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a series of years； at home as a cupboard； and on journeys as a
carpet bag。 She never puts it up； having the greatest reliance on
her well…proved cloak with its capacious hood； but generally uses
the instrument as a wand with which to point out joints of meat or
bunches of greens in marketing； or to arrest the attention of
tradesmen by a friendly poke。 Without her market…basket； which
is a sort of wicker well with two flapping lids； she never stirs
abroad。 Attended by these her trusty companions； therefore； her
honest sunburnt face looking cheerily out of a rough straw bonnet；
Mrs Bagnet now arrives； fresh…coloured and bright； in George’s
Shooting Gallery。
“Well； George； old fellow；” says she； “and how do you do； this
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sunshiny morning？”
Giving him a friendly shake of the hand； Mrs Bagnet draws a
long breath after her walk； and sits down to enjoy a rest。 Having a
faculty； matured on the tops of baggage…wagons； and in other such
positions； of resting easily anywhere； she perches on a rough
bench； unties her bonnet strings； pushes back her bonnet； crosses
her arms； and looks perfectly comfortable。
Mr Bagnet； in the mean time； has shaken hands with his old
comrade； and with Phil： on whom Mrs Bagnet likewise bestows a
good…humoured nod and smile。
“Now； George；” says Mrs Bagnet； briskly； “here we are； Lignum
and myself；” she often speaks of her husband by this appellation；
on account； as it is supposed； of Lignum Vitae having been his old
regimental nickname when they first became acquainted； in
compliment to the extreme hardness and toughness of his
physiognomy； “just looked in； we have； to make it all correct as
usual about that security。 Give him the new bill to sign； George；
and he’ll sign it like a man。”
“I was coming to you this morning；” observes the trooper；
reluctantly。
“Yes； we thought you’d come to us this morning； but we turned
out early； and left Woolwich； the best of boys； to mind his sisters；
and came to you instead—as you see！ For Lignum； he’s tied so
close now； and gets so little exercise； that a walk does him good。
But what’s the matter； George？” asks Mrs Bagnet； stopping in her
cheerful talk。 “You don’t look yourself。”
“I am not quite myself；” returns the trooper； “I have been a
little put out； Mrs Bagnet。”
Her bright quick eye catches the truth directly。 “George！”
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Bleak House 656
holding up her forefinger。 “Don’t tell me there’s anything wrong
about that security of Lignum’s！ Don’t do it； George； on account of
the children！”
The trooper looks at her with a troubled visage。
“George；” says Mrs Bagnet； using both her arms for emphasis；
and occasionally bringing down her open hands upon her knees。
“If you have allowed anything wrong to come to that security of
Lignum’s； and if you have let him in for it； and if you have put us
in danger of being sold up—and I see sold up in your face； George；
as plain as print—you have done a shameful action； and deceived
us cruelly。 I tell you； cruelly； George。 There！”
Mr Bagnet； otherwise as immovable as a pump or a lamp…post；
puts his large right hand on the top of his bald head； as if to defend
it from a shower…bath； and looks with great uneasiness at Mrs
Bagnet。
“George！” says that old girl。 “I wonder at you！ George； I am
ashamed of you！ George； I couldn’t have believed you would have
done it！ I always knew you to be a rolling stone that gathered no
moss； but I never thought you would have taken away what little
moss there was for Bagnet and the children to lie upon。 You know
what a hard…working steady…going chap he is。 You know that
Quebec and Malta and Woolwich are—and I never did think you
would； or could； have had the heart to serve us so。 O George！” Mrs
Bagnet gathers up her cloak to wipe her eyes on； in a very genuine
manner； “How could you do it？”
Mrs Bagnet ceasing； Mr Bagnet removes his hand from his
head as if the shower…bath were over； and looks disconsolately at
Mr George； who has turned quite white； and looks distressfully at
the grey cloak and straw bonnet。
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“Mat；” says the trooper； in a subdued voice； addressing him；
but still looking at his wife； “I am sorry you take it so much to
heart； because I do hope it’s not so bad as that comes to。 I certainly
have； this morning； received this letter； which he reads aloud； “but
I hope it may be set right yet。 As to a rolling stone； why； what you
say is true。 I am a rolling stone； and I never rolled in anybody’s
way； I fully believe； that I rolled the least good to。 But it’s
impossible for an old vagabond comrade to like your wife and
family better than I like ’em； Mat； and I trust you’ll look upon me
as forgivingly as you can。 Don’t think I’ve kept anything from you。
I haven’t had the letter more than a quarter of an hour。”
“Old girl！” murmurs Mr Bagnet； after a short silence； “will you
tell him my opinion？”
“O！ Why didn’t he marry；” Mrs Bagnet answers； half laughing
and half crying； “Joe Pouch’s widder in North America？ Then he
wouldn’t have got himself into these troubles。”
“The old girl；” says Mr Bagnet； “puts it correct—why didn’t
you？”
“Well； she has a better husband by this time； I hope；” returns
the trooper。 “Anyhow； here I stand； this present day； not married
to Joe Pouch’s widder。 What shall I do？ You see all I have got
about me。 It’s not mine； it’s yours。 Give the word； and I’ll sell off
every morsel。 If I could have hoped it would have brought in
nearly the sum wanted； I’d have sold all long ago。 Don’t believe
that I’ll leave you or yours in the lurch； Mat。 I’d sell myself first。 I
only wish；” says the trooper； giving himself a disparaging blow in
the chest； “that I knew of anyone who’d buy such a second…hand
piece of old stores。”
Old girl；” murmurs Mr Bagnet； “give him another bit of my
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mind。”
“George；” says the old girl； “you are not so much to be blamed；
on full consideration； except for ever taking this business without
the means。”
“And that was like me！” observed the penitent trooper； shaking
his head。 “Like me； I know。”
“Silence！ The old girl；” says Mr Bagnet； “is correct—in her way
of giving my opinions—hear me out！”
“That was when you never ought to