“Stop a bit!” cried his friend Bounderby.  “You have one of those Stroller’s children in the school, Cecilia Jupe by name!  I tell you what, Gradgrind, turn this girl to the right-about, and there is an end of it.”

“I am much of your opinion.”

“Do it at once,” said Bounderby, “has always been my motto.  Do you the same.  Do this at once!”

“I have the father’s address,” said his friend.  “Perhaps you would not mind walking to town with me?”

“Not the least in the world,” said Mr. Bounderby, “as long as you do it at once!”

So Mr. Gradgrind and his friend immediately set out to find Cecilia Jupe, and to order her from henceforth to remain away from school.  On the way there they met her.  “Now, girl,” said Mr. Gradgrind, “take this gentleman and me to your father’s; we are going there.  What have you got in that bottle you are carrying?”

“It’s the nine oils.”

“The what?” cried Mr. Bounderby.

“The nine oils, sir, to rub father with.  It is what our people always use, sir, when they get any hurts in the ring,” replied the girl, “they bruise themselves very bad sometimes.”

“Serves them right,” said Mr. Bounderby, “for being idle.”  The girl glanced up at his face with mingled astonishment and dread as he said this, but she led them on down a narrow road, until they stopped at the door of a little public house.

“This is it, sir,” she said.  “It’s only crossing the bar, sir, and up the stairs, if you wouldn’t mind; and waiting there for a moment till I get a candle.  If you should hear a dog, sir, it’s only Merrylegs, and he only barks.”

They followed the girl up some steep stairs, and stopped while she went on for a candle.  Reappearing, with a face of great surprise, she said, “Father is not in our room, sir.  If you wouldn’t mind walking in, sir?  I’ll find him directly.”

They walked in; and Sissy having set two chairs for them, sped away with a quick, light step.  They heard the doors of rooms above opening and shutting, as Sissy went from one to another in quest of her father.  She came bounding down again in a great hurry, opened an old hair trunk, found it empty, and looked around with her face full of terror.

“Father must have gone down to the Booth, sir.  I’ll bring him in a minute!” She was gone directly, without her bonnet; with her long, dark, childish hair streaming behind her.

“What does she mean!” said Mr. Gradgrind.  “Back in a minute?  It’s more than a mile off.”

Before Mr. Bounderby could reply, a young man mentioned in the bills of the day as Mr. E.W.B.  Childers,—­justly celebrated for his daring vaulting act as the wild huntsman of the North American prairies, appeared.  Upon entering into conversation with Mr. Gradgrind he informed that gentleman of his opinion that Jupe was off.

“Do you mean that he has deserted his daughter?” asked Mr. Gradgrind.