CHAPTER XIX.
GEORGE ROBINSON'S MARRIAGE.
Thus ended George Robinson's dream of love. Never again will heattempt that phase of life. Beauty to him in future shall be athing on which the eye may rest with satisfaction, as it may on thesculptor's chiselled marble, or on the varied landscape. It shall bea thing to look at,--possibly to possess. But for the future GeorgeRobinson's heart shall be his own. George Robinson is now wedded, andhe will admit of no second wife. On that same Tuesday which was tohave seen him made the legal master of Maryanne's charms, he vowedto himself that Commerce should be his bride; and, as in the deadof night he stood on the top of the hill of Ludgate, he himself, ashigh-priest, performed the ceremony. "Yes," said he on that occasion,"O goddess, here I devote myself to thy embraces, to thine and thineonly. To live for thee shall satisfy both my heart and my ambition.If thou wilt be kind, no softer loveliness shall be desired by me.George Robinson has never been untrue to his vows, nor shalt thou,O my chosen one, find him so now. For thee will I labour, strainingevery nerve to satisfy thy wishes. Woman shall henceforward be to mea doll for the adornment of whose back it will be my business to sellcostly ornaments. In no other light will I regard the loveliness ofher form. O sweet Commerce, teach me thy lessons! Let me ever buy inthe cheapest market and sell in the dearest. Let me know thy hiddenways, and if it be that I am destined for future greatness, and maychoose the path by which it shall be reached, it is not great wealthat which I chiefly aim. Let it rather be said of me that I taught themodern world of trade the science of advertisement."
Thus did he address his new celestial bride, and as he spoke apassing cloud rolled itself away from before the moon's face, andthe great luminary of the night shone down upon his upturned face."I accept the omen," said Robinson, with lightened heart; and fromthat moment his great hopes never again altogether failed him,though he was doomed to pass through scorching fires of commercialdisappointment.
But it must not be supposed that he was able to throw off his passionfor Maryanne Brown without a great inward struggle. Up to thatmoment, in which he found Brisket in Mr. Brown's room, and, as hestood for a moment on the landing-place, heard that inquiry made asto the use of his name, he had believed that Maryanne would at lastbe true to him. Poppins, indeed, had hinted his suspicions, but inthe way of prophecy Poppins was a Cassandra. Poppins saw a good dealwith those twinkling eyes of his, but Robinson did not trust to thewisdom of Poppins. Up to that hour he had believed in Maryanne, andthen in the short flash of an instant the truth had come upon him.She had again promised herself to Brisket, if Brisket would onlytake her. Let Brisket have her if he would. A minute's thought wassufficient to bring him to this resolve. But hours of scorchingtorment must be endured ere he could again enjoy the calm working ofa sound mind in a sound body.
It has been told how in the ecstasy of his misery he poured out thesorrows of his bleeding heart before his brethren at the debatingclub. They, with that ready sympathy which they always evince forthe success or failure of any celebrated brother, at once adjournedthemselves; and Robinson walked out, followed at a distance by thefaithful Poppins.
"George, old fellow!" said the latter, touching his friend on theshoulder, at the corner of Bridge Street.
"Leave me!" exclaimed Robinson. "Do not pry into sorrows which youcannot understand. I would be alone with myself this night."
"You'd be better if you'd come to the 'Mitre,' and smoke a pipe,"said Poppins.
"Pipe me no pipes," said Robinson.
"Oh, come. You'd better quit that, and take it easy. After all, isn'tit better so, than you should find her out when it was too late?There's many would be glad to have your chance."
"Man!" shouted Robinson, and as he did so he turned round upon hisfriend and seized him by the collar of his coat. "I loved that woman.Forty thousand Poppinses could not, with all their quantity of love,make up my sum."
"Very likely not," said Poppins.
"Would'st thou drink up Esil? Would'st thou eat a crocodile?"
"Heaven forbid," said Poppins.
"I'll do it. And if thou prate of mountains--"
"But I didn't."
"No, Poppins, no. That's true. Though I should be Hamlet, yet art notthou Laertes. But Poppins, thou art Horatio."
"I'm Thomas Poppins, old fellow; and I mean to stick to you till Isee you safe in bed."
"Thou art Horatio, for I've found thee honest. There are more thingsin heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamed of in our philosophy."
"Come, old fellow."
"Poppins, give me that man that is not passion's slave, and I willwear him in my heart's core; ay, in my heart of hearts;--as I dothee." And then, falling on Poppins' neck, George Robinson embracedhim.
"You'll be better after that," said Poppins. "Come, let's have alittle chat over a drop of something hot, and then we'll go to bed.I'll stand Sammy."
"Something hot!" said Robinson. "I tell you, Poppins, that everythingis hot to me. Here, here I'm hot." And then he struck his breast."And yet I'm very cold. 'Tis cold to be alone; cold to have lostone's all. Poppins, I've loved a harpy."
"I believe you're about right there," said Poppins.
"A harpy! Her nails will grow to talons, and on her feet are hoofs.Within she is horn all over. There's not a drop of blood about herheart. Oh, Poppins!"
"You're very well out of it, George. But yet I'm sorry for you. I am,indeed."
"And now, good-night. This way is mine; yours there."
"What! to the bridge? No; I'm blessed if you do; at any rate notalone."
"Poppins, tell me this; was Hamlet mad, or did he feign so?"
"Faith, very likely the latter. Many do that now. There are betterrations in Bedlam, than in any of the gaols;--let alone theworkhouses."
"Ay; go mad for rations! There's no feigning there, Poppins. Theworld is doing that. But, Poppins, Hamlet feigned; and so do I. Letthe wind blow as it may, I know a hawk from a handsaw. Therefore youneed not fear me."
"I don't; but I won't let you go on to that bridge alone. You'll besinging that song of a suicide, till you're as low as low. Come anddrink a drop of something, and wish Brisket joy with his wife."
"I will," said Robinson. And so the two went to the "Mitre;" andthere, comforted by the truth and honesty of his friend, Robinsonresolved that he would be weak no longer, but, returning at onceto his work, would still struggle on to rescue the house of Brown,Jones, and Robinson from that bourne of bankruptcy to which it wasbeing hurried by the incompetency of his partners.
The following day was Sunday, and he rose at twelve with a rackingheadache. He had promised to take a chop with his friend at two, andat that hour he presented himself, with difficulty, at Mrs. Poppins'sroom. She was busy laying the cloth as he entered, but his friendwas seated, half-dressed, unshorn, pale, and drooping, in an oldarm-chair near the window.
"It's a shame for you, George Robinson," said the lady, as heentered, "so it is. Look at that, for a father of a family,--cominghome at three o'clock in the morning, and not able to make his wayupstairs till I went down and fetched him!"
"I told her that we were obliged to sit out the debate," saidPoppins, winking eagerly at his friend.
"Debate, indeed! A parcel of geese as you call yourself! Only geesego to bed betimes, and never get beastly drunk as you was, Poppins."
"I took a bit of stewed cheese, which always disagrees with me."
"Stewed cheese never disagrees with you when I'm with you. I'll tellyou what it is, Poppins; if you ain't at home and in bed by eleveno'clock next Saturday, I'll go down to the 'Goose and Gridiron,' andI'll have that old Grandy out of his chair. That's what I will. Isuppose you're so bad you can't eat a bit of nothing?" In answer towhich, Robinson said that he did not feel himself to be very hungry.
"It's a blessing to Maryanne to have lost you; that's what it is."
"Stop, woman," said Robinson.
"Don't you woman me any womans. I know what stuff you're made off.It's a blessing for
her not to have to do with a man who comes homeroaring drunk, like a dead log, at three o'clock in the morning."
"Now, Polly,--" began poor Poppins.
"Oh, ah, Polly! Yes. Polly's very well. But it was a bad day forPolly when she first sat eyes on you. There was Sergeant MacNashnever took a drop too much in his life. And you're worse thanRobinson ten times. He's got no children at home, and no wife. If hekills hisself with tobacco and gin, nobody will be much the worse.I know one who's got well out of it, anyway. And now, if either ofyou are able to eat, you can come." Robinson did not much enjoy hisafternoon, but the scenes, as they passed, served to reconcile himto that lonely life which must, henceforward, be his fate. What wasthere to enjoy in the fate of Poppins, and what in the proposedhappiness of Brisket? Could not a man be sufficient for himselfalone? Was there aught of pleasantness in that grinding tongue ofhis friend's wife? Should not one's own flesh,--the bone of one'sbone,--bind up one's bruises, pouring in balm with a gentle hand?Poppins was wounded sorely about the head and stomach, and of whatnature was the balm which his wife administered? He, Robinson, hadlonged for married bliss, but now he longed no longer.
On the following Monday and Tuesday he went silently about his work,speaking hardly a word to anybody. Mr. Brown greeted him with anapologetic sigh, and Jones with a triumphant sneer; but he respondedto neither of them. He once met Maryanne in the passage, and bowed toher with a low salute, but he did not speak to her. He did not speakto her, but he saw the colour in her cheek, and watched her downcasteye. He was still weak as water, and had she clung to him even then,he would even then have forgiven her! But she passed on, and, as sheleft the house, she slammed the door behind her.
A little incident happened on that day, which is mentioned to showthat, even in his present frame of mind, Robinson was able to takeadvantage of the smallest incident on behalf of his firm. A slightcrowd had been collected round the door in the afternoon, for therehad been a quarrel between Mr. Jones and one of the young men, inwhich loud words had reached the street, and a baby, which a womanheld in her arms, had been somewhat pressed and hurt. As soon as thetidings reached Robinson's ears he was instantly at his desk, andbefore the trifling accident was two hours passed, the following billwas in the printer's hands;--
CAUTION TO MOTHERS!--MOTHERS, BEWARE!
Three suckling infants were yesterday pressed to death in their mothers' arms by the crowd which had congregated before the house of Brown, Jones, and Robinson, at Nine times Nine, Bishopsgate Street, in their attempts to be among the first purchasers of that wonderful lot of cheap but yet excellent flannels, which B., J., and R. have just imported. Such flannels, at such a price, were never before offered to the British public. The sale, at the figures quoted below, will continue for three days more.
_Magenta House._
And then followed the list.
It had chanced that Mr. Brown had picked up a lot of remnantsfrom a wholesale house in Houndsditch, and the genius of Robinsonimmediately combined that fact with the little accident abovementioned.
The Struggles of Brown, Jones, and Robinson Page 19