The Struggles of Brown, Jones, and Robinson

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER XV.

  MISS BROWN NAMES THE DAY.

  George Robinson had been in the very act of coming to anunderstanding with Mr. Brown as to the proceeds of the business, whenhe was interrupted by that terrible affair of Mrs. Morony. For somedays after that the whole establishment was engaged in thinking,talking, and giving evidence about the matter, and it was all thatthe firm could do to keep the retail trade going across the counter.Some of the young men and women gave notice, and went away; andothers became so indifferent that it was necessary to get rid ofthem. For a week it was doubtful whether it would be possible tokeep the house open, and during that week Mr. Brown was so paralyzedby his feelings that he was unable to give any assistance. He satupstairs moaning, accompanied generally by his two daughters; andhe sent a medical certificate to Worship Street, testifying hisinability to appear before the magistrate. From what transpiredafterwards we may say that the magistrate would have treated him moreleniently than did the young women. They were aware that whatevermoney yet remained was in his keeping; and now, as at the time oftheir mother's death, it seemed fitting to them that a divisionshould be made of the spoils.

  "George," he said one evening to his junior partner, "I'd like to belaid decent in Kensal Green! I know it will come to that soon."

  Robinson hereupon reminded him that care had killed a cat; andpromised him all manner of commercial greatness if he could onlyrouse himself to his work. "The career of a merchant prince is stillopen to you," said Robinson, enthusiastically.

  "Not along with Maryanne and Sarah Jane, George!"

  "Sarah Jane is a married woman, and sits at another man's hearth. Whydo you allow her to trouble you?"

  "She is my child, George. A man can't deny himself to his child. Atleast I could not. And I don't want to be a merchant prince. If Icould only have a little place of my own, that was my own; and wherethey wouldn't always be nagging after money when they come to seeme."

  Poor Mr. Brown! He was asking from the fairies that for which we areall asking,--for which men have ever asked. He merely desired thecomforts of the world, without its cares. He wanted his small farm ofa few acres, as Horace wanted it, and Cincinnatus, and thousands ofstatesmen, soldiers, and merchants, from their days down to ours; hissmall farm, on which, however, the sun must always shine, and whereno weeds should flourish. Poor Mr. Brown! Such little farms forthe comforts of old age can only be attained by long and unweariedcultivation during the years of youth and manhood.

  It was on one occasion such as this, not very long after the affairof Mrs. Morony, that Robinson pressed very eagerly upon Mr. Brown thespecial necessity which demanded from the firm at the present momentmore than ordinary efforts in the way of advertisement.

  "Jones has given us a great blow," said Robinson.

  "I fear he has," said Mr. Brown.

  "And now, if we do not put our best foot forward it will be all upwith us. If we flag now, people will see that we are down. But if wego on with audacity, all those reports will die away, and we shallagain trick our beams, and flame once more in the morning sky."

  It may be presumed that Mr. Brown did not exactly follow thequotation, but the eloquence of Robinson had its desired effect. Mr.Brown did at last produce a sum of five hundred pounds, with whichprinters, stationers, and advertising agents were paid or partiallypaid, and Robinson again went to work.

  "It's the last," said Mr. Brown, with a low moan, "and would havebeen Maryanne's!"

  Robinson, when he heard this, was much struck by the old man'senduring courage. How had he been able to preserve this sum from theyoung woman's hands, pressed as he had been by her and by Brisket? Ofthis Robinson said nothing, but he did venture to allude to the factthat the money must, in fact, belong to the firm.

  This is here mentioned chiefly as showing the reason why Robinson didnot for awhile renew the business on which he was engaged when Mrs.Morony's presence in the shop was announced. He felt that no privatematter should be allowed for a time to interfere with his renewedexertions; and he also felt that as Mr. Brown had responded to hisentreaties in that matter of the five hundred pounds, it would notbecome him to attack the old man again immediately. For three monthshe applied himself solely to business; and then, when affairs hadpartially been restored under his guidance, he again resolved, underthe further instigation of Poppins, to put things at once on a properfooting.

  "So you ain't spliced yet," said Poppins.

  "No, not yet."

  "Nor won't be,--not to Maryanne Brown. There was my wife atBrisket's, in Aldersgate Street, yesterday, and we all know what thatmeans."

  "What does it mean?" demanded Robinson, scowling fearfully. "Wouldyou hint to me that she is false?"

  "False! No! she's not false that I know of. She's ready enough tohave you, if you can put yourself right with the old man. But ifyou can't,--why, of course, she's not to wait till her hair's grey.She and Polly are as thick as thieves, and so Polly has been toAldersgate Street. Polly says that the Jones's are getting theirmoney regularly out of the till."

  "Wait till her hair be grey!" said Robinson, when he was left tohimself. "Do I wish her to wait? Would I not stand with her at thealtar to-morrow, though my last half-crown should go to the greedypriest who joined us? And she has sent her friend to AldersgateStreet,--to my rival! There must, at any rate, be an end of this!"

  Late on that evening, when his work was over, he took a glass of hotbrandy-and-water at the "Four Swans," and then he waited upon Mr.Brown. He luckily found the senior partner alone. "Mr. Brown," saidhe, "I've come to have a little private conversation."

  "Private, George! Well, I'm all alone. Maryanne is with Mrs. Poppins,I think."

  With Mrs. Poppins! Yes; and where might she not be with Mrs. Poppins?Robinson felt that he had it within him at that moment to startoff for Aldersgate Street. "But first to business," said he, as heremembered the special object for which he had come.

  "For the present it is well that she should be away," he said. "Mr.Brown, the time has now come at which it is absolutely necessary thatI should know where I am."

  "Where you are, George?"

  "Yes; on what ground I stand. Who I am before the world, and whatinterest I represent. Is it the fact that I am the junior partner inthe house of Brown, Jones, and Robinson?"

  "Why, George, of course you are."

  "And is it the fact that by the deed of partnership drawn up betweenus, I am entitled to receive one quarter of the proceeds of thebusiness?"

  "No, George, no; not proceeds."

  "What then?"

  "Profits, George; one quarter of the profits."

  "And what is my share for the year now over?"

  "You have lived, George; you must always remember that. It is a greatthing in itself even to live out of a trade in these days. You havelived; you must acknowledge that."

  "Mr. Brown, I am not a greedy man, nor a suspicious man, nor an idleman, nor a man of pleasure. But I am a man in love."

  "And she shall be yours, George."

  "Ay, sir, that is easily said. She shall be mine, and in order thatshe may be mine, I must request to know what is accurately the stateof our account?"

  "George," said Mr. Brown in a piteous accent, "you and I have alwaysbeen friends."

  "But there are those who will do much for their enemies out of fear,though they will do nothing for their friends out of love. Jones hasa regular income out of the business."

  "Only forty shillings or so on every Saturday night; nothing more, onmy honour. And then they've babbies, you know, and they must live."

  "By the terms of our partnership I am entitled to as much as he."

  "But then, George, suppose that nobody is entitled to nothing!Suppose there is no profits. We all must live, you know, but thenit's only hand to mouth; is it?"

  How terrible was this statement as to the affairs of the firm,coming, as it did, from the senior partner, who not more than twelvemonths since entered the business with a sum of four thousand poundsin ha
rd cash! Robinson, whose natural spirit in such matters wassanguine and buoyant, felt that even he was depressed. Had fourthousand pounds gone, and was there no profit? He knew well that thestock on hand would not even pay the debts that were due. The shophad always been full, and the men and women at the counter had alwaysbeen busy. The books had nominally been kept by himself; but who cankeep the books of a concern, if he be left in ignorance as to theoutgoings and incomings?

  "That comes of attempting to do business on a basis of capital!" hesaid in a voice of anger.

  "It comes of advertising, George. It comes of little silver books,and big wooden stockings, and men in armour, and cats-carrion shirts;that's what it's come from, George."

  "Never," said Robinson, rising from his chair with energetic action."Never. You may as well tell me that the needle does not point to thepole, that the planets have not their appointed courses, that theswelling river does not run to the sea. There are facts as to whichthe world has ceased to dispute, and this is one of them. Advertise,advertise, advertise! It may be that we have fallen short in ourduty; but the performance of a duty can never do an injury." In replyto this, old Brown merely shook his head. "Do you know what Barlywighas spent on his physic; Barlywig's Medean Potion? Forty thousanda-year for the last ten years, and now Barlywig is worth;--I don'tknow what Barlywig is worth; but I know he is in Parliament."

  "We haven't stuff to go on like that, George." In answer to this,Robinson knew not what to urge, but he did know that his system wasright.

  At this moment the door was opened, and Maryanne Brown entered theroom. "Father," she said, as soon as her foot was over the thresholdof the door; but then seeing that Mr. Brown was not alone, shestopped herself. There was an angry spot on her cheeks, and it wasmanifest from the tone of her voice that she was about to address herfather in anger. "Oh, George; so you are there, are you? I supposeyou came, because you knew I was out."

  "I came, Maryanne," said he, putting out his hand to her, "I came--tosettle our wedding day."

  "My children, my children!" said Mr. Brown.

  "That's all very fine," said Maryanne; "but I've heard so much aboutwedding days, that I'm sick of it, and don't mean to have none."

  "What; you will never be a bride?"

  "No; I won't. What's the use?"

  "You shall be my bride;--to-morrow if you will."

  "I'll tell you what it is, George Robinson; my belief of you is, thatyou are that soft, a man might steal away your toes without your feetmissing 'em."

  "You have stolen away my heart, and my body is all the lighter."

  "It's light enough; there's no doubt of that, and so is your head.Your heels too were, once, but you've given up that."

  "Yes, Maryanne. When a man commences the stern realities of life,that must be abandoned. But now I am anxious to commence a realitywhich is not stern,--that reality which is for me to soften all thehardness of this hardworking world. Maryanne, when shall be ourwedding day?"

  For a while the fair beauty was coy, and would give no decisiveanswer; but at length under the united pressure of her father andlover, a day was named. A day was named, and Mr. Brown's consent tothat day was obtained; but this arrangement was not made till he hadundertaken to give up the rooms in which he at present lived, and togo into lodgings in the neighbourhood.

  "George," said she, in a confidential whisper, before the evening wasover, "if you don't manage about the cash now, and have it all yourown way, you must be soft." Under the influence of gratified love, hepromised her that he would manage it.

  "Bless you, my children, bless you," said Mr. Brown, as they partedfor the night. "Bless you, and may your loves be lasting, and yourchildren obedient."