as 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. If it were but for that word, Mrs
Baggett should not be allowed to leave his house.

But what as to Mary's love? Any such question was maunderingly soft.
It was not for him to ask it. He did believe in her altogether, and
was perfectly secure that his name and his honour were safe in her
hands. And she certainly would learn to love him. "She'll stand
the washing," he said to himself, repeating another morsel of Mrs
Baggett's wisdom. And thus he made up his mind that he would, on this
occasion, if only on this occasion, be stern and cruel. Surely a man
could bring himself to sternness and cruelty for once in his life,
when so much depended on it.

Having so resolved, he walked back into the house, intending to see
Mary Lawrie, and so to speak to her as to give her no idea of the
conversation which had taken place between him and John Gordon. It
would not be necessary, he thought, that he should mention to her
John Gordon's name any more. Let his marriage go on, as though there
were no such person as John Gordon. It would be easier to be stern
and cruel when he could enact the character simply by silence. He
would hurry on his wedding as quickly as she would allow him, and
then the good thing--the good that was to come out of sternness and
cruelty--would be achieved.

He went through from the library to knock at Mary's door, and in
doing so, had to pass the room in which Mrs Baggett had slept
tranquilly for fifteen years. There, in the doorway, was a big trunk,
and in the lock of the door was a key. A brilliant idea at once
occurred to Mr Whittlestaff. He shoved the big box in with his foot,
locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. At that moment the
heads of the gardener and the groom appeared up the back staircase,
and after them Mrs Baggett.

"Why, Mrs Baggett, the door is locked!" said the gardener.

"It is, to be sure," said the groom. "Why, Mrs Baggett, you must
have the key in your own pocket!"

"I ain't got no such thing. Do you bring the box down with you."

"I have got the key in my pocket," said Mr Whittlestaff, in a voice
of much authority. "You may both go down. Mrs Baggett's box is not