"Wanted to see what it was like," returned Louisa shortly.
"You!" exclaimed Mr. Gradgrind. "Thomas and you, to whom the circle of
the sciences is open; who may be said to be replete with Fact; who have
been trained to mathematical exactness; Thomas and you, here! In this
degraded position! I am amazed."
"I was tired, father," said Louisa.
"Tired? Of what?" asked the astonished father.
"I don't know of what--of everything, I think."
"Say not another word," returned Mr. Gradgrind. "You are childish. I
will hear no more." With which remark he led the culprits to their home
in silence, into the presence of their fretful invalid mother, who was
much annoyed at the disturbance they had created. While she was
peevishly expressing her mind on the subject, Mr. Gradgrind was gravely
pondering upon the matter.
"Whether," he said, "whether any instructor or servant can have
suggested anything? Whether, in spite of all precautions, any idle
story-book can have got into the house for Louisa or Thomas to read?
Because in minds that have been practically formed by rule and line,
from the cradle upwards, this is incomprehensible."
"Stop a bit!" cried his friend Bounderby. "You have one of those
Stroller's children in the school, Cecilia Jupe by name! I tell you
what, Gradgrind, turn this girl to the right-about, and there is an
end of it."
"I am much of your opinion."
"Do it at once," said Bounderby, "has always been my motto. Do you the
same. Do this at once!"
"I have the father's address," said his friend. "Perhaps you would not
mind walking to town with me?"
"Not the least in the world," said Mr. Bounderby, "as long as you do it
at once!"
So Mr. Gradgrind and his friend immediately set out to find Cecilia
Jupe, and to order her from henceforth to remain away from school. On
the way there they met her. "Now, girl," said Mr. Gradgrind, "take this
gentleman and me to your father's; we are going there. What have you got
in that bottle you are carrying?"
"It's the nine oils."
"The what?" cried Mr. Bounderby.
"The nine oils, sir, to rub father with. It is what our people always
use, sir, when they get any hurts in the ring," replied the girl, "they
bruise themselves very bad sometimes."
"Serves them right," said Mr. Bounderby, "for being idle." The girl
glanced up at his face with mingled astonishment and dread as he said
this, but she led them on down a narrow road, until they stopped at the
door of a little public house.
"This is it, sir," she said. "It's only crossing the bar, sir, and up
the stairs, if you wouldn't mind; and waiting there for a moment till I
get a candle. If you should hear a dog, sir, it's only Merrylegs, and he
only barks."
They followed the girl up some steep stairs, and stopped while she went
on for a candle. Reappearing, with a face of great surprise, she said,
"Father is not in our room, sir. If you wouldn't mind walking in, sir?
I'll find him directly."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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