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Updated: June 8, 2025
"And I told him it should be as he would have it." "Of course you would. I knew that." "You told me that it was your duty and mine to give him whatever he wanted." "I didn't say nothing of the kind, Miss." "Oh, Mrs Baggett!" "I didn't. I said, if he wanted your head, you was to let him take it. But if he wanted mine, you wasn't to give it to him." "He asked me to be his wife, and I said I would."
Surely John Gordon had been foolish in remaining in the neighbourhood. Nothing but trouble could come of it. "So you are going to see this young man again!" This came from Mrs Baggett, who had been in great perturbation all the morning.
Just as he was about to collect his thoughts, so as to resolve what it might be his duty to do in regard to Mary, Mrs Baggett appeared before him on the walk with her bonnet on her head. "What are you going to do, you stupid woman?" "I am a-going with he," she said, in the midst of a torrent of sobs and tears. "It's a dooty. They says if you does your dooty all will come right in the end.
I ain't a-going to refuse to bear the burden which came to be my lot. I don't suppose he's earned a single shilling since he left the regiment, and that is hard upon a poor woman who's got nothing but her wages." "Now, look here, Mrs Baggett." "Yes, sir." "Send him your wages." "And have to go in rags myself, in your service." "You won't go in rags. Don't be a fool."
In the evening, when Mary and the maid-servants went to church, leaving Mrs Baggett at home to look after the house and go to sleep, Mr Whittlestaff walked off to the wooded path with his Horace. He did not read it very long. The bits which he did usually read never amounted to much at a time.
As for herself, her first duty in life was to look after him were he to be sick. Unfortunately Mr Whittlestaff never was sick, but Mrs Baggett was patiently looking forward to some happy day when he might be brought home with his leg broken. He had no imprudent habits, hunting, shooting, or suchlike; but chance might be good to her.
How it had come to pass that Mr Whittlestaff's establishment had been mounted with less of the paraphernalia of wealth than that of his parents, shall be told in the next chapter; but it was the case that Mrs Baggett, in her very heart of hearts, was deeply grieved at what she considered to be the poverty of her master.
He knew that the key was in his pocket, and found that there was a certain satisfaction in being stern and cruel. Mrs Baggett might sob her heart out after her box, and he would decline to be moved. "What'll I do about Baggett, sir?" said the poor woman, coming back. "He's a lying there at the gate, and the perlice doesn't like to touch him because of you, sir.
He's got his troubles before him now; that's the worst of it." This was very bad. Mrs Baggett had been loud in laying down for her the line of duty which she should follow, and she, to the best of her ability, had done as Mrs Baggett had told her. It was the case that Mrs Baggett had prevailed with her, and now the woman turned against her!
"Not on that account should you accept any man that you cannot love." Had she not told him that she did not love him; even that she loved another? And yet he spoke to her in this way! "You had better tell Mrs Baggett to come to me." "There is the memory of that other man," she murmured very gently. Then the scowl came back upon his face; or not a scowl, but a look rather of cold displeasure.
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