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Updated: June 8, 2025
"I don't care one straw for Mrs Baggett." It should be understood as having been uttered in direct opposition to the first assurance made by him, that "He'd be whipped if he'd have anything to do with her."
Mrs Baggett was supposed to have been born at Portsmouth, and, therefore, to allude to that one place which she knew in the world over and beyond the residences in which her master and her master's family had resided. Before I go on to describe the characters of Mr Whittlestaff and Miss Lawrie, I must devote a few words to the early life of Mrs Baggett.
Yours affectionately, We are not to return to the diamond-fields. I have promised Mr Whittlestaff that it shall be so. Mary, when she received this letter, retired into her own room to read it. For indeed her life in public, her life, that is, to which Mrs Baggett had access, had been in some degree disturbed since the departure of the master of the house.
If there was to be weakness displayed, it would be in himself. Mary would be true to her promise; true to her faith, true to the arrangement made for her own life. She would not provoke him with arguments as to her love for John Gordon; and, as Mrs Baggett had assured him, even in her thoughts she would not go astray.
"And you have never been away." "Oh, no! why should I go away? What business can a woman have to move from home, especially such a woman as I am." "You are just like Mrs Baggett. She always talks of women with supreme contempt. And yet she is just as proud of herself as the queen when you come to contradict her." "You never contradict me." "Perhaps the day may come when I shall."
"If I understand you rightly, the gentleman never addressed you as a lover." "Never!" "I see it all, Mary. Mrs Baggett has been violent and selfish, and has made you think thoughts which should not have been put in your head to disturb you. You have dreamed a dream in your early life, as girls do dream, I suppose, and it has now to be forgotten. Is it not so?" "I suppose it was a dream."
She had thought it over, and had endeavoured to persuade herself that Mr Whittlestaff did not care about it very much. Indeed there were moments during the week in which she flattered herself that if she would abstain from "sitting close up to him," he would say nothing about it. But she resolved altogether that she would not display her anger to Mrs Baggett.
Of all those vacillating softnesses he knew nothing, or of those moments spent with the poet, in which he was wont to fight against the poet's pretences, and of those other moments spent with Mrs Baggett, in which he would listen to, and always finally reject, those invitations to manly strength which she would always pour into his ears.
I eats more than I wants, if you come to that." "Then you're very greedy." "But to think that you shouldn't have a man in a black coat to pour out a glass of wine for you, sir!" "I never drink wine, Mrs Baggett." "Well, whisky. I suppose a fellow like that wouldn't be above pouring out a glass of whisky for a gentleman; though there's no knowing now what those fellows won't turn up their noses at.
He rarely spoke of his mother, had never, up to this period at which our tale finds him, mentioned his mother's name to any of those about him. Mrs Baggett would speak of her, saying much in the praise of her old mistress. Mr Whittlestaff would smile and seem pleased, and so the subject would pass away.
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