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Updated: June 22, 2025
James Harthouse smiled; and rising from his end of the sofa, and lounging with his back against the chimney-piece, so that he stood before the empty fire-grate as he smoked, in front of Tom and looking down at him, observed: 'What a comical brother-in-law you are! 'What a comical brother-in-law old Bounderby is, I think you mean, said Tom. 'You are a piece of caustic, Tom, retorted Mr.
O yes! And he laughed, and took a little more of the cooling drink. James Harthouse continued to lounge in the same place and attitude, smoking his cigar in his own easy way, and looking pleasantly at the whelp, as if he knew himself to be a kind of agreeable demon who had only to hover over him, and he must give up his whole soul if required.
She made a slight movement, as if she were trying to speak, but could not find voice; at length she said, 'Mr. Harthouse, I give you credit for being interested in my brother. 'Thank you. I claim to deserve it. You know how little I do claim, but I will go that length. You have done so much for him, you are so fond of him; your whole life, Mrs.
Bounderby stared with a bursting pride at Mr. Harthouse, as much as to say, 'I am the proprietor of this female, and she's worth your attention, I think. Then, resumed his discourse. 'You can recall for yourself, Harthouse, what I said to him when you saw him. I didn't mince the matter with him. I am never mealy with 'em. I KNOW 'em. Very well, sir. Three days after that, he bolted.
Where was the great difference between the two schools, when each chained her down to material realities, and inspired her with no faith in anything else? What was there in her soul for James Harthouse to destroy, which Thomas Gradgrind had nurtured there in its state of innocence!
Harthouse, said Tom with a groan, 'I am hard up, and bothered out of my life. 'My good fellow, so am I. 'You! returned Tom. 'You are the picture of independence. Mr. Harthouse, I am in a horrible mess. You have no idea what a state I have got myself into what a state my sister might have got me out of, if she would only have done it.
Tom blew his smoke aside, after he had been smoking a little while, and took an observation of his friend. 'He don't seem to care about his dress, thought Tom, 'and yet how capitally he does it. What an easy swell he is! Mr. James Harthouse, happening to catch Tom's eye, remarked that he drank nothing, and filled his glass with his own negligent hand. 'Thank'ee, said Tom. 'Thank'ee. Well, Mr.
Harthouse encouraged him much in the course of the evening, and showed an unusual liking for him. At last, when he rose to return to his hotel, and was a little doubtful whether he knew the way by night, the whelp immediately proffered his services as guide, and turned out with him to escort him thither.
'Josiah Bounderby of Coketown is not to be plundered and nobody suspected. No, thank you! Might Mr. Harthouse inquire Who was suspected? 'Well, said Bounderby, stopping and facing about to confront them all, 'I'll tell you. So take this in confidence. Now wait a bit. Mr. Bounderby wiped his head again. 'What should you say to; here he violently exploded: 'to a Hand being in it?
I have got no more to say. Good-night!" At five minutes past twelve next day, Mr. Bounderby directed his wife's property to be carefully packed up and sent to Tom Gradgrind's, and then resumed a bachelor's life. Mr. James Harthouse, learning from Louisa's maid a young woman greatly attached to her mistress that his attentions were altogether undesirable, and that he would never see Mrs.
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