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Updated: May 3, 2025
An overcast September evening, just at nightfall, saw beneath its drooping eyelids Mrs. Sparsit glide out of her carriage, pass down the wooden steps of the little station into a stony road, cross it into a green lane, and become hidden in a summer-growth of leaves and branches.
Sparsit, ma'am, I rather think you are cramped here, do you know? It appears to me, that, under my humble roof, there's hardly opening enough for a lady of your genius in other people's affairs. Mrs. Sparsit gave him a look of the darkest scorn, and said with great politeness, 'Really, sir?
Sleary, putting his head in at the door again to say it, 'that I wath tho muth of a Cackler! IT is a dangerous thing to see anything in the sphere of a vain blusterer, before the vain blusterer sees it himself. Mr. Bounderby felt that Mrs. Sparsit had audaciously anticipated him, and presumed to be wiser than he. Inappeasably indignant with her for her triumphant discovery of Mrs.
That done, Bitzer was dismissed to town with instructions to recommend Tom to come home by the mail- train. When candles were brought, Mrs. Sparsit murmured, 'Don't be low, sir. Pray let me see you cheerful, sir, as I used to do. Mr.
Now, these persistent assuagements of his misery, and lightenings of his load, had by this time begun to have the effect of making Mr. Bounderby softer than usual towards Mrs. Sparsit, and harder than usual to most other people from his wife downward. So, when Mrs.
'Five and thirty, good-looking, good figure, good teeth, good voice, good breeding, well-dressed, dark hair, bold eyes. All which Mrs. Sparsit observed in her womanly way like the Sultan who put his head in the pail of water merely in dipping down and coming up again. 'Please to be seated, sir, said Mrs. Sparsit. 'Thank you.
Devilish high society, he said, warming his legs. 'It is true, sir, returned Mrs. Sparsit, with an affectation of humility the very opposite of his, and therefore in no danger of jostling it. 'You were in the tiptop fashion, and all the rest of it, said Mr. Bounderby. 'Yes, sir, returned Mrs. Sparsit, with a kind of social widowhood upon her. 'It is unquestionably true. Mr.
Bounderby, as he came across the road, with the sympathizing recognition appropriate to a Victim. He had been married now a year; and Mrs. Sparsit had never released him from her determined pity a moment. The Bank offered no violence to the wholesome monotony of the town.
'I have got an appointment with him to meet him in the evening at the station here, said Tom, 'and I am going to dine with him afterwards, I believe. He is not coming down to the country house for a week or so, being due somewhere else. At least, he says so; but I shouldn't wonder if he was to stop here over Sunday, and stray that way. 'Which reminds me! said Mrs. Sparsit.
But whether she ever tried or no, lay hidden in her own closed heart. Mrs. Sparsit was so much affected on this particular occasion, that, assisting Mr. Bounderby to his hat after breakfast, and being then alone with him in the hall, she imprinted a chaste kiss upon his hand, murmured 'My benefactor! and retired, overwhelmed with grief.
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