‘Ah-h!’ said Mrs Sparsit, shaking her head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp.

‘Mr Thomas, ma’am, I doubt Mr Thomas very much, ma’am, I don’t like his ways at all.’

‘Bitzer,’ said Mrs Sparsit, in a very impressive manner, ‘do you recollect my having said anything to you respecting names?’

‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. It’s quite true that you did object to names being used, and they’re always best avoided.’

‘Please to remember that I have a charge here,’ said Mrs Sparsit, with her air of state. ‘I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under Mr Bounderby. However improbable both Mr Bounderby and myself might have deemed it years ago, that he would ever become my patron, making me an annual compliment, I cannot but regard him in that light. From Mr Bounderby I have received every acknowledgment of my social station, and every recognition of my family descent, that I could possibly expect. More, far more. Therefore, to my patron I would be scrupulously true. And I do not consider, I will not consider, I cannot consider,’ said Mrs Sparsit, with a most extensive stock on hand of honour and morality, ‘that I should be scrupulously true, if I allowed names to be mentioned under this roof, that are unfortunately — most unfortunately — no doubt of that — connected with his.’

Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and again begged pardon.

‘No, Bitzer,’ continued Mrs Sparsit, ‘say an individual, and I will hear you; say Mr Thomas, and you must excuse me.’

‘With the usual exception, ma’am,’ said Bitzer, trying back, ‘of an individual.’

‘Ah-h!’ Mrs Sparsit repeated the ejaculation, the shake of the head over her tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the conversation again at the point where it had been interrupted.

‘An individual, ma’am,’ said Bitzer, ‘has never been what he ought to have been, since he first came into the place. He is a dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth his salt, ma’am. He wouldn’t get it either, if he hadn’t a friend and relation at court, ma’am!’

‘Ah-h!’ said Mrs Sparsit, with another melancholy shake of her head.

‘I only hope, ma’am,’ pursued Bitzer, ‘that his friend and relation may not supply him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise, ma’am, we know out of whose pocket that money comes.’

‘Ah-h!’ sighed Mrs Sparsit again, with another melancholy shake of her head.

‘He is to be pitied, ma’am. The last party I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma’am,’ said Bitzer.

‘Yes, Bitzer,’ said Mrs Sparsit. ‘I have always pitied the delusion, always.’

‘As to an individual, ma’am,’ said Bitzer, dropping his voice and drawing nearer, ‘he is as improvident as any of the people in this town. And you know what their improvidence is, ma’am. No one could wish to know it better than a lady of your eminence does.’

‘They would do well,’ returned Mrs Sparsit, ‘to take example by you, Bitzer.’

‘Thank you, ma’am. But, since you do refer to me, now look at me, ma’am. I have put by a little, ma’am, already. That gratuity which I receive at Christmas, ma’am: I never touch it. I don’t even go the length of my wages, though they’re not high, ma’am. Why can’t they do as I have done, ma’am? What one person can do, another can do.’