“You found Miss Gradgrind⁠—I really cannot call her Mrs. Bounderby; it’s very absurd of me⁠—as youthful as I described her?” asked Mrs. Sparsit, sweetly.

“You drew her portrait perfectly,” said Mr. Harthouse. “Presented her dead image.”

“Very engaging, sir,” said Mrs. Sparsit, causing her mittens slowly to revolve over one another.

“Highly so.”