The Struggles of Brown, Jones, and Robinson, Page 3

  CHAPTER III.

  THE EARLY HISTORY OF MR. ROBINSON.

  And haberdashery it was. But here it may be as well to say a fewwords as to Mr. Robinson, and to explain how he became a member ofthe firm. He had been in his boyhood,--a bill-sticker; and he defiesthe commercial world to show that he ever denied it. In his earlierdays he carried the paste and pole, and earned a livelihood byputting up notices of theatrical announcements on the hoardings ofthe metropolis. There was, however, that within him which Naturedid not intend to throw away on the sticking of bills, as was foundout quickly enough by those who employed him. The lad, while he wasrunning the streets with his pole in his hand, and his pot round hisneck, learned first to read, and then to write what others mightread. From studying the bills which he carried, he soon took tooriginal composition; and it may be said of him, that in fluency oflanguage and richness of imagery few surpassed him. In person Mr.Robinson was a genteel young man, though it cannot be said of himthat he possessed manly beauty. He was slight and active, intelligentin his physiognomy, and polite in his demeanour. Perhaps it may beunnecessary to say anything further on this head.

  Mr. Robinson had already established himself as an author in hisown line, and was supporting himself decently by his own unaidedabilities, when he first met Maryanne Brown in the Regent's Park.She was then walking with her sister, and resolutely persisted indisregarding all those tokens of admiration which he found himselfunable to restrain.

  There certainly was a dash about Maryanne Brown that at certainmoments was invincible. Hooped petticoats on the back of her sisterlooked like hoops, and awkward hoops. They were angular, lopsided,and lumpy. But Maryanne wore her hoops as a duchess wears hercrinoline. Her well-starched muslin dress would swell off from herwaist in a manner that was irresistible to George Robinson. "Suchgrouping!" as he said to his friend Walker. "Such a flow of drapery!such tournure! Ah, my dear fellow, the artist's eye sees these thingsat a glance." And then, walking at a safe distance, he kept his eyeson them.

  "I'm sure that fellow's following us," said Sarah Jane, looking backat him with all her scorn.

  "There's no law against that, I suppose," said Maryanne, tartly. Somuch as that Mr. Robinson did succeed in hearing.

  The girls entered their mother's house; but as they did so, Maryannelingered for a moment in the doorway. Was it accident, or was it not?Did the fair girl choose to give her admirer one chance, or was itthat she was careful not to crush her starch by too rapid an entry?

  "I shall be in Regent's Park on Sunday afternoon," whisperedRobinson, as he passed by the house, with his hand to his mouth. Itneed hardly be said that the lady vouchsafed him no reply.

  On the following Sunday George Robinson was again in the park,and after wandering among its rural shades for half a day, he wasrewarded by seeing the goddess of his idolatry. Miss Brown was therewith a companion, but not with Sarah Jane. He had already, as thoughby instinct, conceived in his heart as powerful an aversion for onesister as affection for the other, and his delight was thereforeunbounded when he saw that she he loved was there, while she he hatedwas away.

  'Twere long to tell, at the commencement of this narrative, how acourtship was commenced and carried on; how Robinson sighed, at firstin vain and then not in vain; how good-natured was Miss Twizzle, thebosom friend of Maryanne; and how Robinson for a time walked andslept and fed on roses.

  There was at that time a music class held at a certain elegant roomnear Osnaburgh Church in the New Road, at which Maryanne and herfriend Miss Twizzle were accustomed to attend. Those lessons weresometimes prosecuted in the evening, and those evening studiessometimes resulted in a little dance. We may say that after a whilethat was their habitual tendency, and that the lady pupils werepermitted to introduce their male friends on condition that thegentlemen paid a shilling each for the privilege. It was in that roomthat George Robinson passed the happiest hours of his chequeredexistence. He was soon expert in all the figures of the mazy dance,and was excelled by no one in the agility of his step or theendurance of his performances. It was by degrees rumoured aboutthat he was something higher than he seemed to be, and those bestaccustomed to the place used to call him the Poet. It must beremembered that at this time Mrs. McCockerell was still alive, andthat as Sarah Jane had then become Mrs. Jones, Maryanne was hermother's favourite, and destined to receive all her mother's gifts.Of the name and person of William Brisket, George Robinson was thenin happy ignorance, and the first introduction between them tookplace in the Hall of Harmony.

  'Twas about eleven o'clock in the evening, when the light feet ofthe happy dancers had already been active for some hour or so in theworship of their favourite muse, that Robinson was standing up withhis arm round his fair one's waist, immediately opposite to the doorof entrance. His right arm still embraced her slight girdle, whilstwith his left hand he wiped the perspiration from his brow. Sheleaned against him palpitating, for the motion of the music had beenquick, and there had been some amicable contest among the couples.It is needless to say that George Robinson and Maryanne Brown hadsuffered no defeat. At that moment a refreshing breeze of the nightair was wafted into the room from the opened door, and Robinson,looking up, saw before him a sturdy, thickset man, with mottled beefyface, and by his side there stood a spectre. "It's your sister,"whispered he to Maryanne, in a tone of horror.

  "Oh, laws! there's Bill," said she, and then she fainted. Thegentleman with the mottled face was indeed no other than Mr. Brisket,the purveyor of meat, for whose arms Mrs. McCockerell had destinedthe charms of her younger daughter. Conduct baser than that of Mrs.Jones on this occasion is not perhaps recorded in history. She was nofriend of Brisket's. She had it not at heart to forward her mother'sviews. At this period of their lives she and her mother never met.But she had learned her sister's secret, and having it in herpower to crush her sister's happiness, had availed herself of theopportunity.

  "There he is," said she, quite aloud, so that the whole room shouldhear. "He's a bill-sticker!" and she pointed the finger of scorn ather sister's lover.

  "I'm one who have always earned my own living," said Robinson, "andnever had occasion to hang on to any one." This he said knowing thatJones's lodgings were paid for by Mr. Brown.

  Hereupon Mr. Brisket walked across the room, and as he walked therewas a cloud of anger on his brow. "Perhaps, young man," he said,--andas he spoke he touched Robinson on the shoulder,--"perhaps, youngman, you wouldn't mind having a few words with me outside the door."

  "Sir," said the other with some solemnity, "I am not aware that Ihave the honour of your acquaintance."

  "I'm William Brisket, butcher," said he; "and if you don't come outwhen I asks you, by jingo, I'll carry you."

  The lady had fainted. The crowd of dancers was standing round, withinquiring faces. That female spectre repeated the odious words, stillpointing at him with her finger, "He's a bill-sticker!" Brisket wasfull fourteen stone, whereas Robinson might perhaps be ten. What wasRobinson to do? "Are you going to walk out, or am I going to carryyou?" said the Hercules of the slaughter-house.

  "I will do anything," said Robinson, "to relieve a lady'sembarrassment."

  They walked out on to the landing-place, whither not a few of thegentlemen and some of the ladies followed them.

  "I say, young man," said Brisket, "do you know who that young womanis?"

  "I certainly have the honour of her acquaintance," said Robinson.

  "But perhaps you haven't the honour of knowing that she's mywife,--as is to be. Now you know it." And then the coarse monstereyed him from head to foot. "Now you may go home to your mother,"said he. "But don't tell her anything of it, because it's a secret."

  He was fifteen stone at least, and Robinson was hardly ten. Oh, howvile is the mastery which matter still has over mind in many of theconcerns of life! How can a man withstand the assault of a bull? Whatwas Robinson to do? He walked downstairs into the street, leavingMaryanne behind with the butcher.

  Some days after this he contrived
a meeting with his love, and hethen learned the history of that engagement. "She hated Brisket,"she said. "He was odious to her. He was always greasy and smelt ofmeat;--but he had a respectable business."

  "And is my Maryanne mercenary?" asked Robinson.

  "Now, George," said she, "it's no use you scolding me, and I won't bescolded. Ma says that I must be civil to him, and I'm not going toquarrel with ma. At any rate not yet."

  "But surely, Maryanne--"

  "It's no good you surelying me, George, for I won't be surelyed. Ifyou don't like me you can leave me."

  "Maryanne, I adore you."

  "That's all very well, and I hope you do; but why did you make a rowwith that man the other night?"

  "But, dearest love, he made the row with me."

  "And when you did make it," continued Maryanne, "why didn't you seeit out?" Robinson did not find it easy to answer this accusation.That matter has still dominion over mind, though the days are comingwhen mind shall have dominion over matter, was a lesson which, inafter days, it would be sweet to teach her. But at the present momentthe time did not serve for such teaching. "A man must look after hisown, George, or else he'll go to the wall," she said, with a sneer.And then he parted from her in anger.

  But his love did not on that account wax cool, and so in his miseryhe had recourse to their mutual friend, Miss Twizzle. "The truth isthis," said Miss Twizzle, "I believe she'd take him, because he'srespectable and got a business."

  "He's horribly vulgar," said Robinson.

  "Oh, bother!" said Miss Twizzle. "I know nothing about that. He's gota business, and whoever marries Brisket won't have to look for a bedto sleep on. But there's a hitch about the money."

  Then Mr. Robinson learned the facts. Mrs. McCockerell, as she wasstill called, had promised to give her daughter five hundred poundsas her marriage portion, but Mr. Brisket would not go to the altartill he got the money. "He wanted to extend himself," he said, "andwould not marry till he saw his way." Hence had arisen that delaywhich Maryanne had solaced by her attendance at the music-hall.

  "But if you're in earnest," said Miss Twizzle, "don't you be down onyour luck. Go to old Brown, and make friends with him. He'll stand upfor you, because he knows his wife favours Brisket."

  George Robinson did go to Mr. Brown, and on the father the youngman's eloquence was not thrown away. "She shall be yours, Mr.Robinson," he said, after the first fortnight. "But we must be verycareful with Mrs. B."

  After the second fortnight Mrs. B. was no more! And in this way itcame to pass that George Robinson was present as Mr. Brown's adviserwhen that scheme respecting the haberdashery was first set on foot.