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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.
Who cares about your way?" "That's all very fine, Maryanne; but I care. I'm a man as is as good as my word, and always was. I defy Brown, Jones, and Robinson to say that I'm off, carrying anybody's paper. And as for paper, it's a thing as I knows nothing about, and never wish. When a man comes to paper, it seems to me there's a very thin wall betwixt him and the gutter.
Robinson and Maryanne Brown together, and very nearly effected a union between them. It was not, however, written in the book that such a marriage should ever be celebrated, and the renewal of love which for a time gave such pleasure to the young lady's father, had no other effect than that of making them in their subsequent quarrels more bitter than ever to each other.
Robinson hereupon reminded him that care had killed a cat; and promised him all manner of commercial greatness if he could only rouse himself to his work. "The career of a merchant prince is still open 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. Why do you allow her to trouble you?"
"Maryanne!" he said, and, in pronouncing 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!
They're all more or less false, no doubt; but I won't have you say so of her. And since you're so ready about the renouncing, suppose you put it on paper 'I renounce my right to the hand and heart of Maryanne Brown. You've got pen and ink there; just put it down." "It shall not need," said Robinson. "Oh, but it does need.
You're not going to let that fellow Brisket run off with Maryanne from before your eyes." "He's at liberty to run anywhere for me." "Now, look here, George. I know you're fond of her." "No. I was once; but I've torn her from my heart." "That's nonsense, George. The fact is, the more she gives herself airs and makes herself scarce and stiff to you, the more precious you think her."
In answer to this, Robinson knew not what to urge, but he did know that his system was right. At this moment the door was opened, and Maryanne Brown entered the room. "Father," she said, as soon as her foot was over the threshold of the door; but then seeing that Mr. Brown was not alone, she stopped herself.
"That's not the way we manage these things now-a-days, is it, Polly?" "I don't know any better way," said Polly, "when Barkis is willing." "Maryanne," said Robinson, "let bygones be bygones." "With all my heart," said she. "All of them, if you like." "No, not quite all, Maryanne. Those moments in which I first declared what I felt for you can never be bygones for me.
"'Dreadfully staring through muddy impurity!" said Robinson. "Impurity enough," continued the other; "and I won't have anything to do with it. Now, I'll tell you what. Will you give me your word, as a man, never to have nothing more to say to Maryanne Brown?" "Never again to speak to her?" "Not, except in the way of respect, when she's Mrs. Brisket." "Never again to clasp her hand in mine?"
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