"And you shouldn't speak against him behind his back, Jones. Who did it all? And who couldn't have done it if he hadn't been here?" When these words were afterwards told to George Robinson, he forgave Mr.

Brown a great deal.

The architect, acting under the direction of Mr. Robinson, had contrived to arch the roof, supporting it on five semicircular iron girders, which were left there visible to the eye, and which were of course painted magenta. On the foremost of these was displayed the name of the firm,--Brown, Jones, and Robinson. On the second, the name of the house,--Magenta House. On the third the number,--Nine times nine is eighty one. On the fourth, an edict of trade against which retail houses in the haberdashery line should never sin,--"Terms: Ready cash." And on the last, the special principle of our trade,--"Five-and-a-half per cent. profit." The back of the shop was closed in with magenta curtains, through which the bald head of Mr. Brown would not unfrequently be seen to emerge; and on each side of the curtains there stood a tall mirror, reaching up to the very ceiling. Upon the whole, the thing certainly was well done.

"But the contractor,"--the man who did the work was called the contractor,--"the contractor says that he will want the rest of his money in two months," said Mr. Brown, whining.

"He would not have wanted any for the next twelve months," answered Robinson, "if you had not insisted on paying him those few hundreds."

"You can find fault with the bill, you know," said Jones, "and delay it almost any time by threatening him with a lawyer."

"And then he will put a distress on us," said Mr. Brown.

"And after that will be very happy to take our bill at six months,"

answered Robinson. And so that matter was ended for the time.

Those men in armour stood there the whole of that day, and Fame in his gilded car used his trumpet up and down Bishopsgate Street with such effect, that the people living on each side of the street became very sick of him. Fame himself was well acted,--at 16_s._ the day,--and when the triumphal car remained still, stood balanced on one leg, with the other stretched out behind, in a manner that riveted attention. But no doubt his horn was badly chosen. Mr.

Robinson insisted on a long single-tubed instrument, saying that it was cla.s.sical; but a cornet a piston would have given more pleasure.

A good deal of money was taken on that day; but certainly not so much as had been antic.i.p.ated. Very many articles were asked for, looked at, and then not purchased. But this, though it occasioned grief to Mr. Brown, was really not of much moment. That the thing should be talked of,--if possible mentioned in the newspapers--was the object of the firm.

"I would give my bond for 2,000_l._," said Robinson, "to get a leader in the Jupiter."

The first article demanded over the counter was a real African monkey m.u.f.f, very superior, with long fine hair.

"The ships which are bringing them have not yet arrived from the coast," answered Jones, who luckily stepped up at the moment. "They are expected in the docks to-morrow."

CHAPTER VII.

MISS BROWN PLEADS HER OWN CASE, AND MR. ROBINSON WALKS ON BLACKFRIARS BRIDGE.

At the time of Mrs. Mcc.o.c.kerell's death Robinson and Maryanne Brown were not on comfortable terms with each other. She had twitted him with being remiss in a.s.serting his own rights in the presence of his rival, and he had accused her of being fickle, if not actually false.

"I shall be just as fickle as I please," she said. "If it suits me I'll have nine to follow me; but there shan't be one of the nine who won't hold up his head and look after his own."

"Your conduct, Maryanne--."

"George, I won't be scolded, and that you ought to know. If you don't like me, you are quite welcome to do the other thing." And then they parted. This took place after Mr. Brown's adherence to the Robinson interest, and while Brisket was waiting pa.s.sively to see if that five hundred pounds would be forthcoming.

Their next meeting was in the presence of Mr. Brown; and on that occasion all the three spoke out their intentions on the subject of their future family arrangements, certainly with much plain language, if not on every side with positive truth. Mr. Robinson was at the house in Smithfield, giving counsel to old Mr. Brown as to the contest which was then being urged between him and his son-in-law.

At that period the two sisters conceived that their joint pecuniary interests required that they should act together; and it must be acknowledged that they led poor Mr. Brown a sad life of it. He and Robinson were sitting upstairs in the little back room looking out into Spavinhorse Yard, when Maryanne abruptly broke in upon them.

"Father," she said, standing upright in the middle of the room before them, "I have come to know what it is that you mean to do?"

"To do, my dear?" said old Mr. Brown.

"Yes; to do. I suppose something is to be done some day. We ain't always to go on shilly-shallying, spending the money, and ruining the business, and living from hand to mouth, as though there was no end to anything. I've got myself to look to, and I don't mean to go into the workhouse if I can help it!"

"The workhouse, Maryanne!"

"I said the workhouse, father, and I meant it. If everybody had what was justly their own, I shouldn't have to talk in that way. But as far as I can see, them sharks, the lawyers, will have it all. Now, I'll tell you what it is--"

Hitherto Robinson had not said a word; but at this moment he thought it right to interfere. "Maryanne!" he said,--and, in p.r.o.nouncing the well-loved name, he threw into it all the affection of which his voice was capable,--"Maryanne!"

"'Miss Brown' would be a deal properer, and also much more pleasing, if it's all the same to you, sir!"

How often had he whispered "Maryanne" into her ears, and the dear girl had smiled upon him to hear herself so called! But he could not remind her of this at the present moment. "I have your father's sanction," said he--

"My father is nothing to me,--not with reference to what young man I let myself be called 'Maryanne' by. And going on as he is going on, I don't suppose that he'll long be much to me in any way."

"Oh, Maryanne!" sobbed the unhappy parent.

"That's all very well, sir, but it won't keep the kettle a-boiling!"

"As long as I have a bit to eat of, Maryanne, and a cup to drink of, you shall have the half."

"And what am I to do when you won't have neither a bit nor a cup?

That's what you're coming to, father. We can all see that. What's the use of all them lawyers?"

"That's Jones's doing," said Robinson.

"No; it isn't Jones's doing. And of course Jones must look after himself. I'm not partial to Jones. Everybody knows that. When Sarah Jane disgraced herself, and went off with him, I never said a word in her favour. It wasn't I who brought a viper into the house and warmed it in my bosom." It was at this moment that Jones was behaving with the most barefaced effrontery, as well as the utmost cruelty, towards the old man, and Maryanne's words cut her father to the very soul.

"Jones might have been anywhere for me," she continued; "but there he is downstairs, and Sarah Jane is with him. Of course they are looking for their own."

"And what is it you want, Maryanne?"

"Well; I'll tell you what I want. My dear sainted mother's last wish was that--I should become Mrs. Brisket!"

"And do you mean to say," said Robinson--"do you mean to say that that is now your wish?" And he looked at her till the audacity even of her eyes sank beneath the earnestness of his own. But though for the moment he quelled her eye, nothing could quell her voice.

"I mean to say," said she, speaking loudly, and with her arms akimbo, "that William Brisket is a very respectable young man, with a trade,--that he's got a decent house for a young woman to live in, and a decent table for her to sit at. And he's always been brought up decent, having been a regular 'prentice to his uncle, and all that sort of thing. He's never been wandering about like a vagrant, getting his money n.o.body knows how. William Brisket's as well known in Aldersgate Street as the Post Office. And moreover," she added, after a pause, speaking these last words in a somewhat milder breath--"And moreover, it was my sainted mother's wish!"

"Then go to him!" said Robinson, rising suddenly, and stretching out his arm against her. "Go to him, and perform your--sainted mother's wish! Go to the--butcher! Revel in his shambles, and grow fat and sleek in his slaughter-house! From this moment George Robinson will fight the world alone. Brisket, indeed! If it be accounted manliness to have killed hecatombs of oxen, let him be called manly!"

"He would have pretty nigh killed you, young man, on one occasion, if you hadn't made yourself scarce."

"By heavens!" exclaimed Robinson, "if he'll come forth, I'll fight him to-morrow;--with cleavers, if he will!"

"George, George, don't say that," exclaimed Mr. Brown. "'Let dogs delight to bark and bite.'"

"You needn't be afraid," said Maryanne. "He doesn't mean fighting,"

and she pointed to Robinson. "William would about eat him, you know, if they were to come together."

"Heaven forbid!" said Mr. Brown.