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'
Have
?
'
returned
Mr.
Bounderby
.
'
Nothing
.
Otherwise
,
do
n't
you
,
Loo
Bounderby
,
know
thoroughly
well
that
I
,
Josiah
Bounderby
of
Coketown
,
would
have
it
?
'
She
looked
at
him
,
as
he
struck
the
table
and
made
the
teacups
ring
,
with
a
proud
colour
in
her
face
that
was
a
new
change
,
Mr.
Harthouse
thought
.
'
You
are
incomprehensible
this
morning
,
'
said
Louisa
.
'
Pray
take
no
further
trouble
to
explain
yourself
.
I
am
not
curious
to
know
your
meaning
.
What
does
it
matter
?
'
Nothing
more
was
said
on
this
theme
,
and
Mr.
Harthouse
was
soon
idly
gay
on
indifferent
subjects
.
But
from
this
day
,
the
Sparsit
action
upon
Mr.
Bounderby
threw
Louisa
and
James
Harthouse
more
together
,
and
strengthened
the
dangerous
alienation
from
her
husband
and
confidence
against
him
with
another
,
into
which
she
had
fallen
by
degrees
so
fine
that
she
could
not
retrace
them
if
she
tried
.
But
whether
she
ever
tried
or
no
,
lay
hidden
in
her
own
closed
heart
.
Mrs.
Sparsit
was
so
much
affected
on
this
particular
occasion
,
that
,
assisting
Mr.
Bounderby
to
his
hat
after
breakfast
,
and
being
then
alone
with
him
in
the
hall
,
she
imprinted
a
chaste
kiss
upon
his
hand
,
murmured
'
My
benefactor
!
'
and
retired
,
overwhelmed
with
grief
.
Yet
it
is
an
indubitable
fact
,
within
the
cognizance
of
this
history
,
that
five
minutes
after
he
had
left
the
house
in
the
self-same
hat
,
the
same
descendant
of
the
Scadgerses
and
connexion
by
matrimony
of
the
Powlers
,
shook
her
right-hand
mitten
at
his
portrait
,
made
a
contemptuous
grimace
at
that
work
of
art
,
and
said
'
Serve
you
right
,
you
Noodle
,
and
I
am
glad
of
it
.
'
Mr.
Bounderby
had
not
been
long
gone
,
when
Bitzer
appeared
.
Bitzer
had
come
down
by
train
,
shrieking
and
rattling
over
the
long
line
of
arches
that
bestrode
the
wild
country
of
past
and
present
coal-pits
,
with
an
express
from
Stone
Lodge
.
It
was
a
hasty
note
to
inform
Louisa
that
Mrs.
Gradgrind
lay
very
ill
.
She
had
never
been
well
within
her
daughter
's
knowledge
;
but
,
she
had
declined
within
the
last
few
days
,
had
continued
sinking
all
through
the
night
,
and
was
now
as
nearly
dead
,
as
her
limited
capacity
of
being
in
any
state
that
implied
the
ghost
of
an
intention
to
get
out
of
it
,
allowed
.
Accompanied
by
the
lightest
of
porters
,
fit
colourless
servitor
at
Death
's
door
when
Mrs.
Gradgrind
knocked
,
Louisa
rumbled
to
Coketown
,
over
the
coal-pits
past
and
present
,
and
was
whirled
into
its
smoky
jaws
.
She
dismissed
the
messenger
to
his
own
devices
,
and
rode
away
to
her
old
home
.
She
had
seldom
been
there
since
her
marriage
.
Her
father
was
usually
sifting
and
sifting
at
his
parliamentary
cinder-heap
in
London
(
without
being
observed
to
turn
up
many
precious
articles
among
the
rubbish
)
,
and
was
still
hard
at
it
in
the
national
dust-yard
.
Her
mother
had
taken
it
rather
as
a
disturbance
than
otherwise
,
to
be
visited
,
as
she
reclined
upon
her
sofa
;
young
people
,
Louisa
felt
herself
all
unfit
for
;
Sissy
she
had
never
softened
to
again
,
since
the
night
when
the
stroller
's
child
had
raised
her
eyes
to
look
at
Mr.
Bounderby
's
intended
wife
.
She
had
no
inducements
to
go
back
,
and
had
rarely
gone
.
Neither
,
as
she
approached
her
old
home
now
,
did
any
of
the
best
influences
of
old
home
descend
upon
her
.
