CHAPTER IV MR. BOUNDERBY

Pray,Mrs.Gradgrind,’saidBounderby,‘whatpassed?’ ‘Oh,mypoorhealth!’returnedMrs.Gradgrind.‘Thegirlwantedtocometotheschool,andMr.Gradgrindwantedgirlstocometotheschool,andLouisaandThomasbothsaidthatthegirlwantedtocome,andthatMr.Gradgrindwantedgirlstocome,andhowwasitpossibletocontradictthemwhensuchwasthefact!’ ‘NowItellyouwhat,Gradgrind!’saidMr.Bounderby.‘Turnthisgirltotherightabout,andthere’sanendofit.’ ‘Iammuchofyouropinion.’ ‘Doitatonce,’saidBounderby,‘hasalwaysbeenmymottofromachild.WhenIthoughtIwouldrunawayfrommyegg-boxandmygrandmother,Ididitatonce.Doyouthesame.Dothisatonce!’ ‘Areyouwalking?’askedhisfriend.‘Ihavethefather’saddress.Perhapsyouwouldnotmindwalkingtotownwithme?’ ‘Nottheleastintheworld,’saidMr.Bounderby,‘aslongasyoudoitatonce!’ So,Mr.Bounderbythrewonhishat—healwaysthrewiton,asexpressingamanwhohadbeenfartoobusilyemployedinmakinghimself,toacquireanyfashionofwearinghishat—andwithhishandsinhispockets,saunteredoutintothehall.‘Ineverweargloves,’itwashiscustomtosay.‘Ididn’tclimbuptheladderinthem.—Shouldn’tbesohighup,ifIhad.’ BeinglefttosaunterinthehallaminuteortwowhileMr.Gradgrindwentup-stairsfortheaddress,heopenedthedoorofthechildren’sstudyandlookedintothatserenefloor-clothedapartment,which,notwithstandingitsbook-casesanditscabinetsanditsvarietyoflearnedandphilosophicalappliances,hadmuchofthegenialaspectofaroomdevotedtohair-cutting.Louisalanguidlyleaneduponthewindowlookingout,withoutlookingatanything,whileyoungThomasstoodsniffingrevengefullyatthefire.AdamSmithandMalthus,twoyoungerGradgrinds,wereoutatlectureincustodyandlittleJane,aftermanufacturingagooddealofmoistpipe-clayonherfacewithslate-pencilandtears,hadfallenasleepovervulgarfractions. ‘It’sallrightnow,Louisa:it’sallright,youngThomas,’saidMr.Bounderby‘youwon’tdosoanymore.I’llanswerforit’sbeingalloverwithfather.Well,Louisa,that’sworthakiss,isn’tit?’ ‘Youcantakeone,Mr.Bounderby,’returnedLouisa,whenshehadcoldlypaused,andslowlywalkedacrosstheroom,andungraciouslyraisedhercheektowardshim,withherfaceturnedaway. ‘Alwaysmypetain’tyou,Louisa?’saidMr.Bounderby.‘Good-bye,Louisa!’ Hewenthisway,butshestoodonthesamespot,rubbingthecheekhehadkissed,withherhandkerchief,untilitwasburningred.Shewasstilldoingthis,fiveminutesafterwards. ‘Whatareyouabout,Loo?’herbrothersulkilyremonstrated.‘You’llrubaholeinyourface.’ ‘Youmaycutthepieceoutwithyourpenknifeifyoulike,Tom.Iwouldn’tcry!’