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at any time to stand by Stephen。 To…morrow is Saturday。 If no
news comes tomorrow； let us walk in the country on Sunday
morning； and strengthen you for another week。 Will you go？”
“Yes； dear。”
They were by this time in the street where Mr Bounderby’s
house stood。 The way to Sissy’s destination led them past the door；
and they were going straight towards it。 Some train had newly
arrived in Coketown； which had put a number of vehicles in
motion； and scattered a considerable bustle about the town。
Several coaches were rattling before them and behind them as
they approached Mr Bounderby’s； and one of the latter drew up
with such briskness as they were in the act of passing the house；
that they looked round involuntarily。 The bright gaslight over Mr
Bounderby’s steps showed them Mrs Sparsit in the coach； in an
ecstasy of excitement； struggling to open the door； Mrs Sparsit
seeing them at the same moment； called to them to stop。
“It’s a coincidence；” exclaimed Mrs Sparsit； as she was released
by the coachman。 “It’s a Providence！ Come out； ma’am！” then said
Mrs Sparsit； to some one inside； “Come out； or we’ll have you
dragged out！”
Hereupon； no other than the mysterious old woman descended。
Whom Mrs Sparsit incontinently collared。
“Leave her alone； everybody！” cried Mrs Sparsit； with great
energy。 “Let nobody touch her。 She belongs to me。 Come in；
ma’am！” then said Mrs Sparsit； reversing her former word of
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command。 “Come in； ma’am； or we’ll have you dragged in！”
The spectacle of a matron of classical deportment； seizing an
ancient woman by the throat； and hauling her into a dwelling…
house； would have been； under any circumstances； sufficient
temptation to all true English stragglers so blest as to witness it； to
force a way into that dwelling…house and see the matter out。 But
when the phenomenon was enhanced by the notoriety and
mystery by this time associated all over the town； with the Bank
robbery； it would have lured the stragglers in； with an irresistible
attraction； though the roof had been expected to fall upon their
heads。 Accordingly； the chance witnesses on the ground；
consisting of the busiest of the neighbours to the number of some
five…and…twenty； closed in after Sissy and Rachael； as they closed it
after Mrs Sparsit and her prize； and the whole body made a
disorderly irruption into Mr Bounderby’s dining…room； where the
people behind lost not a moment’s time in mounting on the chairs；
to get the better of the people in front。
“Fetch Mr Bounderby down！” cried Mrs Sparsit。 “Rachael；
young woman； you know who this is？”
“It’s Mrs Pegler；” said Rachael。
“I should think it is！” cried Mrs Sparsit； exulting。 “Fetch Mr
Bounderby。 Stand away； everybody！” Here old Mrs Pegler；
muffing herself up； and shrinking from observation； whispered a
word of entreaty。 “Don’t tell me；” said Mrs Sparsit； aloud； “I have
told you twenty times； coming along； that I will not leave you till I
have handed you over to him myself。”
Mr Bounderby now appeared； accompanied by Mr Gradgrind
and the whelp； with whom he had been holding conference
upstairs。 Mr Bounderby looked more astonished than hospitable；
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at the sight of this uninvited party in his dining…room。
“Why； what’s the matter now？” said he。 “Mrs Sparsit； ma’am？”
“Sir；” explained that worthy woman。 “I trust it is my good
fortune to produce a person you have much desired to find。
Stimulated by my wish to relieve your mind； sir； and connecting
together such imperfect clues to the part of the country in which
that person might be supposed to reside； as have been afforded by
the young woman Rachael； fortunately now present to identify； I
have had the happiness to succeed； and to bring that person with
me—I need not say most unwillingly on her part。 It has not been；
sir； without some trouble that I have effected this； but trouble in
your service is to me a pleasure； and hunger； thirst； and cold a real
gratification。”
Here Mrs Sparsit ceased； for Mr Bounderby’s visage exhibited
an extraordinary combination of all possible colours and
expressions of discomfiture； as old Mrs Pegler was disclosed to his
view。
“Why； what do you mean by this？” was his highly unexpected
demand； in great warmth。 “I ask you； what do you mean by this；
Mrs Sparsit； ma’am？”
“Sir！” exclaimed Mrs Sparsit； faintly。
“Why don’t you mind your own business； ma’am？” roared
Bounderby。 “How dare you go and poke your officious nose into
my family affairs？”
This allusion to her favourite feature overpowered Mrs Sparsit。
She sat down stiffly in a chair； as if she were frozen； and； with a
fixed stare at Mr Bounderby； slowly grated her mittens against
one another； as if they were frozen too。
“My dear Josiah！” cried Mrs Pegler； trembling。 “My darling
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boy！ I am not to blame。 It’s not my fault； Josiah。 I told this lady
over and over again； that I knew she was doing what would not be
agreeable to you； but she would do it。”
“What did you let her bring you for？ Couldn’t you knock her
cap off； or her tooth out； or scratch her； or do something or other
to her？” asked Bounderby。
“My own boy！ She threatened me that if I resisted her； I should
be brought by constables； and it was better to come quietly than
make that stir in such a—” Mrs Pegler glanced timidly but proudly
round the walls—”such a fine house as this。 Indeed； indeed； it is
not my fault！ My dear； noble； stately boy！ I have always lived quiet
and secret； Josiah； my dear。 I have never broken the condition
once。 I have never said I was your mother。 I have admired you at a
distance； and if I have come to town sometimes； with long times
between； to take a proud peep at you； I have done it unbeknown；
my love； and gone away again。”
Mr Bounderby； with his hands in his pockets； walked in
impatient mortification up and down at the side of the long dining…
table； while the spectators greedily took in every syllable of Mrs
Pegler’s appeal； and each succeeding syllable became more and
more round…eyed。 Mr Bounderby still walking up and down； when
Mrs Pegler had done； Mr Gradgrind addressed that maligned old
lady：
“I am surprised； madam；” he observed with severity； “that in
your old age you have the face to claim Mr Bounderby for your
son； after your unnatural and inhuman treatment of him。”
“Me unnatural！” cried poor old Mrs Pegler。 “Me inhuman！ To
my dear boy？”
“Dear！” repeated Mr Gradgrind。 “Yes； dear in his self…made
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prosperity； madam； I dare say。 Not very dear； however； when you
deserted him in his infancy； and left him to the brutality of a
drunken grandmother。”
“I deserted my Josiah！” cried Mrs Pegler； clasping her hands。
“Now； Lord forgive you； sir； for your wicked imaginations； and for
your scandal against the memory of my poor mother； who died in
my arms before Josiah was born。 May you repent of it； sir； and live
to know