her life,” said Mr. Gradgrind.

“It theemth to prethent two thingth to a perthon, don’t it, Thquire?” said Mr. Sleary, musing as he looked down into the depths of his brandy and water: “one, that there ith a love in the world, not all Thelf-interetht after all, but thomething very different; t’ other, that it hath a way of ith own of calculating or not calculating, whith thomehow or another ith at leatht ath hard to give a name to ath the wayth of the dogth ith!”

Mr. Gradgrind looked out of window and made no reply. Mr. Sleary emptied his glass and recalled the ladies.

“Thethilia my dear, kith me and good-bye! Mith Thquire, to thee you treating of her like a thithter, and a thithter that you trutht and honour with all your heart and more, ith a very pretty thight to me. I hope your brother may live to be better detherving of you, and a greater comfort to you. Thquire, thake handth, firtht and latht! Don’t be croth with uth poor vagabondth. People mutht be amuthed. They can’t be alwayth a-learning, nor yet they can’t be alwayth a-working, they an’t made for it. You mutht have uth, Thquire. Do the withe thing and the kind thing, too, and make the betht of uth, not the wurtht!”

“And I never thought before,” said Mr. Sleary, putting his head in at the door again to say it, “that I wath tho muth of a cackler!”

CHAPTER IX

Final

IT is a dangerous thing to see anything in the sphere of a vain blusterer before the vain blusterer sees it himself. Mr. Bounderby felt that Mrs. Sparsit had audaciously anticipated him, and presumed to be wiser than he. Inappeasably indignant with her for her triumphant discovery of Mrs. Pegler, he turned this presumption, on the part of a woman in her dependent position, over and over in his mind until it accumulated with turning like a great snowball. At last he made the discovery that to discharge this highly connected female—to have it in his power to say, “She was a woman of family, and wanted to stick to me, but I wouldn’t have it, and got rid of her”—would be to get the utmost possible amount of crowning glory out of the connection, and at the same time to punish Mrs. Sparsit according to her deserts.

Filled fuller than ever with this great idea, Mr. Bounderby came in to lunch and sat himself down in the dining-room of former days, where his portrait was. Mrs. Sparsit sat by the fire, with her foot in her cotton stirrup, little thinking whither she was posting.

Since the Pegler affair, this gentlewoman had covered her pity for Mr. Bounderby with a veil of quiet melancholy and contrition. In virtue thereof, it had become her habit to assume a woeful look, which woeful look she now bestowed upon her patron.

“What’s the matter now, ma’am?” said Mr. Bounderby, in a very short, rough way.

“Pray, sir,” returned Mrs. Sparsit, “do not bite my nose off.”

“Bite your nose off, ma’am?” repeated Mr. Bounderby. “Your nose!” meaning, as Mrs. Sparsit conceived, that it was too developed a nose for the purpose. After which offensive implication, he cut himself a crust of bread and threw the knife down with a noise.

Mrs. Sparsit took her foot out of her stirrup, and said, “Mr. Bounderby, sir!”

“Well, ma’am?” retorted Mr. Bounderby. “What are you staring at?”

“May I ask, sir,” said Mrs. Sparsit, “have you been ruffled this morning?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“May I inquire, sir,” pursued the injured woman, “whether I am the unfortunate cause of your having lost your temper?”

“Now, I’ll tell you what, ma’am,” said Bounderby, “I am not come here to be bullied. A female may be highly connected, but she can’t be permitted to bother and badger a man in my position, and I am not going to put up with it.” (Mr. Bounderby felt it necessary to get on, foreseeing that if he allowed of details, he would be beaten.)

Mrs. Sparsit first elevated, then knitted, her Coriolanian eyebrows, gathered up her work into its proper basket, and rose.

“Sir,” said she, majestically, “it is apparent to me that I am in your way at present. I will retire to my own apartment.”

“Allow me to open the door, ma’am.”

“Thank you, sir, I can do it for myself.”

“You had better allow me, ma’am,” said Bounderby, passing her, and getting his hand upon the lock, “because I can take the opportunity of saying a word to you before you go. Mrs.