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my arms before Josiah was born。 May you repent of it； sir； and live
to know better！”
She was so very earnest and injured； that Mr Gradgrind；
shocked by the possibility which dawned upon him； said in a
gentler tone：
“Do you deny； then； madam； that you left your son to—to be
brought up in the gutter？”
“Josiah in the gutter！” exclaimed Mrs Pegler。 “No such a thing；
sir。 Never！ For shame on you！ My dear boy knows； and will give
you to know； that though he come of humble parents； he come of
parents that loved him as dear as the best could； and never
thought it hardship on themselves to pinch a bit that he might
write and cipher beautiful； and I’ve his books at home to show it！
Aye； have I！” said Mrs Pegler； with indignant pride。 “And my dear
boy knows； and will give you to know； sir； that after his beloved
father died when he was eight year old； his mother； too； could
pinch a bit； as it was her duty and her pleasure and her pride to do
it； to help him out in life； and put him ’prentice。 And a steady lad
he was； and a kind master he had to lend him a hand； and well he
worked his own way forward to be rich and thriving。 And I’ll give
you to know； sir—for this my dear boy won’t—that though his
mother kept but a little village shop； he never forgot her； but
pensioned me on thirty pound a…year—more than I want； for I put
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by out of it—only making the condition that I was to keep down in
my own part； and make no boasts about him； and not trouble him。
And I never have； except with looking at him once a year； when he
has never knowed it。 And it’s right；” said poor old Mrs Pegler； in
affectionate championship； “that I should keep down in my own
part； and I have no doubts that if I was here I should do a many
unbefitting things； and I am well contented； and I can keep my
pride in my Josiah to myself； and I can love for love’s own sake！
And I am ashamed of you； sir；” said Mrs Pegler； lastly； “for your
slanders and suspicions。 And I never stood here before； nor never
wanted to stand here when my dear son said no。 And I shouldn’t
be here now； if it hadn’t been for being brought here。 And for
shame upon you； O for shame； to accuse me of being a bad mother
to my son； with my son standing here to tell you so different！”
The bystanders； on and off the dining…room chairs； raised a
murmur of sympathy with Mrs Pegler； and Mr Gradgrind felt
himself innocently placed in a very distressing predicament； when
Mr Bounderby； who had never ceased walking up and down； and
had every moment swelled larger and larger； and grown redder
and redder； stopped short。
“I don’t exactly know；” said Mr Bounderby； “how I come to be
favoured with the attendance of the present company； but I don’t
inquire。 When they’re quite satisfied； perhaps they’ll be so good as
to disperse； whether they’re satisfied or not； perhaps they’ll be so
good as to disperse。 I’m not bound to deliver a lecture on my
family affairs； I have not undertaken to do it； and I’m not a going
to do it。 Therefore those who expect any explanation whatever
upon that branch of the subject； will be disappointed—particularly
Tom Gradgrind； and he can’t know it too soon。 In reference to the
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Bank robbery； there has been a mistake made； concerning my
mother。 If there hadn’t been over…officiousness； it wouldn’t have
been made； and I hate over…officiousness at all times； whether or
no。 Good evening！”
Although Mr Bounderby carried it off in these terms； holding
the door open for the company to depart； there was a blustering
sheepishness upon him； at once extremely crestfallen and
superlatively absurd。 Detected as the Bully of humility； who had
built his windy reputation upon lies； and in his boastfulness had
put the honest truth as far away from him as if he had advanced
the mean claim （there is no meaner） to tack himself on to a
pedigree； he cut a most ridiculous figure。 With the people filing off
at the door he held； who he knew would carry what had passed to
the whole town； to be given to the four winds； he could not have
looked a Bully more shorn and forlorn； if he had had his ears
cropped。 Even that unlucky female； Mrs Sparsit； fallen from her
pinnacle of exultation into the Slough of Despond； was not in so
bad a plight as that remarkable man and self…made Humbug；
Josiah Bounderby of Coketown。
Rachael and Sissy； leaving Mrs Pegler to occupy a bed at her
son’s for that night； walked together to the gate of Stone Lodge
and there parted。 Mr Gradgrind joined them before they had gone
very far； and spoke with much interest of Stephen Blackpool； for
whom he thought this signal failure of the suspicions against Mrs
Pegler was likely to work well。
As to the whelp； throughout this scene as on all other late
occasions； he had stuck close to Bounderby。 He seemed to feel that
as long as Bounderby could make no discovery without his
knowledge； he was so far safe。 He never visited his sister； and had
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only seen her once since she went home： that is to say； on the
night when he still stuck close to Bounderby； as already related。
There was one dim unformed fear lingering about his sister’s
mind； to which she never gave utterance； which surrounded the
graceless and ungrateful boy with a dreadful mystery。 The same
dark possibility had presented itself in the same shapeless guise；
this very day； to Sissy； when Rachael spoke of some one who
would be confounded by Stephen’s return； having put him out of
the way。 Louisa had never spoken of harbouring any suspicion of
her brother in connection with the robbery； she and Sissy had
held no confidence on the subject； save in that one interchange of
looks when the unconscious father rested his grey head on his
hand； but it was understood between them； and they both knew it。
This other fear was so awful； that it hovered about each of them
like a ghostly shadow； neither daring to think of its being near
herself； far less of its being near the other。
And still the forced spirit which the whelp had plucked up；
throve with him。 If Stephen Blackpool was not the thief； let him
show himself。 Why didn’t he？
Another night。 Another day and night。 No Stephen Blackpool。
Where was the man； and why did he not come back？
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Chapter 6
The Starlight
he Sunday was a bright Sunday in autumn； clear and cool；
when early in the morning Sissy and Rachael met； to walk
T
in the country。
As Coketown cast ashes not only on its own head but on the
neighbourhood’s too—after the manner of those pious persons
who do penance for their own sins by putting other people into
sackcloth—it was customary for those who now and then thirsted
for a draught of pure air； which is not absolutely the most wicked
among the vanities of life； to get a few miles away by the railroad；
and then begin their walk； or their lounge in the fields。 Sissy and
Rachael helped themselves out of the smoke by