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humanity than she had ever heard of； constantly strove with
doubts and resentments。 With doubts； because the aspiration had
been so laid waste in her youth。 With resentments； because of the
wrong that had been done her； if it were indeed a whisper of the
truth。 Upon a nature long accustomed to self…suppression； thus
torn and divided； the Harthouse philosophy came as a relief and
justification。 Everything being hollow and worthless； she had
missed nothing and sacrificed nothing。 What did it matter； she had
said to her father； when he proposed her husband。 What did it
matter； she said still。 With a scornful self…reliance； she asked
herself； What did anything matter—and went on。
Towards what？ Step by step； onward and downward； towards
some end； yet so gradually； that she believed herself to remain
motionless。 As to Mr Harthouse； whither he tended he neither
considered nor cared。 He had no particular design or plan before
him： no energetic wickedness ruffled his lassitude。 He was as
much amused and interested at present； as it became so fine a
gentleman to be； perhaps even more than it would have been
consistent with his reputation to confess。 Soon after his arrival he
languidly wrote to his brother； the honourable and jocular
member； that the Bounderbys were “great fun；” and further； that
the female Bounderby； instead of being the Gorgon he expected；
was young； and remarkably pretty。 After that； he wrote no more
about them； and devoted his leisure chiefly to their house。 He was
very often in their house； in his flittings and visitings about the
Coketown district； and was much encouraged by Mr Bounderby。 It
was quite in Mr Bounderby’s gusty way to boast to all his world
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that he didn’t care about your highly connected people； but that if
his wife； Tom Gradgrind’s daughter； did； she was welcome to their
company。
Mr James Harthouse began to think it would be a new
sensation； if the face which changed so beautifully for the whelp；
would change for him。
He was quick enough to observe； he had a good memory； and
did not forget a word of the brother’s revelations。 He interwove
them with everything he saw of the sister； and he began to
understand her。 To be sure； the better and profounder part of her
character was not within his scope of perception； for in natures； as
in seas； depth answers unto depth； but he soon began to read the
rest with a student’s eye。
Mr Bounderby had taken possession of a house and grounds；
about fifteen miles from the town； and accessible within a mile or
two； by a railway striding on many arches over a wild country；
undermined by deserted coal…shafts； and spotted at night by fires
and black shapes of stationary engines at pits’ mouths。 This
country； gradually softening towards the neighbourhood of Mr
Bounderby’s retreat； there mellowed into a rustic landscape；
golden with heath； and snowy with hawthorn in the spring of the
year； and tremulous with leaves and their shadows all the summer
time。 The bank had foreclosed a mortgage effected on the property
thus pleasantly situated； by one of the Coketown magnates； who；
in his determination to make a shorter cut than usual to an
enormous fortune； overspeculated himself by about two hundred
thousand pounds。 These accidents did sometimes happen in the
best…regulated families of Coketown； but the bankrupts had no
connection whatever with the improvident classes。
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Hard Times 216
It afforded Mr Bounderby supreme satisfaction to install
himself in this snug little estate； and with demonstrative humility
to grow cabbages in the flower garden。 He delighted to live；
barrack…fashion； among the elegant furniture； and he bullied the
very pictures with his origin。 “Why； sir；” he would say to a visitor；
“I am told that Nickits；” the late owner； “gave seven hundred
pound for that Sea…beach。 Now to be plain with you； if I ever； in
the whole course of my life； take seven looks at it； at a hundred
pound a look； it will be as much as I shall do。 No； by George！ I
don’t forget that I am Josiah Bounderby of Coketown。 For years
upon years； the only pictures in my possession； or that I could
have got into my possession by any means； unless I stole ’em； were
the engravings of a man shaving himself in a boot； on the blacking
bottles that I was overjoyed to use in cleaning boots with； and that
I sold when they were empty for a farthing apiece； and glad to get
it！”
Then he would address Mr Harthouse in the same style。
“Harthouse； you have a couple of horses down here。 Bring half
a dozen more if you like； and we’ll find room for ’em。 There’s
stabling in this place for a dozen horses； and unless Nickits is
belied； he kept the full number。 A round dozen of ’em； sir。 When
that man was a boy； he went to Westminster School。 Went to
Westminster School as a King’s Scholar； when I was principally
living on garbage； and sleeping in market baskets。 Why； if I
wanted to keep a dozen horses—which I don’t； for one’s enough
for me—I couldn’t bear to see ’em in their stalls here； and think
what my own lodging used to be。 I couldn’t look at ’em； sir； and
not order ’em out。 Yet so things come round。 You see this place；
you know what sort of a place it is； you are aware that there’s not a
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Hard Times 217
completer place of its size in this kingdom or elsewhere—I don’t
care where—and here； got into the middle of it； like a maggot into
a nut； is Josiah Bounderby。 While Nickits （as a man came into my
office； and told me yesterday）； Nickits； who used to act in Latin； in
Westminster School plays； with the chief…justices and nobility of
this country applauding him till they were black in the face； is
drivelling at this minute—drivelling； sir！—in a fifth floor up a
narrow dark back street in Antwerp。”
It was among the leafy shadows of this retirement； in the long
sultry summer days； that Mr Harthouse began to prove the face
which had set him wondering when he first saw it； and to try if it
would change for him。
“Mrs Bounderby； I esteem it a most fortunate accident that I
find you alone here。 I have for some time had a particular wish to
speak to you。”
It was not by any wonderful accident that he found her； the
time of day being that at which she was always alone； and the
place being her favourite resort。 It was an opening in a dark wood；
where some felled trees lay； and where she would sit watching the
fallen leaves of last year； as she had watched the falling ashes at
home。
He sat down beside her； with a glance at her face。
“Your brother。 My young friend Tom—”
Her colour brightened； and she turned to him with a look of
interest。 “I never in my life；” he thought； “saw anything so
remarkable and so captivating as the lighting of those features！”
His face betrayed his thoughts—perhaps without betraying him；
for it might have been according to its instructions so to do。
“Pardon me。 The expression of your sisterly interest is so
Charles Dickens