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her altered station； she resigned herself with noble fortitude to
lodging； as one may say； in clover； and feeding on the fat of the
land。 During the whole term of this recess from the guardianship
of the Bank； Mrs Sparsit was a pattern of consistency； continuing
to take such pity on Mr Bounderby to his face； as is rarely taken
on man； and to call his portrait a Noodle to its face； with the
greatest acrimony and contempt。
Mr Bounderby； having got it into his explosive composition that
Mrs Sparsit was a highly superior woman to perceive that he had
that general cross upon him in his deserts （for he had not yet
settled what it was）； and further； that Louisa would have objected
to her as a frequent visitor if it had comported with his greatness
that she should object to anything he choose to do； resolved not to
lose sight of Mrs Sparsit easily。 So when her nerves were strung
up to the pitch of again consuming sweet…breads in solitude； he
said to her at the dinner…table； on the day before her departure； “I
tell you what； ma’am； you shall come down here of a Saturday；
while the fine weather lasts； and stay till Monday。” To which Mrs
Sparsit returned； in effect； though not of the Mohammedan
persuasion： “To hear is to obey。”
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Now Mrs Sparsit was not a poetical woman； but she took an
idea in the nature of an allegorical fancy； into her head。 Much
watching of Louisa； and much consequent observation of her
impenetrable demeanour； which keenly whetted and sharpened
Mrs Sparsit’s edge； must have given her as it were a lift； in the way
of inspiration。 She erected in her mind a mighty Staircase； with a
dark pit of shame and ruin at the bottom； and down those stairs；
from day to day and hour to hour； she saw Louisa coming。
It became the business of Mrs Sparsit’s life； to look up at her
staircase； and to watch Louisa coming down。 Sometimes slowly；
sometimes quickly； sometimes several steps at one bout；
sometimes stopping； never turning back。 If she had once turned
back； it might have been the death of Mrs Sparsit in spleen and
grief。
She had been descending steadily； to the day； and on the day；
when Mr Bounderby issued the weekly invitation recorded above。
Mrs Sparsit was in good spirits； and inclined to be conversational。
“And pray； sir；” said she； “if I may venture to ask a question
appertaining to any subject on which you show reserve—which is
indeed hardly in me； for I well know you have a reason for
everything you do—have you received intelligence respecting the
robbery？”
“Why； ma’am； no； not yet。 Under the circumstances； I didn’t
expect it yet。 Rome wasn’t built in a day； ma’am。”
“Very true； sir；” said Mrs Sparsit； shaking her head。 “Nor yet in
a week； ma’am。”
“No； indeed； sir；” returned Mrs Sparsit； with a gentle
melancholy upon her。
“In a similar manner； ma’am；” said Bounderby； “I can wait； you
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know。 If Romulus and Remus could wait； Josiah Bounderby can
wait。 They were better off in their youth than I was； however；
They had a she…wolf for a nurse； I had only a she…wolf for a
grandmother。 She didn’t give any milk； ma’am； she gave bruises。
She was a regular Alderney at that。”
“Ah！” Mrs Sparsit sighed and shuddered。
“No； ma’am；” continued Bounderby； “I have not heard
anything more about it。 It’s in hand； though； and young Tom； who
rather sticks to business at present—something new for him； he
hadn’t the schooling I had—is helping。 My injunction is； Keep it
quiet； and let it seem to blow over。 Do what you like under the
rose； but don’t give a sign of what you’re about； or half a hundred
of ’em will combine together and get this fellow who has bolted；
out of reach for good。 Keep it quiet； and the thieves will grow in
confidence by little and little； and we shall have ’em。”
“Very sagacious indeed； sir；” said Mrs Sparsit。 “Very
interesting。 The old woman you mentioned； sir—”
“The old woman I mentioned； ma’am；” said Bounderby； cutting
the matter short； as it was nothing to boast about； “is not laid hold
of； but she may take her oath she will be； if that is any satisfaction
to her villainous old mind。 In the mean time； ma’am； I am of
opinion； if you ask me my opinion； that the less she is talked about；
the better。”
That same evening； Mrs Sparsit； in her chamber window；
resting from her packing operations； looked towards her great
staircase and saw Louisa still descending。
She sat by Mr Harthouse； in an alcove in the garden； talking
very low； he stood leaning over her； as they whispered together；
and his face almost touched her hair。 “If not quite！” said Mrs
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Sparsit； straining her hawk’s eyes to the utmost。 Mrs Sparsit was
too distant to hear a word of their discourse； or even to know that
they were speaking softly； otherwise than from the expression of
their figures； but what they said was this：
“You recollect the man； Mr Harthouse？”
“Oh； perfectly！”
“His face； and his manner； and what he said？”
“Perfectly。 And an infinitely dreary person he appeared to me
to be。 Lengthy and prosy in the extreme。 It was knowing to hold
forth； in the humble…virtue school of eloquence； but； I assure you I
thought at the time； ‘My good fellow； you are over…doing this！’”
“It has been very difficult to me to think ill of that man。”
“My dear Louisa—as Tom says。” Which he never did say。 “You
know no good of the fellow？”
“No； certainly。”
“Nor of any other such person？”
“How can I；” she returned； with more of her first manner on
her than he had lately seen； “when I know nothing of them； men
or women？”
“My dear Louisa； then consent to receive the submissive
representation of your devoted friend； who knows something of
several varieties of his excellent fellow…creatures—for excellent
they are； I am quite ready to believe； in spite of such little foibles
as always helping themselves to what they can get hold of。 This
fellow talks。 Well； every fellow talks。 He professes morality。 Well；
all sorts of humbugs profess morality。 From the House of
Commons to the House of Correction； there is a general profession
of morality； except among our people； it really is that exception
which makes our people quite reviving。 You saw and heard the
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case。 Here was one of the fluffy classes pulled up extremely short
by my esteemed friend Mr Bounderby—who； as we know； is not
possessed of that delicacy which would soften so tight a hand。 The
member of the fluffy classes was injured； exasperated； left the
house grumbling； met somebody who proposed to him to go in for
some share in this Bank business； went in； put something in his
pocket which had nothing in it before； and relieved his mind
extremely。 Really he would have been an uncommon； instead of a
common； fellow； if he had not availed himself of such an
opportunity。 Or he may have originated it altogether； if he had the
cleverness。”
“I almost feel as