In truth, Mrs. Gradgrind’s stock of facts in general was woefully defective; but Mr. Gradgrind in raising her to her high matrimonial position, had been influenced by two reasons. Firstly, she was most satisfactory as a question of figures; and, secondly, she had “no nonsense” about her. By nonsense he meant fancy; and truly it is probable she was as free from any alloy of that nature, as any human being not arrived at the perfection of an absolute idiot, ever was.

“Bounderby,” said Mr. Gradgrind, drawing a chair to the fireside, “you are always so interested in my young people⁠—particularly in Louisa⁠—that I make no apology for saying to you, I am very much vexed by this discovery. I have systematically devoted myself (as you know) to the education of the reason of my family. The reason is (as you know) the only faculty to which education should be addressed. And yet, Bounderby, it would appear from this unexpected circumstance of today, though in itself a trifling one, as if something had crept into Thomas’s and Louisa’s minds which is⁠—or rather, which is not⁠—I don’t know that I can express myself better than by saying⁠—which has never been intended to be developed, and in which their reason has no part.”

“I hope not,” said the eminently practical; “I confess, however, that the misgiving has crossed me on my way home.”

“Stop a bit!” cried Bounderby, who all this time had been standing, as before, on the hearth, bursting at the very furniture of the room with explosive humility. “You have one of those strollers’ children in the school.”

“I am much of your opinion.”