</|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all | were more provident and less perverse, ma'am, what would they do? They would say," "While my hat covers my family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and"<|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.</|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, | "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and"<|quote|>It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.</|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in | Hard Times |
"May I be permitted to ask, sir," | Mrs. Sparsit | played with his watch-chain wearily.<|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what | finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.<|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the | servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.<|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at | the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.<|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled | looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.<|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, | engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.<|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand | family," "or" "while my bonnet covers my family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.<|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." | have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily.<|quote|>"May I be permitted to ask, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." | Hard Times |
said Mrs. Sparsit, | No speaker | be permitted to ask, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"to what I am indebted | his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," | "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I | "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by | and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that | unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the | family," "as the case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was | "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly | Hard Times |
"to what I am indebted for the favour of" | Mrs. Sparsit | ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of"</|quote|>"Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much | "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of"</|quote|>"Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding | long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of"</|quote|>"Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the | Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of"</|quote|>"Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. | of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of"</|quote|>"Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty | impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of"</|quote|>"Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, | case might be, ma'am" "I have only one to feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of"</|quote|>"Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or | for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"to what I am indebted for the favour of"</|quote|>"Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the | Hard Times |
"Assuredly," | Mr. James Harthouse | indebted for the favour of"<|quote|>"Assuredly,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Much obliged | Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of"<|quote|>"Assuredly,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. | life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of"<|quote|>"Assuredly,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working | Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of"<|quote|>"Assuredly,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact | about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of"<|quote|>"Assuredly,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of | whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of"<|quote|>"Assuredly,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," | feed, and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of"<|quote|>"Assuredly,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether | by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of"<|quote|>"Assuredly,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been | Hard Times |
said the stranger. | No speaker | for the favour of" "Assuredly,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Much obliged to you for | "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the | "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared | Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, | me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady | to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. | and that's the person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that | he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, | Hard Times |
"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" | Mr. James Harthouse | of" "Assuredly," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. | am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, | the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour | The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which | place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an | all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you | person I most like to feed."" "To be sure," assented Mrs. Sparsit, eating muffin. "Thank you, ma'am," said Bitzer, knuckling his forehead again, in return for the favour of Mrs. Sparsit's improving conversation. "Would you wish a little more hot water, ma'am, or is there anything else that I could fetch you?" "Nothing just now, Bitzer." "Thank you, ma'am. I shouldn't wish to disturb you at your meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the | the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, | Hard Times |
Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. | No speaker | to be the raw material"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.</|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, | something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.</|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon | Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.</|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, | finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.</|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, | My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.</|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made | Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.</|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know | meals, ma'am, particularly tea, knowing your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.</|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the | faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material"<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.</|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," | Hard Times |
"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" | Mr. James Harthouse | Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.<|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, | to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.<|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. | through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.<|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his | played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.<|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence | "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.<|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this | see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.<|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I | your partiality for it," said Bitzer, craning a little to look over into the street from where he stood; "but there's a gentleman been looking up here for a minute or so, ma'am, and he has come across as if he was going to knock. That _is_ his knock, ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.<|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the | and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head.<|quote|>"Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"</|quote|>"No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not | Hard Times |
"No, sir," | Mrs. Sparsit | honour of offering this explanation?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does | in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had | head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then | Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his | from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, | her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by | ma'am, no doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon | he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?"<|quote|>"No, sir,"</|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions | Hard Times |
returned Mrs. Sparsit, | No speaker | offering this explanation?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"he does not." "Thank you. | I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of | material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a | this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently | communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have | way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, | doubt." He stepped to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when | odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir,"<|quote|>returned Mrs. Sparsit,</|quote|>"he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" | Hard Times |
"he does not." | Mrs. Sparsit | "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"he does not."</|quote|>"Thank you. I had no | honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"he does not."</|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter | Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"he does not."</|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a | town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"he does not."</|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. | the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"he does not."</|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great | Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"he does not."</|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. | to the window; and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"he does not."</|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their | this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit,<|quote|>"he does not."</|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. | Hard Times |
"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," | Mr. James Harthouse | Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not."<|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"</|quote|>towards which he languidly waved | this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not."<|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"</|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, | might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not."<|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"</|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, | were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not."<|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"</|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he | circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not."<|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"</|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that | his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not."<|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"</|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. | and looking out, and drawing in his head again, confirmed himself with, "Yes, ma'am. Would you wish the gentleman to be shown in, ma'am?" "I don't know who it can be," said Mrs. Sparsit, wiping her mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not."<|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"</|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that | was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not."<|quote|>"Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"</|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of | Hard Times |
towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, | No speaker | to observe at the window,"<|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,</|quote|>"a lady of a very | and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"<|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,</|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I | the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"<|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,</|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were | raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"<|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,</|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in | while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"<|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,</|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, | carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"<|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,</|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that | mouth and arranging her mittens. "A stranger, ma'am, evidently." "What a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"<|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,</|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. | said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window,"<|quote|>towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,</|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so | Hard Times |
"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." | Mr. James Harthouse | his hand, then slightly bowed,<|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."</|quote|>The inattention and indolence of | towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,<|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."</|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, | Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,<|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."</|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an | Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,<|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."</|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of | watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,<|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."</|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think | the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,<|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."</|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the | a stranger can want at the Bank at this time of the evening, unless he comes upon some business for which he is too late, I don't know," said Mrs. Sparsit, "but I hold a charge in this establishment from Mr. Bounderby, and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,<|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."</|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats | me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed,<|quote|>"a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."</|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she | Hard Times |
The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. | No speaker | all suitable apologies, to do."<|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.</|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always | Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."<|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.</|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," | he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."<|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.</|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been | of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."<|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.</|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all | Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."<|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.</|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about | much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."<|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.</|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in | and I will never shrink from it. If to see him is any part of the duty I have accepted, I will see him. Use your own discretion, Bitzer." Here the visitor, all unconscious of Mrs. Sparsit's magnanimous words, repeated his knock so loudly that the light porter hastened down to open the door; while Mrs. Sparsit took the precaution of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."<|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.</|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that | table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do."<|quote|>The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.</|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, | Hard Times |
"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," | Mr. James Harthouse | her charming in her way.<|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"</|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness | attraction in her that made her charming in her way.<|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"</|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were | to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.<|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"</|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter | of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.<|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"</|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the | the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.<|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"</|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do | the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.<|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"</|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on | of concealing her little table, with all its appliances upon it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.<|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"</|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in | repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way.<|quote|>"Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"</|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the | Hard Times |
said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: | No speaker | suspicious, and officially must be,"<|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:</|quote|>"therefore I may observe that | "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"<|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:</|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is | which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"<|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:</|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and | I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"<|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:</|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he | the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"<|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:</|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You | Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"<|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:</|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," | it, in a cupboard, and then decamped up-stairs, that she might appear, if needful, with the greater dignity. "If you please, ma'am, the gentleman would wish to see you," said Bitzer, with his light eye at Mrs. Sparsit's keyhole. So, Mrs. Sparsit, who had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"<|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:</|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid | really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be,"<|quote|>said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:</|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to | Hard Times |
"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." | Mr. James Harthouse | have been that great man:<|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, | this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:<|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was | are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:<|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have | thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:<|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over | you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:<|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was | sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:<|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he | had improved the interval by touching up her cap, took her classical features down-stairs again, and entered the board-room in the manner of a Roman matron going outside the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:<|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with | remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man:<|quote|>"therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."</|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat | Hard Times |
Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. | No speaker | pleasure of knowing in London."<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.</|quote|>"Thousand thanks," said the stranger. | whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.</|quote|>"Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the | ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.</|quote|>"Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." | lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.</|quote|>"Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may | good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.</|quote|>"Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" | It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.</|quote|>"Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the | the city walls to treat with an invading general. The visitor having strolled to the window, and being then engaged in looking carelessly out, was as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.</|quote|>"Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the | Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London."<|quote|>Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.</|quote|>"Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and | Hard Times |
"Thousand thanks," | Mr. James Harthouse | clues and directions in aid.<|quote|>"Thousand thanks,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Of course | Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.<|quote|>"Thousand thanks,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" | observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.<|quote|>"Thousand thanks,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady | and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.<|quote|>"Thousand thanks,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much | appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.<|quote|>"Thousand thanks,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really | sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.<|quote|>"Thousand thanks,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether | as unmoved by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.<|quote|>"Thousand thanks,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of | think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid.<|quote|>"Thousand thanks,"</|quote|>said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat | Hard Times |
said the stranger. | No speaker | directions in aid. "Thousand thanks,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Of course you know the | with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined | my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a | must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with | considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to | Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that | by this impressive entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of | a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks,"<|quote|>said the stranger.</|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the | Hard Times |
"Of course you know the Banker well?" | Mr. James Harthouse | "Thousand thanks," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?"</|quote|>"Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. | clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?"</|quote|>"Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards | it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?"</|quote|>"Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said | the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?"</|quote|>"Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? | could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?"</|quote|>"Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of | what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?"</|quote|>"Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, | entry as man could possibly be. He stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?"</|quote|>"Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most | a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger.<|quote|>"Of course you know the Banker well?"</|quote|>"Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him | Hard Times |
"Yes, sir," | Mrs. Sparsit | you know the Banker well?"<|quote|>"Yes, sir,"</|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my | said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?"<|quote|>"Yes, sir,"</|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I | this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?"<|quote|>"Yes, sir,"</|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. | speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?"<|quote|>"Yes, sir,"</|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father | liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?"<|quote|>"Yes, sir,"</|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity | of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?"<|quote|>"Yes, sir,"</|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether | stood whistling to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?"<|quote|>"Yes, sir,"</|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most careful officers | ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?"<|quote|>"Yes, sir,"</|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep | Hard Times |
rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. | No speaker | the Banker well?" "Yes, sir,"<|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards | stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir,"<|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him | Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir,"<|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse | pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir,"<|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such | asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir,"<|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. | said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir,"<|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that | to himself with all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir,"<|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most careful officers ever known, employed | head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir,"<|quote|>rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit | Hard Times |
"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." | Mrs. Sparsit | "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."</|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think | you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."</|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," | have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."</|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with | matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."</|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. | where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."</|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, | "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."</|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat | all imaginable coolness, with his hat still on, and a certain air of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."</|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most careful officers ever known, employed by the most liberal managers ever heard of, assisted by the finest | Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."</|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at | Hard Times |
"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" | Mr. James Harthouse | have known him ten years."<|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"</|quote|>"Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly | dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."<|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"</|quote|>"Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had | hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."<|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"</|quote|>"Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and | perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."<|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"</|quote|>"Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I | all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."<|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"</|quote|>"Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind | a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."<|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"</|quote|>"Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink | of exhaustion upon him, in part arising from excessive summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."<|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"</|quote|>"Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most careful officers ever known, employed by the most liberal managers ever heard of, assisted by the finest mechanical contrivances ever devised, the whole in action on | "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years."<|quote|>"Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"</|quote|>"Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that | Hard Times |
"Yes," | Mrs. Sparsit | think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"<|quote|>"Yes,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing | years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"<|quote|>"Yes,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that | gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"<|quote|>"Yes,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know | numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"<|quote|>"Yes,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, | of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"<|quote|>"Yes,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all | Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"<|quote|>"Yes,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind | summer, and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"<|quote|>"Yes,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most careful officers ever known, employed by the most liberal managers ever heard of, assisted by the finest mechanical contrivances ever devised, the whole in action on the | uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?"<|quote|>"Yes,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, | Hard Times |
said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, | No speaker | he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,</|quote|>"he had that honour." "The | "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,</|quote|>"he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, | Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,</|quote|>"he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know | sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,</|quote|>"he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. | his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,</|quote|>"he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," | through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,</|quote|>"he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the | and in part from excessive gentility. For it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,</|quote|>"he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most careful officers ever known, employed by the most liberal managers ever heard of, assisted by the finest mechanical contrivances ever devised, the whole in action on the best line ever constructed, had killed five | fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,</|quote|>"he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. | Hard Times |
"he had that honour." | Mrs. Sparsit | Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,<|quote|>"he had that honour."</|quote|>"The lady is quite a | Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,<|quote|>"he had that honour."</|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, | and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,<|quote|>"he had that honour."</|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may | man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,<|quote|>"he had that honour."</|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm | Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,<|quote|>"he had that honour."</|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much | were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,<|quote|>"he had that honour."</|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, | it was to be seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,<|quote|>"he had that honour."</|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most careful officers ever known, employed by the most liberal managers ever heard of, assisted by the finest mechanical contrivances ever devised, the whole in action on the best line ever constructed, had killed five people and wounded thirty-two, | sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth,<|quote|>"he had that honour."</|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from | Hard Times |
"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" | Mr. James Harthouse | mouth, "he had that honour."<|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"</|quote|>"Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. | Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour."<|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"</|quote|>"Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent | "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour."<|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"</|quote|>"Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady | observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour."<|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"</|quote|>"Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? | certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour."<|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"</|quote|>"Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a | at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour."<|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"</|quote|>"Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed | seen with half an eye that he was a thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour."<|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"</|quote|>"Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most careful officers ever known, employed by the most liberal managers ever heard of, assisted by the finest mechanical contrivances ever devised, the whole in action on the best line ever constructed, had killed five people and wounded thirty-two, by a casualty without which the excellence of the | permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour."<|quote|>"The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"</|quote|>"Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of | Hard Times |
"Indeed, sir," | Mrs. Sparsit | a philosopher, I am told?"<|quote|>"Indeed, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" | honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"<|quote|>"Indeed, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued | the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"<|quote|>"Indeed, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very | the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"<|quote|>"Indeed, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and | Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"<|quote|>"Indeed, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and | met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"<|quote|>"Indeed, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise | thorough gentleman, made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"<|quote|>"Indeed, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most careful officers ever known, employed by the most liberal managers ever heard of, assisted by the finest mechanical contrivances ever devised, the whole in action on the best line ever constructed, had killed five people and wounded thirty-two, by a casualty without which the excellence of the whole system | have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?"<|quote|>"Indeed, sir,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit. "_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, | Hard Times |
said Mrs. Sparsit. | No speaker | I am told?" "Indeed, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent | lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering | well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father | for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit | was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I | of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of | made to the model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most careful officers ever known, employed by the most liberal managers ever heard of, assisted by the finest mechanical contrivances ever devised, the whole in action on the best line ever constructed, had killed five people and wounded thirty-two, by a casualty without which the excellence of the whole system would have been | of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Sparsit.</|quote|>"_Is_ she?" "Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she | Hard Times |
"_Is_ she?" | Mrs. Sparsit | "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"_Is_ she?"</|quote|>"Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued | a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"_Is_ she?"</|quote|>"Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. | rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"_Is_ she?"</|quote|>"Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her | Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"_Is_ she?"</|quote|>"Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. | at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"_Is_ she?"</|quote|>"Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged | people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"_Is_ she?"</|quote|>"Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, | model of the time; weary of everything, and putting no more faith in anything than Lucifer. "I believe, sir," quoth Mrs. Sparsit, "you wished to see me." "I beg your pardon," he said, turning and removing his hat; "pray excuse me." "Humph!" thought Mrs. Sparsit, as she made a stately bend. "Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes." All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. "Please to be seated, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit. "Thank you. Allow me." He placed a chair for her, but remained himself carelessly lounging against the table. "I left my servant at the railway looking after the luggage very heavy train and vast quantity of it in the van and strolled on, looking about me. Exceedingly odd place. Will you allow me to ask you if it's _always_ as black as this?" "In general much blacker," returned Mrs. Sparsit, in her uncompromising way. "Is it possible! Excuse me: you are not a native, I think?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit. "It was once my good or ill fortune, as it may be before I became a widow to move in a very different sphere. My husband was a Powler." "Beg your pardon, really!" said the stranger. "Was ?" Mrs. Sparsit repeated, "A Powler." "Powler Family," said the stranger, after reflecting a few moments. Mrs. Sparsit signified assent. The stranger seemed a little more fatigued than before. "You must be very much bored here?" was the inference he drew from the communication. "I am the servant of circumstances, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "and I have long adapted myself to the governing power of my life." "Very philosophical," returned the stranger, "and very exemplary and laudable, and" It seemed to be scarcely worth his while to finish the sentence, so he played with his watch-chain wearily. "May I be permitted to ask, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit, "to what I am indebted for the favour of" "Assuredly," said the stranger. "Much obliged to you for reminding me. I am the bearer of a letter of introduction to Mr. Bounderby, the banker. Walking through this extraordinarily black town, while they were getting dinner ready at the hotel, I asked a fellow whom I met; one of the working people; who appeared to have been taking a shower-bath of something fluffy, which I assume to be the raw material" Mrs. Sparsit inclined her head. "Raw material where Mr. Bounderby, the banker, might reside. Upon which, misled no doubt by the word Banker, he directed me to the Bank. Fact being, I presume, that Mr. Bounderby the Banker does _not_ reside in the edifice in which I have the honour of offering this explanation?" "No, sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"_Is_ she?"</|quote|>"Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, "that it's very tasteful." "Yes, ma'am," returned Bitzer, "if that's worth the money." "Besides which, ma'am," resumed Bitzer, while he was polishing the table, "he looks to me as if he gamed." "It's immoral to game," said Mrs. Sparsit. "It's ridiculous, ma'am," said Bitzer, "because the chances are against the players." Whether it was that the heat prevented Mrs. Sparsit from working, or whether it was that her hand was out, she did no work that night. She sat at the window, when the sun began to sink behind the smoke; she sat there, when the smoke was burning red, when the colour faded from it, when darkness seemed to rise slowly out of the ground, and creep upward, upward, up to the house-tops, up the church steeple, up to the summits of the factory chimneys, up to the sky. Without a candle in the room, Mrs. Sparsit sat at the window, with her hands before her, not thinking much of the sounds of evening; the whooping of boys, the barking of dogs, the rumbling of wheels, the steps and voices of passengers, the shrill street cries, the clogs upon the pavement when it was their hour for going by, the shutting-up of shop-shutters. Not until the light porter announced that her nocturnal sweetbread was ready, did Mrs. Sparsit arouse herself from her reverie, and convey her dense black eyebrows by that time creased with meditation, as if they needed ironing out-up-stairs. "O, you Fool!" said Mrs. Sparsit, when she was alone at her supper. Whom she meant, she did not say; but she could scarcely have meant the sweetbread. CHAPTER II MR. JAMES HARTHOUSE THE Gradgrind party wanted assistance in cutting the throats of the Graces. They went about recruiting; and where could they enlist recruits more hopefully, than among the fine gentlemen who, having found out everything to be worth nothing, were equally ready for anything? Moreover, the healthy spirits who had mounted to this sublime height were attractive to many of the Gradgrind school. They liked fine gentlemen; they pretended that they did not, but they did. They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. There never before was seen on earth such a wonderful hybrid race as was thus produced. Among the fine gentlemen not regularly belonging to the Gradgrind school, there was one of a good family and a better appearance, with a happy turn of humour which had told immensely with the House of Commons on the occasion of his entertaining it with his (and the Board of Directors) view of a railway accident, in which the most careful officers ever known, employed by the most liberal managers ever heard of, assisted by the finest mechanical contrivances ever devised, the whole in action on the best line ever constructed, had killed five people and wounded thirty-two, by a casualty without which the excellence of the whole system would have been positively incomplete. | "he does not." "Thank you. I had no intention of delivering my letter at the present moment, nor have I. But strolling on to the Bank to kill time, and having the good fortune to observe at the window," towards which he languidly waved his hand, then slightly bowed, "a lady of a very superior and agreeable appearance, I considered that I could not do better than take the liberty of asking that lady where Mr. Bounderby the Banker _does_ live. Which I accordingly venture, with all suitable apologies, to do." The inattention and indolence of his manner were sufficiently relieved, to Mrs. Sparsit's thinking, by a certain gallantry at ease, which offered her homage too. Here he was, for instance, at this moment, all but sitting on the table, and yet lazily bending over her, as if he acknowledged an attraction in her that made her charming in her way. "Banks, I know, are always suspicious, and officially must be," said the stranger, whose lightness and smoothness of speech were pleasant likewise; suggesting matter far more sensible and humorous than it ever contained which was perhaps a shrewd device of the founder of this numerous sect, whosoever may have been that great man: "therefore I may observe that my letter here it is is from the member for this place Gradgrind whom I have had the pleasure of knowing in London." Mrs. Sparsit recognized the hand, intimated that such confirmation was quite unnecessary, and gave Mr. Bounderby's address, with all needful clues and directions in aid. "Thousand thanks," said the stranger. "Of course you know the Banker well?" "Yes, sir," rejoined Mrs. Sparsit. "In my dependent relation towards him, I have known him ten years." "Quite an eternity! I think he married Gradgrind's daughter?" "Yes," said Mrs. Sparsit, suddenly compressing her mouth, "he had that honour." "The lady is quite a philosopher, I am told?" "Indeed, sir," said Mrs. Sparsit.<|quote|>"_Is_ she?"</|quote|>"Excuse my impertinent curiosity," pursued the stranger, fluttering over Mrs. Sparsit's eyebrows, with a propitiatory air, "but you know the family, and know the world. I am about to know the family, and may have much to do with them. Is the lady so very alarming? Her father gives her such a portentously hard-headed reputation, that I have a burning desire to know. Is she absolutely unapproachable? Repellently and stunningly clever? I see, by your meaning smile, you think not. You have poured balm into my anxious soul. As to age, now. Forty? Five and thirty?" Mrs. Sparsit laughed outright. "A chit," said she. "Not twenty when she was married." "I give you my honour, Mrs. Powler," returned the stranger, detaching himself from the table, "that I never was so astonished in my life!" It really did seem to impress him, to the utmost extent of his capacity of being impressed. He looked at his informant for full a quarter of a minute, and appeared to have the surprise in his mind all the time. "I assure you, Mrs. Powler," he then said, much exhausted, "that the father's manner prepared me for a grim and stony maturity. I am obliged to you, of all things, for correcting so absurd a mistake. Pray excuse my intrusion. Many thanks. Good day!" He bowed himself out; and Mrs. Sparsit, hiding in the window curtain, saw him languishing down the street on the shady side of the way, observed of all the town. "What do you think of the gentleman, Bitzer?" she asked the light porter, when he came to take away. "Spends a deal of money on his dress, ma'am." "It must be admitted," said Mrs. Sparsit, | Hard Times |
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