How we cite our quotes: Citations follow this format: (Book.Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #7
'Father,' [Louisa] returned, almost scornfully, 'what other proposal can have been made to me? Whom have I seen? Where have I been? What are my heart's experiences? […] What do I know, father,' said Louisa in her quiet manner, 'of 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? […] You have been so careful of me, that I never had a child's heart. You have trained me so well, that I never dreamed a child's dream. You have dealt so wisely with me, father, from my cradle to this hour, that I never had a child's belief or a child's fear.' Mr. Gradgrind was quite moved by his success, and by this testimony to it. 'My dear Louisa,' said he, 'you abundantly repay my care. Kiss me, my dear girl.' (1.15.46-51)
Louisa is talking about the fact that she has had no other marriage proposals aside from Bounderby's. So, it seems odd that she ends up talking about the way she differed from other children and their emotional lives. What's the connection between "a child's belief" or "a child's fear" and the fact that she doesn't know any people who could have fallen in love with her?
Quote #8
Mrs. Sparsit was conscious that by coming in the evening-tide among the desks and writing implements, she shed a feminine, not to say also aristocratic, grace upon the office. Seated, with her needlework or netting apparatus, at the window, she had a self-laudatory sense of correcting, by her ladylike deportment, the rude business aspect of the place. With this impression of her interesting character upon her, Mrs. Sparsit considered herself, in some sort, the Bank Fairy. The towns-people who, in their passing and repassing, saw her there, regarded her as the Bank Dragon keeping watch over the treasures of the mine. (2.1.9)
Mrs. Sparsit is the only woman in the novel who very self-consciously acts out what she believes to be socially acceptable feminine behavior. She has no idea what the bank does, or what the clerks do (she looks at the scraps of their writing and can't interpret them). But even when she is alone, like here, she makes sure to move around the bank in a "feminine" manner, congratulating herself on looking like "the Bank Fairy."
Quote #9
there presently entered to them the most remarkable girl Mr. James Harthouse had ever seen. She was so constrained, and yet so careless; so reserved, and yet so watchful; so cold and proud, and yet so sensitively ashamed of her husband's braggart humility — from which she shrunk as if every example of it were a cut or a blow; that it was quite a new sensation to observe her. In face she was no less remarkable than in manner. Her features were handsome, but their natural play was so locked up, that it seemed impossible to guess at their genuine expression. Utterly indifferent, perfectly self-reliant, never at a loss, and yet never at her ease, with her figure in company with them there, and her mind apparently quite alone — it was of no use 'going in' yet awhile to comprehend this girl, for she baffled all penetration. From the mistress of the house, the visitor glanced to the house itself. There was no mute sign of a woman in the room. No graceful little adornment, no fanciful little device, however trivial, anywhere expressed her influence. Cheerless and comfortless, boastfully and doggedly rich, there the room stared at its present occupants, unsoftened and unrelieved by the least trace of any womanly occupation. (2.2.22-23)
In the nineteenth century, the domestic space (a.k.a. the home) was supposed to be the woman's sphere, where she could express herself and use her power to create a safe, comfortable space. It's obviously significant that Louisa's house with Bounderby is just as blank as her face and body language, none of which display any significantly female or feminine traits beyond good looks.