"A stocking full of money!" she would say, wiping her eyes; "there ain't no such thing. And as for eating, of course, I eats as much as I wants. 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. But it's a come-down in the world, Mr Whittlestaff."
"If you think I've come down in the world, you'd better keep it to yourself, and not tell me. I don't think that I've come down."
"You bear up against it finely like a man, sir; but for a poor woman like me, I do feel it." Such was Mrs Baggett and the record of her life. But this little conversation took place before the coming of Mary Lawrie.