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Brown, waving high above his head a huge magenta cotton handkerchief, and that on his other arm was hanging Maryanne Brown, leaning quite as closely upon him as her sister did upon the support which was her own. For one moment George Robinson allowed himself to look down upon the scene, and he plainly saw that clutch of the hand upon the sleeve.
And as for that old man's bit of paper " Then he relapsed once again into silence. It was within an hour of all this that Maryanne had followed her father to George Robinson's room. She had declared her utter indifference as to Johnson of Manchester; but yet it might, perhaps, be as well that she should learn the truth.
Jones and his wife were there, and so also, of course, was Maryanne. Her he had seen at the moment of his entry, sitting by with well-pleased face, while her huge lover put butter and ale into the frying-pan. "Why, Sarah Jane," she said, "I declare he's quite a man cook. How useful he would be about a house!" "Oh, uncommon," said Sarah Jane. "And you mean to try before long, don't you, Mr.
Mother promised him money; and then I said I'd marry him, not because I cared for him, but because he was respectable and all right. And then mother hadn't the money when the pinch came, and, of course, Brisket wasn't going to be put upon; why should he? So I took up with Robinson, and you knew it, father." "I did, Maryanne; I did." "Of course you did.
But for Robinson, there was no one on whose shoulder he could rest his head, and from whose heart and voice he could receive sympathy and encouragement. From one congenial soul, from one soul that he had hoped to find congenial, he did look for solace; but even here he was disappointed. It has been told that Maryanne Brown did at last consent to name the day.
"He wanted to extend himself," he said, "and would not marry till he saw his way." Hence had arisen that delay which Maryanne had solaced by her attendance at the music-hall. "But if you're in earnest," said Miss Twizzle, "don't you be down on your luck. Go to old Brown, and make friends with him. He'll stand up for you, because he knows his wife favours Brisket." George Robinson did go to Mr.
All nature would then be smiling. It would be the merry month of May; and Robinson suggested that, after the toil of the first fortnight of the opening, a day's holiday for matrimonial purposes might well be accorded to him. "We'll go to the bowers of Richmond, Maryanne," said he. "God bless you, my children," said Mr. Brown.
There she sat close to his bed, and there from time to time Robinson would visit her. In those days they always called each other George and Maryanne, and were courteous to each other, speaking solely of the poor old sick man, who was so near to them both. Of their former joint hopes, no word was spoken then; nor, at any rate as regards the lady, was there even a thought of love.
"George, I've brought myself to look upon you quite as a brother-in-law, you know." "Have you?" said he. "Then you have done me an honour that does not belong to me, and never will." "Now don't say that, George. If you'll only bring yourself to show a little more spirit to Maryanne, all will be right yet." What was she that she should talk to him about spirit?
Brown would not consent. Mr. Brown was very feeble, but yet he was very obstinate. It would often seem that he was beaten away from his purpose, and yet he would hang on it with more tenacity than that of a stronger man. "Town is empty in August, George, and then you can be spared for a run to Margate for two or three days." "Oh, we don't want any nonsense," said Maryanne; "do we, George?"
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