had belonged to Mr. Brown, and he now took upon himself to say that
Maryanne had a right to her share. Jones replied that there was no
longer anything to share, and that Maryanne's future husband must
wait for her fortune till her father could pay it out of his income.
"I couldn't see my way like that; not at all," said Brisket. And then
there had been high words between them.

It was at this time that the first act of Johnson of Manchester's
little comedy was being played, and people in Mr. Brisket's world
were beginning to talk about the matter. "They must be doing a deal
of trade," said one. "Believe me, it is all flash and sham," said
another. "I happen to know that old Brown did go down to Manchester
and see Johnson there," said the first. "There is no such person at
all," said the second. So this went on till Mr. Brisket resolved that
his immediate matrimony should depend on the reality of Johnson's
existence. If it should appear that Johnson, with all his paper, was
a false meteor; that no one had deceived the metropolitan public;
that no one had been taken and had then escaped, he would tell Miss
Brown that he did not see his way. The light of his intelligence told
him that promissory notes from such a source, even though signed by
all the firm, would be illusory. If, on the other hand, Johnson of
Manchester had been taken, then, he thought, he might accept the
bill--and wife.

"Maryanne," he said to the young lady early on that day on which she
had afterwards had her interview with Robinson, "what's all this
about Johnson of Manchester?"

"I know nothing about your Johnsons, nor yet about your Manchester,"
said Miss Brown, standing with her back to her lover. At this time
she was waxing wroth with him, and had learned to hate his voice,
when he would tell her that he had not yet seen his way.

"That's all very well, Maryanne; but I must know something before I
go on."

"Who wants you to go on? Not I, I'm sure; nor anybody belonging to
me. If I do hate anything, it's them mercenary ways. There's one who
really loves me, who'd be above asking for a shilling, if I'd only
put out my hand to him."

"If you say that again, Maryanne, I'll punch his head."

"You're always talking of punching people's heads; but I don't see
you do so much. I shouldn't wonder if you don't want to punch my head
some of these days."

"Maryanne, I never riz a hand to a woman yet."

"And you'd better not, as far as I'm concerned