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be well taught too； Sissy？” Sissy hesitated before replying； and so
plainly showed her sense that they were entering on forbidden
ground； that Louisa added； “No one hears us； and if any one did； I
am sure no harm could be found in such an innocent question。”
“No； Miss Louisa；” answered Sissy； upon this encouragement；
shaking her head； “father knows very little indeed。 It’s as much as
he can do to write； and it’s more than people in general can do to
read his writing。 Though it’s plain to me。”
“Your mother？”
“Father said she was quite a scholar。 She died when I was born。
She was；” Sissy made the terrible communication nervously； “she
was a dancer。”
“Did your father love her？” Louisa asked these questions with a
strong； wild； wandering interest peculiar to her； an interest gone
astray like a banished creature； and hiding in solitary places。
“Oh yes！ As dearly as he loves me。 Father loved me； first； for
her sake。 He carried me about with him when I was quite a baby。
We have never been asunder from that time。”
“Yet he leaves you now； Sissy？”
“Only for my good。 Nobody understands him as I do； nobody
knows him as I do。 When he left me for my good—he never would
have left me for his own—I know he was almost broken…hearted
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with the trial。 He will not be happy for a single minute； till he
comes back。”
“Tell me more about him；” said Louisa； “I will never ask you
again。 Where did you live？”
“We travelled about the country； and had no fixed place to live
in。 Father’s a；” Sissy whispered the awful word “a clown。”
“To make the people laugh？” said Louisa； with a nod of
intelligence。
“Yes。 But they wouldn’t laugh sometimes； and then father
cried。 Lately； they very often wouldn’t laugh； and he used to come
home despairing。 Father’s not like most。 Those who didn’t know
him as well as I do； and didn’t love him as dearly as I do； might
believe he was not quite right。 Sometimes they played tricks upon
him； but they never knew how he felt them； and shrunk up when
he was alone with me。 He was far； far timider than they thought！”
“And you were his comfort through everything？”
She nodded； with the tears rolling down her face。 “I hope so；
and father said I was。 It was because I grew so scared and
trembling； and because he felt himself to be a poor； weak；
ignorant； helpless man； （those used to be his words）； that he
wanted me so much to know a great deal； and be different from
him。 I used to read to him to cheer his courage； and he was very
fond of that。 They were wrong books—I am never to speak of them
here—but we didn’t know there was any harm in them。”
“And he liked them？” said Louisa； with her searching gaze on
Sissy all this time。
“O very much！ They kept him； many times； from what did him
real harm。 And often and often of a night； he used to forget all his
troubles in wondering whether the Sultan would let the lady go on
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with the story； or would have her head cut off before it was
finished。”
“And your father was always kind！ To the last？” asked Louisa；
contravening the great principle； and wondering very much。
“Always； always！” returned Sissy； clasping her hands。 “Kinder
and kinder than I can tell。 He was angry only one night； and that
was not to me； but Merrylegs。 Merrylegs；” she whispered the
awful fact； “is his performing dog。”
“Why was he angry with the dog？” Louisa demanded。
“Father； soon after they came home from performing； told
Merrylegs to jump up on the backs of the two chairs and stand
across them—which is one of his tricks。 He looked at father； and
didn’t do it at once。 Everything of father’s had gone wrong that
night； and he hadn’t pleased the public at all。 He cried out that the
very dog knew he was failing； and had no compassion on him。
Then he beat the dog； and I was frightened and said； ‘Father；
father！ Pray don’t hurt the creature who is so fond of you！ O
Heaven forgive you； father； stop！’ And he stopped； and the dog was
bloody； and father lay down crying on the floor with his dog in his
arms； and the dog licked his face。”
Louisa saw that she was sobbing； and going to her； kissed her；
took her hand； and sat down beside her。
“Finish by telling me how your father left you； Sissy。 Now that I
have asked you so much； tell me the end。 The blame； if there is any
blame； is mine； not yours。”
“Dear Miss Louisa；” said Sissy； covering her eyes； and sobbing
yet； “I came home from the school that afternoon； and found poor
father just come home too from the booth。 And he sat rocking
himself over the fire； as if he was in pain。 And I said； ‘Have you
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hurt yourself father？’ （as he did sometimes； like they all did；） and
he said； ‘A little； my darling。’ And when I came to stoop down and
look up at his face； I saw that he was crying。 The more I spoke to
him； the more he hid his face； and at first he shook all over； and
said nothing but ‘My darling； and ‘My love！’” Here Tom came
lounging in； and stared at the two with a coolness not particularly
savouring of interest in anything but himself； and not much of that
at present。
“I am asking Sissy a few questions； Tom；” observed his sister。
“You have no occasion to go away； but don’t interrupt us for a
moment； Tom dear。”
“Oh！ very well！” returned Tom。 “Only father has brought old
Bounderby home； and I want you to come into the drawing…room。
Because if you come； there’s a good chance of old Bounderby’s
asking me to dinner； and if you don’t there’s none。”
“I’ll come directly。”
“I’ll wait for you；” said Tom； “to make sure。”
Sissy resumed in a lower voice。 “At last poor father said that he
had given no satisfaction again； and never did give any satisfaction
now； and that he was a shame and disgrace； and I should have
done better without him all along。 I said all the affectionate things
to him that came into my heart； and presently he was quiet； and I
sat down by him； and told him all about the school and everything
that had been said and done there。 When I had no more left to tell；
he put his arms round my neck； and kissed me a great many times。
Then he asked me to fetch some of the stuff he used； for the little
hurt he had had； and to get it at the best place； which was at the
other end of town from there； and then； after kissing me again； he
let me go。 When I had gone downstairs； I turned back that I might
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be a little bit more company to him yet； and looked in at the door；
and said； ‘Father dear； shall I take Merrylegs？’ Father shook his
head and said； ‘No； Sissy； no； take nothing that’s known to be
mine； my darling；’ and I left him sitting by the fire。 Then the
thought must have come upon him； poor； poor father！ of going
away to try something for my sake； for； when I came back he was
gone。”
“I say！ Look sharp for old Bounderby； Loo！” Tom
remonstrated。
“There’s no more to tell； Miss Louisa。 I keep the nine oils ready
for him and I know he will come back。 Every letter that I see in Mr
Gradgrind’s hand takes my breath away and blinds my eyes； for I
think it comes from father； or from Mr Sleary about father。 Mr
Sl