XV + 

Father and Daughter + 

Although Mr.┬аGradgrind did not take after Bluebeard, his room was quite a blue chamber in its abundance of blue books. Whatever they could prove (which is usually anything you like), they proved there, in an army constantly strengthening by the arrival of new recruits. In that charmed apartment, the most complicated social questions were cast up, got into exact totals, and finally settledтБатАФif those concerned could only have been brought to know it. As if an astronomical observatory should be made without any windows, and the astronomer within should arrange the starry universe solely by pen, ink, and paper, so Mr.┬аGradgrind, in his Observatory (and there are many like it), had no need to cast an eye upon the teeming myriads of human beings around him, but could settle all their destinies on a slate, and wipe out all their tears with one dirty little bit of sponge. + 

To this Observatory, then: a stern room, with a deadly statistical clock in it, which measured every second with a beat like a rap upon a coffin-lid; Louisa repaired on the appointed morning. A window looked towards Coketown; and when she sat down near her fatherтАЩs table, she saw the high chimneys and the long tracts of smoke looming in the heavy distance gloomily. + 

тАЬMy dear Louisa,тАЭ said her father, тАЬI prepared you last night to give me your serious attention in the conversation we are now going to have together. You have been so well trained, and you do, I am happy to say, so much justice to the education you have received, that I have perfect confidence in your good sense. You are not impulsive, you are not romantic, you are accustomed to view everything from the strong dispassionate ground of reason and calculation. From that ground alone, I know you will view and consider what I am going to communicate.тАЭ + 

He waited, as if he would have been glad that she said something. But she said never a word. + 

тАЬLouisa, my dear, you are the subject of a proposal of marriage that has been made to me.тАЭ + 

Again he waited, and again she answered not one word. This so far surprised him, as to induce him gently to repeat, тАЬa proposal of marriage, my dear.тАЭ To which she returned, without any visible emotion whatever: + 

тАЬI hear you, father. I am attending, I assure you.тАЭ + 

тАЬWell!тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, breaking into a smile, after being for the moment at a loss, тАЬyou are even more dispassionate than I expected, Louisa. Or, perhaps, you are not unprepared for the announcement I have it in charge to make?тАЭ + 

тАЬI cannot say that, father, until I hear it. Prepared or unprepared, I wish to hear it all from you. I wish to hear you state it to me, father.тАЭ + 

Strange to relate, Mr.┬аGradgrind was not so collected at this moment as his daughter was. He took a paper-knife in his hand, turned it over, laid it down, took it up again, and even then had to look along the blade of it, considering how to go on. + 

тАЬWhat you say, my dear Louisa, is perfectly reasonable. I have undertaken then to let you know thatтБатАФin short, that Mr.┬аBounderby has informed me that he has long watched your progress with particular interest and pleasure, and has long hoped that the time might ultimately arrive when he should offer you his hand in marriage. That time, to which he has so long, and certainly with great constancy, looked forward, is now come. Mr.┬аBounderby has made his proposal of marriage to me, and has entreated me to make it known to you, and to express his hope that you will take it into your favourable consideration.тАЭ + 

Silence between them. The deadly statistical clock very hollow. The distant smoke very black and heavy. + 

тАЬFather,тАЭ said Louisa, тАЬdo you think I love Mr.┬аBounderby?тАЭ + 

Mr.┬аGradgrind was extremely discomfited by this unexpected question. тАЬWell, my child,тАЭ he returned, тАЬIтБатАФreallyтБатАФcannot take upon myself to say.тАЭ + 

тАЬFather,тАЭ pursued Louisa in exactly the same voice as before, тАЬdo you ask me to love Mr.┬аBounderby?тАЭ + 

тАЬMy dear Louisa, no. No. I ask nothing.тАЭ + 

тАЬFather,тАЭ she still pursued, тАЬdoes Mr.┬аBounderby ask me to love him?тАЭ + 

тАЬReally, my dear,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, тАЬit is difficult to answer your questionтБатАФтАЭ + 

тАЬDifficult to answer it, Yes or No, father?тАЭ + 

тАЬCertainly, my dear. Because;тАЭ here was something to demonstrate, and it set him up again; тАЬbecause the reply depends so materially, Louisa, on the sense in which we use the expression. Now, Mr.┬аBounderby does not do you the injustice, and does not do himself the injustice, of pretending to anything fanciful, fantastic, or (I am using synonymous terms) sentimental. Mr.┬аBounderby would have seen you grow up under his eyes, to very little purpose, if he could so far forget what is due to your good sense, not to say to his, as to address you from any such ground. Therefore, perhaps the expression itselfтБатАФI merely suggest this to you, my dearтБатАФmay be a little misplaced.тАЭ + 

тАЬWhat would you advise me to use in its stead, father?тАЭ + 

тАЬWhy, my dear Louisa,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, completely recovered by this time, тАЬI would advise you (since you ask me) to consider this question, as you have been accustomed to consider every other question, simply as one of tangible Fact. The ignorant and the giddy may embarrass such subjects with irrelevant fancies, and other absurdities that have no existence, properly viewedтБатАФreally no existenceтБатАФbut it is no compliment to you to say, that you know better. Now, what are the Facts of this case? You are, we will say in round numbers, twenty years of age; Mr.┬аBounderby is, we will say in round numbers, fifty. There is some disparity in your respective years, but in your means and positions there is none; on the contrary, there is a great suitability. Then the question arises, Is this one disparity sufficient to operate as a bar to such a marriage? In considering this question, it is not unimportant to take into account the statistics of marriage, so far as they have yet been obtained, in England and Wales. I find, on reference to the figures, that a large proportion of these marriages are contracted between parties of very unequal ages, and that the elder of these contracting parties is, in rather more than three-fourths of these instances, the bridegroom. It is remarkable as showing the wide prevalence of this law, that among the natives of the British possessions in India, also in a considerable part of China, and among the Calmucks of Tartary, the best means of computation yet furnished us by travellers, yield similar results. The disparity I have mentioned, therefore, almost ceases to be disparity, and (virtually) all but disappears.тАЭ + 

тАЬWhat do you recommend, father,тАЭ asked Louisa, her reserved composure not in the least affected by these gratifying results, тАЬthat I should substitute for the term I used just now? For the misplaced expression?тАЭ + 

тАЬLouisa,тАЭ returned her father, тАЬit appears to me that nothing can be plainer. Confining yourself rigidly to Fact, the question of Fact you state to yourself is: Does Mr.┬аBounderby ask me to marry him? Yes, he does. The sole remaining question then is: Shall I marry him? I think nothing can be plainer than that?тАЭ + 

тАЬShall I marry him?тАЭ repeated Louisa, with great deliberation. + 

тАЬPrecisely. And it is satisfactory to me, as your father, my dear Louisa, to know that you do not come to the consideration of that question with the previous habits of mind, and habits of life, that belong to many young women.тАЭ + 

тАЬNo, father,тАЭ she returned, тАЬI do not.тАЭ + 

тАЬI now leave you to judge for yourself,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind. тАЬI have stated the case, as such cases are usually stated among practical minds; I have stated it, as the case of your mother and myself was stated in its time. The rest, my dear Louisa, is for you to decide.тАЭ + 

From the beginning, she had sat looking at him fixedly. As he now leaned back in his chair, and bent his deep-set eyes upon her in his turn, perhaps he might have seen one wavering moment in her, when she was impelled to throw herself upon his breast, and give him the pent-up confidences of her heart. But, to see it, he must have overleaped at a bound the artificial barriers he had for many years been erecting, between himself and all those subtle essences of humanity which will elude the utmost cunning of algebra until the last trumpet ever to be sounded shall blow even algebra to wreck. The barriers were too many and too high for such a leap. With his unbending, utilitarian, matter-of-fact face, he hardened her again; and the moment shot away into the plumbless depths of the past, to mingle with all the lost opportunities that are drowned there. + 

Removing her eyes from him, she sat so long looking silently towards the town, that he said, at length: тАЬAre you consulting the chimneys of the Coketown works, Louisa?тАЭ + 

тАЬThere seems to be nothing there but languid and monotonous smoke. Yet when the night comes, fire bursts out, father!тАЭ she answered, turning quickly. + 

тАЬOf course I know that, Louisa. I do not see the application of the remark.тАЭ To do him justice he did not, at all. + 

She passed it away with a slight motion of her hand, and concentrating her attention upon him again, said, тАЬFather, I have often thought that life is very short.тАЭтБатАФThis was so distinctly one of his subjects that he interposed. + 

тАЬIt is short, no doubt, my dear. Still, the average duration of human life is proved to have increased of late years. The calculations of various life assurance and annuity offices, among other figures which cannot go wrong, have established the fact.тАЭ + 

тАЬI speak of my own life, father.тАЭ + 

тАЬO indeed? Still,тАЭ said Mr.┬аGradgrind, тАЬI need not point out to you, Louisa, that it is governed by the laws which govern lives in the aggregate.тАЭ + 

тАЬWhile it lasts, I would wish to do the little I can, and the little I am fit for. What does it matter?тАЭ + 

Mr.┬аGradgrind seemed rather at a loss to understand the last four words; replying, тАЬHow, matter? What matter, my dear?тАЭ + 

тАЬMr.┬аBounderby,тАЭ she went on in a steady, straight way, without regarding this, тАЬasks me to marry him. The question I have to ask myself is, shall I marry him? That is so, father, is it not? You have told me so, father. Have you not?тАЭ + 

тАЬCertainly, my dear.тАЭ + 

тАЬLet it be so. Since Mr.┬аBounderby likes to take me thus, I am satisfied to accept his proposal. Tell him, father, as soon as you please, that this was my answer. Repeat it, word for word, if you can, because I should wish him to know what I said.тАЭ + 

тАЬIt is quite right, my dear,тАЭ retorted her father approvingly, тАЬto be exact. I will observe your very proper request. Have you any wish in reference to the period of your marriage, my child?тАЭ + 

тАЬNone, father. What does it matter!тАЭ + 

Mr.┬аGradgrind had drawn his chair a little nearer to her, and taken her hand. But, her repetition of these words seemed to strike with some little discord on his ear. He paused to look at her, and, still holding her hand, said: + 

тАЬLouisa, I have not considered it essential to ask you one question, because the possibility implied in it appeared to me to be too remote. But perhaps I ought to do so. You have never entertained in secret any other proposal?тАЭ + 

тАЬFather,тАЭ she returned, almost scornfully, тАЬwhat other proposal can have been made to me? Whom have I seen? Where have I been? What are my heartтАЩs experiences?тАЭ + 

тАЬMy dear Louisa,тАЭ returned Mr.┬аGradgrind, reassured and satisfied. тАЬYou correct me justly. I merely wished to discharge my duty.тАЭ + 

тАЬWhat do I know, father,тАЭ said Louisa in her quiet manner, тАЬof tastes and fancies; of aspirations and affections; of all that part of my nature in which such light things might have been nourished? What escape have I had from problems that could be demonstrated, and realities that could be grasped?тАЭ As she said it, she unconsciously closed her hand, as if upon a solid object, and slowly opened it as though she were releasing dust or ash. + 

тАЬMy dear,тАЭ assented her eminently practical parent, тАЬquite true, quite true.тАЭ + 

тАЬWhy, father,тАЭ she pursued, тАЬwhat a strange question to ask me! The baby-preference that even I have heard of as common among children, has never had its innocent resting-place in my breast. You have been so careful of me, that I never had a childтАЩs heart. You have trained me so well, that I never dreamed a childтАЩs dream. You have dealt so wisely with me, father, from my cradle to this hour, that I never had a childтАЩs belief or a childтАЩs fear.тАЭ + 

Mr.┬аGradgrind was quite moved by his success, and by this testimony to it. тАЬMy dear Louisa,тАЭ said he, тАЬyou abundantly repay my care. Kiss me, my dear girl.тАЭ + 

So, his daughter kissed him. Detaining her in his embrace, he said, тАЬI may assure you now, my favourite child, that I am made happy by the sound decision at which you have arrived. Mr.┬аBounderby is a very remarkable man; and what little disparity can be said to exist between youтБатАФif anyтБатАФis more than counterbalanced by the tone your mind has acquired. It has always been my object so to educate you, as that you might, while still in your early youth, be (if I may so express myself) almost any age. Kiss me once more, Louisa. Now, let us go and find your mother.тАЭ + 

Accordingly, they went down to the drawing-room, where the esteemed lady with no nonsense about her, was recumbent as usual, while Sissy worked beside her. She gave some feeble signs of returning animation when they entered, and presently the faint transparency was presented in a sitting attitude. + 

тАЬMrs.┬аGradgrind,тАЭ said her husband, who had waited for the achievement of this feat with some impatience, тАЬallow me to present to you Mrs.┬аBounderby.тАЭ + 

тАЬOh!тАЭ said Mrs.┬аGradgrind, тАЬso you have settled it! Well, IтАЩm sure I hope your health may be good, Louisa; for if your head begins to split as soon as you are married, which was the case with mine, I cannot consider that you are to be envied, though I have no doubt you think you are, as all girls do. However, I give you joy, my dearтБатАФand I hope you may now turn all your ological studies to good account, I am sure I do! I must give you a kiss of congratulation, Louisa; but donтАЩt touch my right shoulder, for thereтАЩs something running down it all day long. And now you see,тАЭ whimpered Mrs.┬аGradgrind, adjusting her shawls after the affectionate ceremony, тАЬI shall be worrying myself, morning, noon, and night, to know what I am to call him!тАЭ + 

тАЬMrs.┬аGradgrind,тАЭ said her husband, solemnly, тАЬwhat do you mean?тАЭ + 

тАЬWhatever I am to call him, Mr.┬аGradgrind, when he is married to Louisa! I must call him something. ItтАЩs impossible,тАЭ said Mrs.┬аGradgrind, with a mingled sense of politeness and injury, тАЬto be constantly addressing him and never giving him a name. I cannot call him Josiah, for the name is insupportable to me. You yourself wouldnтАЩt hear of Joe, you very well know. Am I to call my own son-in-law, Mister! Not, I believe, unless the time has arrived when, as an invalid, I am to be trampled upon by my relations. Then, what am I to call him!тАЭ + 

Nobody present having any suggestion to offer in the remarkable emergency, Mrs.┬аGradgrind departed this life for the time being, after delivering the following codicil to her remarks already executed: + 

тАЬAs to the wedding, all I ask, Louisa, isтБатАФand I ask it with a fluttering in my chest, which actually extends to the soles of my feetтБатАФthat it may take place soon. Otherwise, I know it is one of those subjects I shall never hear the last of.тАЭ + 

When Mr.┬аGradgrind had presented Mrs.┬аBounderby, Sissy had suddenly turned her head, and looked, in wonder, in pity, in sorrow, in doubt, in a multitude of emotions, towards Louisa. Louisa had known it, and seen it, without looking at her. From that moment she was impassive, proud and coldтБатАФheld Sissy at a distanceтБатАФchanged to her altogether. + 