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without another word went out of the room。 He had not been long
gone； when she heard a light tread near the door； and knew that
some one stood beside her。
She did not raise her head。 A dull anger that she should be seen
in her distress； and that the involuntary look she had so resented
should come to this fulfilment； smouldered within her like an
unwholesome fire。 All closely imprisoned forces rend and destroy。
The air that would be healthful to the earth； the water that would
enrich it； the heat that would ripen it； tear it when caged up。 So in
her bosom even now； the strongest qualities she possessed； long
turned upon themselves； became a heap of obduracy； that rose
against a friend。
It was well that soft touch came upon her neck； and that she
understood herself to be supposed to have fallen asleep。 The
sympathetic hand did not claim her resentment。 Let it lie there； let
it lie。
It lay there； warming into life a crowd of gentler thoughts； and
she rested。 As she softened with the quiet； and the consciousness
of being so watched； some tears made their way into her eyes。 The
face touched hers； and she knew that there were tears upon it too；
and she the cause of them。
As Louisa feigned to rouse herself； and sat up； Sissy retired； so
that she stood placidly near the bed…side。
“I hope I have not disturbed you。 I have come to ask if you
would let me stay with you。”
“Why should you stay with me？ My sister will miss you。 You are
everything to her。”
“Am l？” returned Sissy； shaking her head。 “I would be
something to you； if I might。”
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“What？” said Louisa； almost sternly。
“Whatever you want most； if I could be that。 At all events； I
would like to try to be as near it as I can。 And however far off that
may be； I will never tire of trying。 Will you let me？”
“My father sent you to ask me。”
“No indeed；” replied Sissy。 “He told me that I might come in
now； but he sent me away from the room this morning—or at
least—” She hesitated and stopped。
“At least； what？” said Louisa； with her searching eyes upon her。
“I thought it best myself that I should be sent away； for I felt
very uncertain whether you would like to find me here。”
“Have I always hated you so much？”
“I hope not； for I have always loved you； and have always
wished that you should know it。 But you changed to me a little；
shortly before you left home。 Not that I wondered at it。 You knew
so much； and I knew so little； and it was so natural in many ways；
going as you were among other friends； that I had nothing to
complain of； and was not at all hurt。”
Her colour rose as she said it modestly and hurriedly。 Louisa
understood the loving pretence； and her heart smote her。
“May I try？” said Sissy； emboldened to raise her hand to the
neck that was insensibly drooping towards her。
Louisa； taking down the hand that would have embraced her in
another moment； held it in one of hers； and answered：
“First； Sissy； do you know what I am？ I am so proud and so
hardened； so confused and troubled； so resentful and unjust to
every one and to myself； that everything is stormy； dark； and
wicked to me。 Does not that repel you？”
“No！”
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“I am so unhappy； and all that should have made me otherwise
is so laid waste； that if I had been bereft of sense to this hour； and
instead of being as learned as you think me； had to begin to
acquire the simplest truths； I could not want a guide to peace；
contentment； honour； all the good of which I am quite devoid；
more abjectly than I do。 Does not that repel you？”
“No！”
In the innocence of her brave affection； and the brimming up of
her old devoted spirit； the once deserted girl shone like a beautiful
light upon the darkness of the other。
Louisa raised the hand that it might clasp her neck； and join its
fellow there。 She fell upon her knees； and clinging to this stroller’s
child looked up at her almost with veneration。
“Forgive me； pity me； help me！ Have compassion on my great
need； and let me lay this head of mine upon a loving heart！”
“O lay it here！” cried Sissy。 “Lay it here； my dear。”
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Chapter 2
Very Ridiculous
r James Harthouse passed a whole night and a day in a
state of so much hurry； that the World； with its best
M
glass in its eye； would scarcely have recognised him
during that insane interval； as the brother Jem of the honourable
and jocular member。 He was positively agitated。 He several times
spoke with an emphasis； similar to the vulgar manner。 He went in
and went out in an unaccountable way； like a man without an
object。 He rode like a highwayman。 In a word； he was so horribly
bored by existing circumstances； that he forgot to go in for
boredom in the manner prescribed by the authorities。
After putting his horse at Coketown through the storm； as if it
were a leap； he waited up all night： from time to time ringing his
bell with the greatest fury； charging the porter who kept watch
with delinquency in withholding letters or messages that could not
fail to have been entrusted to him； and demanding restitution on
the spot。 The dawn coming； the morning coming； and the day
coming； and neither message nor letter coming with either； he
went down to the country…house。 There； the report was； Mr
Bounderby away； and Mrs Bounderby in town。 Left for town
suddenly last evening。 Not even known to be gone until receipt of
message； importing that her return was not to be expected for the
present。
In these circumstances he had nothing for it but to follow her to
town。 He went to the house in town。 Mrs Bounderby not there。 He
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looked in at the Bank。 Mr Bounderby away； and Mrs Sparsit away。
Mrs Sparsit away？ Who could have been reduced to sudden
extremity for the company of that griffin！
“Well！ I don’t know；” said Tom； who had his own reasons for
being uneasy about it。 “She was off somewhere at daybreak this
morning。 She’s always full of mystery； I hate her。 So I do that
white chap； he’s always got his blinking eyes upon a fellow。”
“Where were you last night； Tom？”
“Where was I last night！” said Tom。 “Come！ I like that。 I was
waiting for you； Mr Harthouse； till it came down as I never saw it
come down before。 Where was I too！ Where were you； you mean。”
“I was prevented from coming—detained。”
“Detained！” murmured Tom。 “Two of us were detained。 I was
detained looking for you； till I lost every train but the mail。 It
would have been a pleasant job to go down by that on such a night；
and have to walk home through a pond。 I was obliged to sleep in
town after all。”
“Where？”
“Where？ Why； in my own bed at Bounderby’s。”
“Did you see your sister？”
“How the deuce；” returned Tom； staring； “could I see my sister
when she was fifteen miles off？”
Cursing these quick retorts of the young gentleman to whom he
was so true a friend； Mr Harthouse disembarrassed himself of that
interview with the smallest conceivable amount of ceremony； and
debated for the hundredth time what all this could mean？ He
made only one thing clear。 It was； that whether she was in town or
out of town； whether he had been premature with her who was so
hard to comprehend； or she had lost courage； or they were
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discovered； or some mischance or mistake； at present
incomprehensible had occurred； he must remain to confront his
fortune； whatever it was。 The hotel where he was known to live
when condemned to that region of blackness； was the stake to
which he was tied。 As to all the r