want to know of circuses then? I am sure you have enough to do, if that’s what you want. With my head in its present state, I couldn’t remember the mere names of half the facts you have got to attend to.”

“That’s the reason!” pouted Louisa.

“Don’t tell me that’s the reason, because it can be nothing of the sort,” said Mrs. Gradgrind. “Go and be somethingological directly.” Mrs. Gradgrind was not a scientific character, and usually dismissed her children to their studies with this general injunction to choose their pursuit.

In truth, Mrs. Gradgrind’s stock of facts in general was woefully defective; but Mr. Gradgrind, in raising her to her high matrimonial position, had been influenced by two reasons. Firstly, she was most satisfactory as a question of figures; and, secondly, she had “no nonsense” about her. By nonsense he meant fancy; and truly it is probable she was as free from any alloy of that nature as any human being not arrived at the perfection of an absolute idiot ever was.

The simple circumstance of being left alone with her husband and Mr. Bounderby was sufficient to stun this admirable lady again without collision between herself and any other fact. So she once more died away, and nobody minded her.

“Bounderby,” said Mr. Gradgrind, drawing a chair to the fireside, “you are always so interested in my young people—particularly in Louisa—that I make no apology for saying to you I am very much vexed by this discovery. I have systematically devoted myself (as you know) to the education of the reason of my family. The reason is (as you know) the only faculty to which education should be addressed. And yet, Bounderby, it would appear from this unexpected circumstance of today, though in itself a trifling one, as if something had crept into Thomas’s and Louisa’s minds which is—or rather, which is not—I don’t know that I can express myself better than by saying—which has never been intended to be developed, and in which their reason has no part.”

“There certainly is no reason in looking with interest at a parcel of vagabonds,” returned Bounderby. “When I was a vagabond myself nobody looked with any interest at me, I know that.”

“Then comes the question,” said the eminently practical father, with his eyes on the fire, “in what has this vulgar curiosity its rise?”

“I’ll tell you in what. In idle imagination.”

“I hope not,” said the eminently practical. “I confess, however, that the misgiving has crossed me on my way home.”

“In idle imagination, Gradgrind,” repeated Bounderby. “A very bad thing for anybody, but a cursed bad thing for a girl like Louisa. I should ask Mrs. Gradgrind’s pardon for strong expressions but that she knows very well I am not a refined character. Whoever expects refinement in me will be disappointed. I hadn’t a refined bringing-up.”

“Whether,” said Gradgrind, pondering with his hands in his pockets, and his cavernous eyes on the fire, “whether any instructor or servant can have suggested anything? Whether Louisa or Thomas can have been reading anything? Whether, in spite of all precautions, any idle storybook can have got into the house? Because, in minds that have been practically formed by rule and line, from the cradle upwards, this is so curious, so incomprehensible.”

“Stop a bit!” cried Bounderby, who all this time had been standing, as before, on the hearth, bursting at the very furniture of the room with explosive humility. “You have one of those strollers’ children in the school.”

“Cecilia Jupe, by name,” said Mr. Gradgrind, with something of a stricken look at his friend.

“Now, stop a bit!” cried Bounderby again. “How did she come there?”

“Why, the fact is I saw the girl myself for the first time only just now. She specially applied here at the house to be admitted, as not regularly belonging to our town, and—yes, you are right, Bounderby, you are right.”

“Now, stop a bit!” cried Bounderby, once more. “Louisa saw her when she came?”

“Louisa certainly did see her, for she mentioned the application to me. But Louisa saw her, I have no doubt, in Mrs. Gradgrind’s presence.”

“Pray, Mrs. Gradgrind,” said Bounderby, “what passed?”

“Oh, my poor health!” returned Mrs. Gradgrind. “The girl wanted to come to the school, and Mr. Gradgrind wanted girls to come to the school, and Louisa and Thomas both said that the girl wanted to come, and that Mr. Gradgrind wanted girls to come, and how was it possible to contradict them when such was the fact!”

“Now I tell you what, Gradgrind!” said