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“Yes；” returned Stephen。 “He were ett’n and drinking—as large
and loud as a Hummobee。”
“Thank you！” said the old woman with infinite content。 “Thank
you！”
He certainly never had seen this old woman before。 Yet there
was a vague remembrance in his mind； as if he had more than
once dreamed of some old woman like her。
She walked along at his side； and； gently accommodating
himself to her humour； he said Coketown was a busy place； was it
not？ To which she answered “Eigh sure！ Dreadful busy！” Then he
said； she came from the country； he saw？ To which she answered
in the affirmative。
“By Parliamentary； this morning。 I came forty mile by
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Hard Times 104
Parliamentary this morning； and I’m going back the same forty
mile this afternoon。 I walked nine mile to the station this morning；
and if I find nobody on the road to give me a lift； I shall walk the
nine mile back tonight。 That’s pretty well； sir； at my age！” said the
chatty old woman； her eye brightening with exultation。
“Deed ’tis。 Don’t do’t too often； missus。”
“No； no。 Once a year；” she answered； shaking her head。 “I
spend my savings so； once every year。 I come regular； to tramp
about the streets； and see the gentlemen。”
“Only to see ’em？”
“That’s enough for me；” she replied； with great earnestness and
interest of manner。 “I ask no more！ I have been standing about on
this side of the way； to see that gentleman；” turning her head back
towards Mr Bounderby’s again； “come out。 But； he’s late this year；
and I have not seen him。 You came out instead。 Now if I am
obliged to go back without a glimpse of him—I only want a
glimpse—well！ I have seen you； and you have seen him； and I must
make that do。” Saying this； she looked at Stephen as if to fix his
features in her mind； and as her eye was not so bright as it had
been。
With a large allowance for difference of tastes； and with all
submission to the patricians of Coketown； this seemed so
extraordinary a source of interest to take so much trouble about；
that it perplexed him。 But they were passing the church now； and
his eye caught the clock； he quickened his pace。
He was going to his work？ the old woman said； quickening
hers； too； quite easily。 Yes； time was nearly out。 On his telling her
where he worked； the old woman became a more singular old
woman than before。
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“An’t you happy？” she asked him。
“Why—there’s awmost nobody but has their troubles； missus。”
He answered evasively； because the old woman appeared to take it
for granted that he would be very happy indeed； and he had not
the heart to disappoint her。 He knew that there was trouble
enough in the world； and if the old woman had lived so long； and
could count upon his having so little； why so much the better for
her； and none the worse for him。
“Ay； ay！ You have your troubles at home； you mean？” she said。
“Times。 Just now and then；” he answered slightly。
“But； working under such a gentleman； they don’t follow you to
the Factory？”
No； no； they didn’t follow him there； said Stephen。 All correct
there。 Everything accordant there。 （He did not go so far as to say；
for her pleasure； that there was a sort of Divine Right there； but； I
have heard claims almost as magnificent of late years。） They were
now in the black by…road near the place； and the Hands were
crowding in。 The bell was ringing； and the Serpent was a Serpent
of many coils； and the Elephant was getting ready。 The strange old
woman was delighted with the very bell。 It was the beautifullest
bell she had ever heard； she said； and sounded grand！
She asked him； when he stopped good…naturedly to shake
hands with her before going in； how long he had worked there？
“A dozen year；” he told her。
“I must kiss the hand；” said she； “that has worked in this fine
factory for a dozen years！” And she lifted it； though he would have
prevented her； and put it to her lips。 What harmony； besides her
age and her simplicity； surrounded her； he did not know； but even
in this fantastic action there was a something neither out of time
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nor place： a something which it seemed as if nobody else could
have made as serious； or done with such a natural and touching
air。
He had been at his loom full half an hour； thinking about this
old woman； when； having occasion to move round the loom for its
adjustment； he glanced through a window which was in his
corner； and saw her still looking up at the pile of building； lost in
admiration。 Heedless of the smoke and mud and wet； and of her
two long journeys； she was gazing at it； as if the heavy thrum that
issued from its many stories were proud music to her。
She was gone by…and…by； and the day went after her； and the
lights sprung up again； and the Express whirled in full sight of the
Fairy Palace over the arches near： little felt amid the jarring of the
machinery； and scarcely heard above its crash and battle。 Long
before then his thoughts had gone back to the dreary room above
the little shop； and to the shameful figure heavy on the bed； but
heavier on his heart。
Machinery slackened； throbbing feebly like a fainting pulse；
stopped。 The bell again； the glare of light and heat dispelled； the
factories； looming heavy in the black wet night—their tall
chimneys rising up into the air like competing Towers of Babel。
He had spoken to Rachael only last night； it was true； and had
walked with her a little way； but he had his new misfortune on him
in which no one else could give him a moment’s relief； and； for the
sake of it； and because he knew himself to want that softening of
his anger which no voice but hers could e