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Updated: June 8, 2025
"My husband, sir; I won't deny him. He is the cross as I have to carry, and precious heavy he is. You must have heard of Sergeant Baggett; the most drunkenest, beastliest, idlest scoundrel as ever the Queen had in the army, and the most difficultest for a woman to put up with in the way of a husband!
He could not but see the drunken red-nosed man, and the old woman, whom he recognised as Mr Whittlestaff's servant, and a crowd of persons around, idlers out of Alresford, who had followed Sergeant Baggett up to the scene of his present exploits.
He ain't a-done nothing much to you, barring sleeping in the stable one night when he had had a drop o' drink too much." And the old woman pulled out a great handkerchief, and began to wipe her eyes piteously. "What a fool you are, Mrs Baggett." "Yes; I am a fool. I knows that." "Here's this disreputable old man eating and drinking your hard-earned wages." "But they are my wages.
You're going to have a good time. But it ain't for that, but for what your duty tells you. You that haven't a bit or a sup but what comes from him, and you to stand shilly-shallying! I can't abide the idea!" It was thus that Mrs Baggett taught her great lesson, the greatest lesson we may say which a man or a woman can learn.
Shall I send her?" Then she departed, and in a few minutes Mrs Baggett entered the room. "Come in, Mrs Baggett." "Yes, sir." "I have just a few words which I want to say to you. Your husband has gone back to Portsmouth?" "Yes sir; he have." This she said in a very decided tone, as though her master need trouble himself no further about her husband. "I am very glad that it should be so.
Mrs Baggett had been grossly impertinent in daring to talk to her of Mr Whittlestaff's wants. But then, as she walked slowly round the garden, she found herself bound to inquire of herself whether what the woman said had not been true. Did she not eat his bread; did she not wear his clothes; were not the very boots on her feet his property?
He's got a fancy into his mind, and why shouldn't he have his fancy?" "I don't know, I'm sure." But Mary did know. She did know what the fancy was, and why Mr Whittlestaff shouldn't have it. "I tell you fairly, Miss, there is nothing I hate so much as vagaries in young women." "I hope there are no vagaries to be hated in me, Mrs Baggett." "Well, I'm not quite so sure.
She knew that she at any rate was not to blame. She was struggling for the same end as Mrs Baggett, and did deserve better treatment. "You oughtn't to bother going up to London, sir, on any such errand, and so I tells you, Mr Whittlestaff," said Mrs Baggett. "I have told him the same thing myself," said Mary Lawrie, turning round.
He had always begun these exercises of thought, by telling himself that the world was a censorious old fool, and that he might do just as he pleased as to making any girl his daughter. But then, before dinner he had generally come to the conclusion that Mrs Baggett would not approve. Mrs Baggett was his housekeeper, and was to him certainly a person of importance.
In ten minutes the letter was gone, and half an hour afterwards Mr Whittlestaff had himself driven down to the station. "What is it he means, Miss?" said Mrs Baggett, when the master was gone. "I do not know," said Mary, who was in truth very angry with the old woman. "He wants to make you Mrs Whittlestaff." "In whatever he wants I shall obey him, if I only knew how."
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