CHAPTER XVII.
A TEA-PARTY IN BISHOPSGATE STREET.
If it shall appear to those who read these memoirs that there wasmuch in the conduct of Mr. Brown which deserves censure, let themalso remember how much there was in his position which demands pity.In this short narrative it has been our purpose to set forth thecommercial doings of the house of Brown, Jones, and Robinson, ratherthan the domestic life of the partners, and, therefore, it has beenimpossible to tell of all the trials through which Mr. Brown passedwith his children. But those trials were very severe, and if Mr.Brown was on certain points untrue to the young partner who trustedhim, allowances for such untruth must be made. He was untrue; butthere is one man, who, looking back upon his conduct, knows how toforgive it.
The scenes upstairs at Magenta House during that first week in Augusthad been very terrible. Mr. Brown, in his anxiety to see his daughtersettled, had undoubtedly pledged himself to abandon the rooms inwhich he lived, and to take lodgings elsewhere. To this promisedself-sacrifice Maryanne was resolved to keep him bound; and when somehesitation appeared on his part, she swore to him that nothing shouldinduce her to become Mrs. Robinson till he had packed his thingsand was gone. Mr. Brown had a heart to feel, and at this moment hecould have told how much sharper than a serpent's tooth is a child'singratitude!
But he would have gone; he would have left the house, although he hadbegun to comprehend that in leaving it he must probably lose much ofhis authority over the money taken in the shop; he would, however,have done so, had not Mrs. Jones come down upon him with the wholeforce of her tongue, and the full violence of her malice. WhenRobinson should have become one with Maryanne Brown, and should alsohave become the resident partner, then would the influence of Mrs.Jones in that establishment have been brought to a speedy close.
The reader shall not be troubled with those frightful quarrels inwhich each of the family was pitted against the others. Sarah Janedeclared to her father, in terms which no child should have used toher parent, that he must be an idiot and doting if he allowed hisyoungest daughter and her lover to oust him from his house and fromall share in the management of the business. Brown then appealedpiteously to Maryanne, and begged that he might be allowed to occupya small closet as his bed-room. But Maryanne was inexorable. He hadundertaken to go, and unless he did go she would never omit to dininto his ears this breach of his direct promise to her. Maryannebecame almost great in her anger, as with voice raised so as to drownher sister's weaker tones, she poured forth her own story of her ownwrongs.
"It has been so from the beginning," she said. "When I first knewBrisket, it was not for any love I had for the man, but becausemother took him up. Mother promised him money; and then I saidI'd marry him,--not because I cared for him, but because he wasrespectable and all right. And then mother hadn't the money when thepinch came, and, of course, Brisket wasn't going to be put upon;--whyshould he? So I took up with Robinson, and you knew it, father."
"I did, Maryanne; I did."
"Of course you did. I wasn't going to make a fool of myself for noman. I have got myself to look to; and if I don't do it myself, theywho is about me won't do it for me."
"Your old father would do anything for you."
"Father, I hate words! What I want is deeds. Well, then;--Robinsoncame here and was your partner, and meanwhile I thought it was allright. And who was it interfered? Why, you did. When Brisket went toyou, you promised him the money: and then he went and upset Robinson.And we had that supper in Smithfield, and Robinson was off, and I wasto be Mrs. Brisket out of hand. But then, again, the money wasn'tthere."
"I couldn't make the money, Maryanne."
"Father, it's a shame for you to tell such falsehoods before your owndaughters."
"Oh, Maryanne! you wicked girl!" said Sarah Jane.
"If I'm wicked, there's two of us so, Sarah Jane! You had the money,and you gave it to Robinson for them notices of his. I know all aboutit now! And then what could you expect of Brisket? Of course he wasoff. There was no fal-lal about love, and all that, with him. Hewanted a woman to look after his house; but he wanted something withher. And I wanted a roof over my head;--which I'm not likely to have,the way you're going on."
"While I have a morsel, you shall have half."
"And when you haven't a morsel, how will it be then? Of course whenI saw all this, I felt myself put upon. There was Jones getting hismoney out of the shop!"
"Well, miss," said Sarah Jane; "and isn't he a partner?"
"You ain't a partner, and I don't know what business you have there.But every one was helping themselves except me. I was going to thewall. I have always been going to the wall. Well; when Brisket wasoff, I took up with Robinson again. I always liked him the best, onlyI never thought of my own likings. I wasn't that selfish. I took upwith Robinson again; but I wasn't going to be any man's wife, if hecouldn't put a roof over my head. Well, father, you know what wassaid then, and now you're going back from it."
"I suppose you'd better have Mr. Brisket," said the old man, after apause.
"Will you give Brisket those five hundred pounds?" And then thoseembassies to Aldersgate Street were made by Mrs. Poppins and by Mr.Jones. During this time Maryanne, having spoken her mind freely,remained silent and sullen. That her father would not go out on theappointed day, she knew. That she would not marry Robinson unless hedid, she knew also. She did not like Brisket; but, as she had said,she was not so selfish as to let that stand in the way. If it was tobe Brisket, let it be Brisket. Only let something be done.
Only let something be done. It certainly was not a matter of surprisethat she should demand so much. It must be acknowledged that allconnected with the firm and family began to feel that the house ofBrown, Jones, and Robinson, had not succeeded in establishing itselfon a sound basis. Mr. Brown was despondent, and often unwell. TheJones's were actuated by no ambition to raise themselves to theposition of British merchants, but by a greedy desire to get whatlittle might be gotten in the scramble. Robinson still kept hisshoulder to the collar, but he did so with but little hope. He hadmade a fatal mistake in leaguing himself with uncongenial partners,and began to feel that this mistake must be expiated by the ruin ofhis present venture. Under such circumstances Maryanne Brown was notunreasonable in desiring that something should be done. She had nowgiven a tacit consent to that plan for bringing back Brisket, andconsequently her brother-in-law went at once to work.
It must be acknowledged that the time was short. When Brisket, withsuch easy indifference, postponed his visit to Bishopsgate Streettill the Saturday, giving to Gogham Market and the slaughtering ofhis beasts a preference to the renewal of his love, he regarded thetask before him as a light one. But it must be supposed that it wasno light task to Miss Brown. On the Tuesday following that Saturday,she would, if she were true to her word, join herself in wedlock toGeorge Robinson. She now purposed to be untrue to her word; but itmust be presumed that she had some misgivings at the heart when shethought of the task before her.
On the Thursday and the Friday she managed to avoid Robinson. On theSaturday morning they met in her father's room for a minute, and whenhe attempted to exercise a privilege to which his near approachingnuptials certainly entitled him, she repulsed him sullenly: "Oh,come; none of that." "I shall require the more on Tuesday," hereplied, with his ordinary good-humour. She spoke nothing further tohim then, but left the room and went away to her friend Mrs. Poppins.
Robinson belonged to a political debating club, which met on everySaturday evening at the "Goose and Gridiron" in one of the lanesbehind the church in Fleet Street. It was, therefore, considered thatthe new compact might be made in Bishopsgate Street on that eveningwithout any danger of interruption from him. But at the hour ofdinner on that day, a word was whispered into his ear by Poppins. "Idon't suppose you care about it," said he, "but there's going to besome sort of doing at the old man's this evening."
"What doing?"
"It's all right, I suppose; but Brisket is going to be there
. It'sjust a farewell call, I suppose."
"Brisket with my love!" said Robinson. "Then will I be there also."
"Don't forget that you've got to chaw up old Crowdy on the paperquestion. What will the Geese do if you're not there?" The club inquestion was ordinarily called the Goose Club, and the members werein common parlance called "The Geese."
"I will be there also," said Robinson. "But if I should be late, youwill tell the Geese why it is so."
"They all know you are going to be married," said Poppins. And thenthey parted.
The hour at which the parliament of the Geese assembled was, as arule, a quarter before eight in the evening, so that the debate mightabsolutely begin at eight. Seven was the hour for tea in BishopsgateStreet, but on the present occasion Brisket was asked for half-pastseven, so that Robinson's absence might be counted on as a certainty.At half-past seven to the moment Brisket was there, and the greetingbetween him and Maryanne was not of a passionate nature.
"Well, old girl, here I am again," he said, as he swung his burlybody into the room.
"I see you," she said, as she half reluctantly gave him her hand."But remember, it wasn't me who sent for you. I'd just as lief youstayed away." And then they went to business.
Both Jones and his wife were there; and it may perhaps be said, thatif Maryanne Brown had any sincerity of feeling at her heart, it wasone of hatred for her brother-in-law. But now, this new change in herfortunes was being brought about by his interference, and he was, asit were, acting as her guardian. This was very bitter to her, and shesat on one side in sullen silence, and to all appearance paid no heedto what was being said.
The minds of them all were so intent on the business part of thetransaction that the banquet was allowed to remain untouched till allthe preliminaries were settled. There was the tea left to draw tillit should be as bitter as Maryanne's temper, and the sally lunswere becoming as cold as Sarah Jane's heart. Mr. Brown did, in somehalf-bashful manner, make an attempt at performing the duties of ahost. "My dears, won't Mr. Brisket have his dish of tea now it'shere?" But "my dears" were deaf to the hint. Maryanne still satsullen in the corner, and Sarah Jane stood bolt upright, with earserect, ready to listen, ready to speak, ready to interfere withviolence should the moment come when anything was to be gained on herside by doing so.
They went to the work in hand, with very little of the preamble ofcourtesy. Yes; Brisket would marry her on the terms proposed byJones. He could see his way if he had a hundred pounds down, and thebill of the Firm at three months for the remaining sum.
"Not three months, Brisket; six months," suggested Brown. But in thismatter Brisket was quite firm, and Mr. Brown gave way.
But, as all of them knew, the heat of the battle would concern thenames which were to be written on the bill. Brisket demanded thatthe bill should be from the firm. Jones held that as a majority ofthe firm were willing that this should be so, Mr. Brown was legallyentitled to make the bill payable at the bank out of the funds of thehouse. In this absurd opinion he was supported violently by his wife.Brisket, of course, gave no opinion on the subject. It was not forhim to interfere among the partners. All he said was, that the billof the firm had been promised to him, and that he shouldn't see hisway with anything else. Mr. Brown hesitated,--pondering painfullyover the deed he was called upon to do. He knew that he was beingasked to rob the man he loved;--but he knew also, that if he did notdo so, he must go forth from his home. And then, when he might be inwant of comfort, the child for whose sake he should do so would turnfrom him without love or pity.
"Jones and me would do it together," said Mr. Brown.
"Jones won't do nothing of the kind," said Jones's careful wife.
"It would be no good if he did," said Brisket. "And, I'll tell youwhat it is, I'm not going to be made a fool of; I must know how it'sto be at once, or I'm off." And he put out his hand as though to takeup his hat.
"What fools you are!" said Maryanne, speaking from her chair in thecorner. "There's not one of you knows George Robinson. Ask him togive his name to the bill, and he'll do it instantly."
"Who is it wants the name of George Robinson?" said the voice of thatinjured man, as at the moment he entered the room. "George Robinsonis here." And then he looked round upon the assembled councillors,and his eyes rested at last with mingled scorn and sorrow upon theface of Maryanne Brown;--with mingled scorn and sorrow, but not withanger. "George Robinson is here; who wants his name?--and why?"
"Will you take a cup of tea, George?" said Mr. Brown, as soon as hewas able to overcome his first dismay.
"Maryanne," said Robinson, "why is that man here?" and he pointed toBrisket.
"Ask them," said Maryanne, and she turned her face away from him, intowards the wall.
"Mr. Brown, why is he here? Why is your daughter's former lover hereon the eve of her marriage with me?"
"I will answer that question, if you please," said Jones, steppingup.
"You!" And Robinson, looking at him from head to foot, silenced himwith his look. "You answer me! From you I will take no answer in thismatter. With you I will hold no parley on this subject. I have spokento two whom I loved, and they have given me no reply. There is onehere whom I do not love and he shall answer me. Mr. Brisket, though Ihave not loved you, I have believed you to be an honest man. Why areyou here?"
"To see if we can agree about my marrying that young woman," saidBrisket, nodding at her with his head, while he still kept his handsin his trousers' pockets.
"Ah! Is it so? There she is, Mr. Brisket; and now, for the thirdtime, I shall go out from your presence, renouncing her charms inyour favour. When first I did so at the dancing-room, I was afraid ofyour brute strength, because the crowd was looking on and I knew youcould carry out your unmanly threat. And when I wrote that paper thesecond time, you had again threatened me, and I was again afraid. Myheart was high on other matters, and why should I have sacrificedmyself? Now I renounce her again; but I am not afraid,--for my heartis high on nothing."
"George, George!" said Maryanne, jumping from her seat. "Leave him,leave him, and I'll promise--" And then she seized hold of his arm.For the moment some touch of a woman's feeling had reached her heart.At that instant she perhaps recognized,--if only for the instant,that true love is worth more than comfort, worth more than wellassured rations of bread and meat, and a secure roof. For that onceshe felt rather than understood that an honest heart is better than astrong arm. But it was too late.
Robinson defies his rival.]
"No," said he, "I'll have no promise from you;--your words are false.I've humbled myself as the dust beneath your feet, because I lovedyou,--and, therefore, you have treated me as the dust. The man whowill crawl to a woman will ever be so treated."
"You are about right there, old fellow," said Brisket.
"Leave me, I say." For still she held his arm. She still held hisarm, for she saw by his eye what he intended, though no one else hadseen.
"You have twitted me with my cowardice," he said; "but you shallsee that I am no coward. He is the coward!" and he pointed with hisfinger to Brisket. "He is the coward, for he will undergo no risk."And then, without further notice, George Robinson flew at thebutcher's throat.
It was very clear that Brisket himself had suspected no such attack,for till the moment at which he felt Robinson's fingers about hiscravat, he had still stood with his hands in the pockets of histrousers. He was very strong, and when his thoughts were well made upto the idea of a fight, could in his own way be quick enough with hisfists; but otherwise he was slow in action, nor was he in any waypassionate.
"Halloo," he said, striving to extricate himself, and hardly ableto articulate, as the handkerchief tightened itself about his neck."Ugh-h-h." And getting his arm round Robinson's ribs he tried tosqueeze his assailant till he should drop his hold.
"I will have his tongue from his mouth," shouted Robinson, and as hespoke, he gave another twist to the handkerchief.
"Oh, laws," said Mrs. Jones. "The poor man
will be choked," and shelaid hold of the tail of Robinson's coat, pulling at it with all herstrength.
"Don't, don't," said Mr. Brown. "George, George, you shall have her;indeed you shall,--only leave him."
Maryanne the while looked on, as ladies of yore did look on whenknights slaughtered each other for their smiles. And perhaps of yorethe hearts of those who did look on were as cold and callous as washers. For one moment of enthusiasm she had thought she loved, but nowagain she was indifferent. It might be settled as well this way asany other.
At length Brisket succeeded in actually forcing his weak assailantfrom him, Mrs. Jones the while lending him considerable assistance;and then he raised his heavy fist. Robinson was there opposite tohim, helpless and exhausted, just within his reach; and he raised hisheavy fist to strike him down.
He raised his fist, and then he let it fall. "No," said he; "I'mblowed if I'll hit you. You're better stuff than I thought you was.And now look here, young man; there she is. If she'll say that she'llhave you, I'll walk out, and I won't come across you or she anymore."
Maryanne, when she heard this, raised her face and looked steadily atRobinson. If, however, she had any hope, that hope was fruitless.
"I have renounced her twice," said he, "and now I renounce heragain. It is not now from fear. Mr. Brown, you have my authority foraccepting that bill in the name of the Firm." Then he left the roomand went forth into the street.