Feeling convinced that she was in imminent danger of becoming downright drunk if I gave her another glass, I kept my hand on the bottle, and forthwith told my story over again in a very abridged and unceremonious form, and without allowing her one moment of leisure for comment on my narrative, whether it might be of the weeping, winking, drinking, groaning, or ejaculating kind.  As I had anticipated, when I came to a conclusion, and consequently allowed her an opportunity of saying a few words, she affected to be extremely shocked and surprised at hearing of the nature of her master’s pursuits, and reproached me in terms of the most vehement and virtuous indignation for incurring the guilt of abetting them, even though I had done so from the very excusable motive of saving my own life.  Having a lively sense of the humorous, I was necessarily rather amused by this; but I began to get a little surprised as well, when we diverged to the subject of the doctor’s escape, on finding that Mrs. Baggs viewed the fact of his running away to some hiding-place of his own in the light of a personal insult to his faithful and attached housekeeper.

“It shows a want of confidence in me,” said the old lady, “which I may forgive, but can never forget.  The sacrifices I have made for that ungrateful man are not to be told in words.  The very morning he sent us away here, what did I do?  Packed up the moment he said Go.  I had my preserves to pot, and the kitchen chimney to be swept, and the lock of my box hampered into the bargain.  Other women in my place would have grumbled—­I got up directly, as lively as any girl of eighteen you like to mention.  Says he, ’I want Alicia taken out of young Softly’s way, and you must do it.’—–­Says I, ’This very morning, sir?’—­Says he, ’This very morning.’—­Says I, ’Where to?’—­Says he, ’As far off as ever you can go; coast of Wales—­Crickgelly.  I won’t trust her nearer; young Softly’s too cunning, and she’s too fond of him.’—­’Any more orders, sir?’ says I.—­’Yes; take some fancy name—­Simkins, Johnson, Giles, Jones, James,’ says he, ’what you like bu t Dulcifer; for that scamp Softly will move heaven and earth to trace her.’—­’What else?’ says I.—­’Nothing, but look sharp,’ says he; ’and mind one thing, that she sees no visitors, and posts no letters.’  Before those last words had been out of his wicked lips an hour, we were off.  A nice job I had to get her away—­a nice job to stop her from writing letters to you—­a nice job to keep her here.  But I did it; I followed my orders like a slave in a plantation with a whip at his bare back.  I’ve had rheumatics, weak legs, bad nights, and miss in the sulks—­all from obeying the doctor’s orders.  And what is my reward?  He turns coiner, and runs away without a word to me beforehand, and writes me a trumpery note, without a date to it, without a farthing of money in it, telling me nothing!  Look at my confidence in him, and then look at the way he’s treated me in return.  What woman’s nerves can stand that?  Don’t keep fidgeting with the bottle!  Pass it this way, Mr. Softly, or you’ll break it, and drive me distracted.”