ote a few words to the early life of Mrs
Baggett. Dorothy Tedcaster had been born in the house of Admiral
Whittlestaff, the officer in command at the Portsmouth dockyard.
There her father or her mother had family connections, to visit whom
Dorothy, when a young woman, had returned from the then abode of her
loving mistress, Mrs Whittlestaff. With Mrs Whittlestaff she had
lived absolutely from the hour of her birth, and of Mrs Whittlestaff
her mind was so full, that she did conceive her to be superior, if
not absolutely in rank, at any rate in all the graces and favours of
life, to her Majesty and all the royal family. Dorothy in an evil
hour went back to Portsmouth, and there encountered that worst of
military heroes, Sergeant Baggett. With many lamentations, and
confessions as to her own weakness, she wrote to her mistress,
acknowledging that she did intend to marry "B." Mrs Whittlestaff
could do nothing to prevent it, and Dorothy did marry "B." Of the
misery and ill-usage, of the dirt and poverty, which poor Dorothy
Baggett endured during that year, it needs not here to tell. That
something had passed between her and her old mistress when she
returned to her, must, I suppose, have been necessary. But of her
married life, in subsequent years, Mrs Baggett never spoke at all.
Even the baker only knew dimly that there had been a Sergeant Baggett
in existence. Years had passed since that bad quarter of an hour
in her life, before Mrs Baggett had been made over to her present
master. And he, though he probably knew something of the abominable
Sergeant, never found it necessary to mention his name. For this Mrs
Baggett was duly thankful, and would declare among all persons, the
baker included, that "for a gentleman to be a gentleman, no gentleman
was such a gentleman" as her master.

It was now five-and-twenty years since the Admiral had died, and
fifteen since his widow had followed him. During the latter period
Mrs Baggett had lived at Croker's Hall with Mr Whittlestaff, and
within that period something had leaked out as to the Sergeant. 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. "You're a stupid
old fool, Mrs Baggett," her master would say, when i