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<h3>CHAPTER XX.</h3>
<h4>SHOWING HOW MR. BRISKET DIDN'T SEE HIS WAY.<br/> </h4>
<p>Then two months passed by, and the summer was over. Early in
September Mr. Brown had been taken ill, and he went to Margate for a
fortnight with his unmarried daughter. This had been the means of
keeping Brisket quiet for a while with reference to that sum of money
which he was to receive, and had given a reason why the marriage with
him should not be performed at once. On Mr. Brown's return, the
matter was discussed, and Brisket became impatient. But the middle of
October had come before any steps were taken to which it will be
necessary to allude in the annals of the firm.</p>
<p>At that time Brisket, on two successive days, was closeted with his
proposed father-in-law, and it was evident to Robinson that after
each of these interviews Mr. Brown was left in an unhappy frame of
mind. At this time the affairs of the shop were not absolutely
ruinous,—or would not have been so had there been a proper watch
kept on the cash taken over the counter. The heaviest amounts due
were to the stationer, printer, and advertising agents. This was
wrong, for such people of course press for their money; and whatever
hitch or stoppage there may be in trade, there should, at any rate,
be no hitch or stoppage in the capability for advertising. For the
goods disposed of by the house payments had been made, if not with
absolute punctuality on every side, at any rate so fairly that some
supply was always forthcoming. The account at the bank had always
been low; and, though a few small bills had been discounted, nothing
like a mercantile system of credit had been established. All this was
wrong, and had already betrayed the fact that Brown, Jones, and
Robinson were little people, trading in a little way. It is useless
to conceal the fact now, and these memoirs would fail to render to
commerce that service which is expected from them, were the truth on
this matter kept back from the public. Brown, Jones, and Robinson had
not soared upwards into the empyrean vault of commercial greatness on
eagle's wings. There are bodies so ponderous in their nature, that
for them no eagle's wings can be found. The firm had commenced their
pecuniary transactions on a footing altogether weak and
unsubstantial. They had shown their own timidity, and had confessed,
by the nature of their fiscal transactions, that they knew themselves
to be small. To their advertising agents they should never have been
behindhand in their payments for one day; but they should have been
bold in demanding credit from their bank, and should have given their
orders to the wholesale houses without any of that hesitation or
reserve which so clearly indicates feebleness of purpose.</p>
<p>But in spite of this acknowledged weakness, a brisk trade over the
counter had been produced; and though the firm had never owned a
large stock, an unremitting sale was maintained of small goods, such
as ribbons, stockings, handkerchiefs, and cotton gloves. The
Katakarion shirts also had been successful, and now there was a hope
that, during the coming winter, something might be done in African
monkey muffs. At that time, therefore, the bill of the house at three
months, though not to be regarded as a bank-note, was not absolutely
waste paper. How far Brisket's eyes were open on this matter cannot
now be said; but he still expressed himself willing to take one
hundred pounds in cash, and the remainder of Maryanne's fortune in
the bill of the firm at three months.</p>
<p>And then Mr. Brisket made a third visit to Bishopsgate Street. On all
these occasions he passed by the door of the little room in which
Robinson sat, and well did his late rival know his ponderous step.
His late rival;—for Brisket was now welcome to come and go. "Mr.
Brown!" said he, on one occasion, "I have come here to have a
settlement about this thing at once."</p>
<p>"I've been ill, Brisket; very ill, you know," said Mr. Brown,
pleadingly, "and I'm not strong now."</p>
<p>"But that can't make no difference about the money. Maryanne is
willing, and me also. When Christmas is coming on, it's a busy time
in our trade, and I can't be minding that sort of thing then. If
you've got the cash ready, and that bit of paper, we'll have it off
next week."</p>
<p>"I've never spoken to him about the paper;" and Mr. Brown, as he
uttered these words, pointed down towards the room in which Robinson
was sitting.</p>
<p>"Then you'd better," said Brisket. "For I shan't come here again
after to-day. I'll see it out now one way or the other, and so I've
told Maryanne."</p>
<p>Mr. Brown's sigh, when he heard these words, was prolonged and deep.
"You heard what he said that night," continued Brisket. "You ask him.
He's game for anything of that sort."</p>
<p>All these words Robinson had overheard, for the doors of the two
rooms were close together, and neither of them had been absolutely
closed. Now was the moment in which it behoved him to act. No false
delicacy as to the nature of the conversation between his partner and
that partner's proposed son-in-law withheld him; but rising from his
seat, he walked straight into the upper room.</p>
<p>"Here he is, by jingo," said Brisket. "Talk of
<span class="nowrap">the—"</span></p>
<p>"Speak of an angel and behold his wings," said Robinson, with a faint
smile. "I come on a visit which might befit an angel. Mr. Brown, I
consent that your daughter's dowry shall be paid from the funds of
the firm."</p>
<p>But Mr. Brown, instead of expressing his thankful gratitude, as was
expected, winked at his partner. The dull Brisket did not perceive
it; but Robinson at once knew that this act of munificence on his
part was not at the moment pleasing to the lady's father.</p>
<p>"You're a trump," said Brisket; "and when we're settled at home like,
Maryanne and I that is, I hope you'll let bygones be bygones, and
come and take pot luck with us sometimes. If there's a tender bit of
steak about the place it shall be sent to the kitchen fire when you
show your face."</p>
<p>"Brisket," said Robinson, "there's my hand. I've loved her. I don't
deny it. But you're welcome to her. No woman shall ever sit at the
hearth of George Robinson;—but at her hearth George Robinson will
never sit."</p>
<p>"You shall be as welcome as if you did," said Brisket; "and a man
can't say no fairer."</p>
<p>But in the meantime Mr. Brown still continued to wink, and Robinson
understood that his consent to that bill transaction was not in truth
desired. "Perhaps, Mr. Brisket," said he, "as this is a matter of
business, I and my partner had better discuss it for a moment
together. We can go down into my room, Mr. Brown."</p>
<p>"With all my heart," said Brisket. "But remember this, both of you:
if I don't see my way before I leave the house, I don't come here any
more. I know my way pretty well from Aldersgate Street, and I'm sick
of the road. I've been true to my word all along, and I'll be true to
the end. But if I don't see my way before I leave this house,
remember I'm off."</p>
<p>"You shouldn't have said that," whispered Brown to his partner as
soon as the two were together.</p>
<p>"Why not?"</p>
<p>"The money won't be there at the end of three months, not if we pay
them other things. And where's the hundred pounds of ready to come
from?"</p>
<p>"That's your look-out."</p>
<p>"I haven't got it, George. Jones has it, I know; but I can't get it
out of him."</p>
<p>"Jones got a hundred pounds! And where should Jones have gotten it?"</p>
<p>"I know we have been wrong, George; I know we have. But you can't
wonder at me, George; can you? I did bring four thousand pounds into
it; didn't I?"</p>
<p>"And now you haven't got a hundred pounds!"</p>
<p>"If I have it's as much as I can say. But Jones has it, and ever so
much more. If Brisket will wait, we can frighten it out of Jones."</p>
<p>"If I know anything of human nature," said Robinson, "Brisket will
not wait."</p>
<p>"He would, if you hadn't spoke to him that way. He'd say he wouldn't,
and go away, and Maryanne would blow up; but I should have worked the
money out of Jones at last, and then Brisket would have waited."</p>
<p>When Mr. Brown had made this disclosure, whispering all the time as
he leaned his head and shoulder on Robinson's upright desk, they both
remained silent for a while. "We have been wrong," he had said; "I
know we have." And Robinson, as he heard the words, perceived that
from the beginning to the end he had been a victim. No wonder that
the business should not have answered, when such confessions as these
were wrung from the senior partner! But the fact alleged by Mr. Brown
in his own excuse was allowed its due weight by Robinson, even at
that moment. Mr. Brown had possessed money,—money which might have
made his old age comfortable and respectable in obscurity. It was not
surprising that he should be anxious to keep in his own hand some
small remnant of his own property. But as for Jones! What excuse
could be made for Jones! Jones had been a thief; and worse than
ordinary thieves, for his thefts were committed on his own friends.</p>
<p>"And he has got the money," said Robinson.</p>
<p>"Oh, yes!" said Mr. Brown, "there's no doubt in life about that."</p>
<p>"Then, by the heaven above us, he shall refund it to the firm from
which he has stolen it," shouted Robinson, striking the desk with his
fist as he did so.</p>
<p>"Whish, George, whish; Brisket will hear you."</p>
<p>"Who cares? I have been robbed on every side till I care for nothing!
What is Brisket to me, or what is your daughter? What is anything?"</p>
<p>"But, George—"</p>
<p>"Is there no honesty left in the world, Mr. Brown? That there is no
love I had already learned. Ah me, what an age is this in which we
live! Deceit, deceit, deceit;—it is all deceit!"</p>
<p>"The heart of a man is very deceitful," said Mr. Brown. "And a
woman's especially."</p>
<p>"Delilah would have been a true wife now-a-days. But never mind. That
man is still there, and he must be answered. I have no hundred pounds
to give him."</p>
<p>"No, George; no; we're sure of that."</p>
<p>"When this business is broken up, as broken up it soon will
<span class="nowrap">be—"</span></p>
<p>"Oh, George, don't say so."</p>
<p>"Ay, but it will. Then I shall walk out from Magenta House with empty
pockets and with clean hands."</p>
<p>"But think of me, George. I had four thousand pounds when we began.
Hadn't I, now?"</p>
<p>"I do think of you, and I forgive you. Now go up to Brisket, for he
will want his answer. I can assist you no further. My name is still
left to me, and of that you may avail yourself. But as for money,
George Robinson has none."</p>
<p>About half an hour after that, Mr. Brisket again descended the stairs
with his usual ponderous and slow step, and went forth into the
street, shaking the dust from his feet as he did so. He was sore
offended, and vowed in his heart that he would never enter that house
again. He had pressed Mr. Brown home about the money; and that
gentleman had suggested to him, first, that it should be given to him
on the day after the marriage, and then that it should be included in
the bill. "You offered to take it all in one bill before, you know,"
said Mr. Brown. Hereupon Brisket began to think that he did not see
his way at all, and finally left the house in great anger.</p>
<p>He went direct from thence to Mrs. Poppins' lodgings, where he knew
that he would find Miss Brown. Poppins himself was, of course, at his
work, and the two ladies were together.</p>
<p>"I've come to wish you good-by," he said, as he walked into the room.</p>
<p>"Laws, Mr. Brisket!" exclaimed Mrs. Poppins.</p>
<p>"It's all up about this marriage, and so I thought it right to come
and tell you. I began straightforward, and I mean to end
straightforward."</p>
<p>"You mean to say you're not going to have her," said Mrs. Poppins.</p>
<p>"Polly, don't make a fool of yourself," said Maryanne. "Do you think
I want the man. Let him go." And then he did go, and Miss Brown was
left without a suitor.</p>
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