"NEVER GIVE A THING UP."
Mr. Neefit's conduct during this period of disappointment was not
exactly what it should to have been, either in the bosom of his
family or among his dependents in Conduit Street. Herr Bawwah, over
a pot of beer in the public-house opposite, suggested to Mr. Waddle
that "the governor might be ----," in a manner that affected Mr.
Waddle greatly. It was an eloquent and energetic expression of
opinion,--almost an expression of a settled purpose as coming from
the German as it did come; and Waddle was bound to admit that cause
had been given. "Fritz," said Waddle pathetically, "don't think about
it. You can't better the wages." Herr Bawwah looked up from his pot
of beer and muttered a German oath. He had been told that he was
beastly, skulking, pig-headed, obstinate, drunken, with some other
perhaps stronger epithets which may be omitted,--and he had been told
that he was a German. In that had lain the venom. There was the word
that rankled. He had another pot of beer, and though it was then only
twelve o'clock on a Monday morning Herr Bawwah swore that he was
going to make a day of it, and that old Neefit might cut out the
stuff for himself if he pleased. As they were now at the end of
March, which is not a busy time of the year in Mr. Neefit's trade,
the great artist's defalcation was of less immediate importance;
but, as Waddle knew, the German was given both to beer and obstinacy
when aroused to wrath; and what would become of the firm should the
obstinacy continue?
"Where's that pig-headed German brute?" asked Mr. Neefit, when Mr.
Waddle returned to the establishment. Mr. Waddle made no reply; and
when Neefit repeated the question with a free use of the epithets
previously omitted by us, Waddle still was dumb, leaning over his
ledger as though in that there were matters so great as to absorb his
powers of hearing. "The two of you may go and be ---- together!" said
Mr. Neefit. If any order requiring immediate obedience were contained
in this, Mr. Waddle disobeyed that order. He still bent himself over
the ledger, and was dumb. Waddle had been trusted with his master's
private view in the matter of the Newton marriage, and felt that on
this account he owed a debt of forbearance to the unhappy father.
The breeches-maker was in truth very unhappy. He had accused his
German assistant of obstinacy, but the German could hardly have been
more obstinate than his master. Mr. Neefit had set his heart upon
making his daughter Mrs. Newton, and had persisted in declaring that
the marriage should be made to take place. The young man had once
given him a promise, and should be compelled to keep the promise
so given. And in these days Mr. Neefit seemed to have lost that
discretion for which his friends had once given him credit. On the
occasion of his visit to the Moonbeam early in the hunting season he
had spoken out very freely among the sportsmen there assembled; and
from that time all reticence respecting his daughter seemed to have
been abandoned. He had paid the debts of this young man, who was now
lord of wide domains, when the young man hadn't "a red copper in his
pocket,"--so did Mr. Neefit explain the matter to his friends,--and
he didn't intend that the young man should be off his bargain.
"No;--he wasn't going to put up with that;--not if he knew it." All
this he declared freely to his general acquaintance. He was very
eloquent on the subject in a personal interview which he had with Mr.
Moggs senior, in consequence of a visit made to Hendon by Mr. Moggs
junior, during which he feared that Polly had shown some tendency
towards yielding to the young politician. Mr. Moggs senior might take
this for granted;--that if Moggs junior made himself master of Polly,
it would be of Polly pure and simple, of Polly without a shilling of
dowry. "He'll have to take her in her smock." That was the phrase in
which Mr. Neefit was pleased to express his resolution. To all of
which Mr. Moggs senior answered never a word. It was on returning
from Mr. Moggs's establishment in Bond Street to his own in Conduit
Street that Mr. Neefit made himself so very unpleasant to the
unfortunate German. When Ontario put on his best clothes, and took
himself out to Hendon on the previous Sunday, he did not probably
calculate that, as one consequence of that visit, the Herr Bawwah
would pass a whole week of intoxication in the little back parlour of
the public-house near St. George's Church.
It may be imagined how very unpleasant all this must have been to
Miss Neefit herself. Poor Polly indeed suffered many things; but she
bore them with an admirable and a persistent courage. Indeed, she
possessed a courage which greatly mitigated her sufferings. Let her
father be as indiscreet as he might, he could not greatly lower her,
as long as she herself was prudent. It was thus that Polly argued
with herself. She knew her own value, and was not afraid that she
should ever lack a lover when she wanted to find a husband. Of course
it was not a nice thing to be thrown at a man's head, as her father
was constantly throwing her at the head of young Newton; but such a
man as she would give herself to at last would understand all that.
Ontario Moggs, could she ever bring herself to accept Ontario, would
not be less devoted to her because of her father's ill-arranged
ambition. Polly could be obstinate too, but with her obstinacy there
was combined a fund of feminine strength which, as we think, quite
justified the devotion of Ontario Moggs.
Amidst all these troubles Mrs. Neefit also had a bad time of it; so
bad a time that she was extremely anxious that Ontario should at once
carry off the prize;--Ontario, or the gasfitter, or almost anybody.
Neefit was taking to drink in the midst of all this confusion, and
was making himself uncommonly unpleasant in the bosom of his family.
On the Sunday,--the Sunday before the Monday on which the Herr
decided that his wisest course of action would be to abstain from
work and make a beast of himself, in order that he might spite his
master,--Mr. Neefit had dined at one o'clock, and had insisted on his
gin-and-water and pipe immediately after his dinner. Now Mr. Neefit,
when he took too much, did not fall into the extreme sins which
disgraced his foreman. He simply became very cross till he fell
asleep, very heavy while sleeping, and more cross than ever when
again awake. While he was asleep on this Sunday afternoon Ontario
Moggs came down to Hendon dressed in his Sunday best. Mrs. Neefit
whispered a word to him before he was left alone with Polly. "You be
round with her, and run your chance about the money." "Mrs. Neefit,"
said Ontario, laying his hand upon his heart, "all the bullion in the
Bank of England don't make a feather's weight in the balance." "You
never was mercenary, Mr. Ontario," said the lady. "My sweetheart is
to me more than a coined hemisphere," said Ontario. The expression
may have been absurd, but the feeling was there.
Polly was not at all coy of her presence,--was not so, though she
had been specially ordered by her father not to have anything to
say to that long-legged, ugly fool. "Handsome is as handsome does,"
Polly had answered. Whereupon Mr. Neefit had shown his teeth and
growled;--but Polly, though she loved her father, and after a fashion
respected him, was not afraid of him; and now, when her mother left
her alone with Ontario, she was free enough of her conversation. "Oh,
Polly," he said, after a while, "you know why I'm here."
"Yes; I know," said Polly.
"I don't think you do care for that young gentleman."
"I'm not going to break my heart about him, Mr. Moggs."
"I'd try to be the death of him, if you did."
"That would be a right down tragedy, because then you'd be hung,--and
so there'd be an end of us all. I don't think I'd do that, Mr.
Moggs."
"Polly, I sometimes feel as though I didn't know what to do."
"Tell me the whole story of how you went on down at Percycross. I was
so anxious you should get in."
"Were you now?"
"Right down sick at heart about it;--that I was. Don't you think we
should all be proud to know a member of Parliament?"
"Oh; if that's all--"
"I shouldn't think anything of Mr. Newton for being in Parliament.
Whether he was in Parliament or out would be all the same. Of course
he's a friend, and we like him very well; but his being in Parliament
would be nothing. But if you were there--!"
"I don't know what's the difference," said Moggs despondently.
"Because you're one of us."
"Yes; I am," said Moggs, rising to his legs and preparing himself
for an oration on the rights of labour. "I thank my God that I am no
aristocrat." Then there came upon him a feeling that this was not a
time convenient for political fervour. "But, I'll tell you something,
Polly," he said, interrupting himself.
"Well;--tell me something, Mr. Moggs."
"I'd sooner have a kiss from you than be Prime Minister."
"Kisses mean so much, Mr. Moggs," said Polly.
"I mean them to mean much," said Ontario Moggs. Whereupon Polly,
declining further converse on that delicate subject, and certainly
not intending to grant the request made on the occasion, changed the
subject.
"But you will get in still;--won't you, Mr. Moggs? They tell me that
those other gentlemen ain't to be members any longer, because what
they did was unfair. Oughtn't that to make you member?"
"I think it ought, if the law was right;--but it doesn't."
"Doesn't it now? But you'll try again;--won't you? Never give a thing
up, Mr. Moggs, if you want it really." As the words left her lips she
understood their meaning,--the meaning in which he must necessarily
take them,--and she blushed up to her forehead. Then she laughed as
she strove to recall the encouragement she had given him. "You know
what I mean, Mr. Moggs. I don't mean any silly nonsense about being
in love."
"If that is silly, I am the silliest man in London."
"I think you are sometimes;--so I tell you fairly."
In the meantime Mr. Neefit had woke from his slumbers. He was in his
old arm-chair in the little back room, where they had dined, while
Polly with her lover was in the front parlour. Mrs. Neefit was seated
opposite to Mr. Neefit, with an open Bible in her lap, which had been
as potent for sleep with her as had been the gin-and-water with her
husband. Neefit suddenly jumped up and growled. "Where's Polly?" he
demanded.
"She's in the parlour, I suppose," said Mrs. Neefit doubtingly.
"And who is with her?"
"Nobody as hadn't ought to be," said Mrs. Neefit.
"Who's there, I say?" But without waiting for an answer, he stalked
into the front room. "It's no use in life your coming here," he said,
addressing himself at once to Ontario; "not the least. She ain't
for you. She's for somebody else. Why can't one word be as good as
a thousand?" Moggs stood silent, looking sheepish and confounded.
It was not that he was afraid of the father; but that he feared to
offend the daughter should he address the father roughly. "If she
goes against me she'll have to walk out of the house with just what
she's got on her back."
"I should be quite contented," said Ontario.
"But I shouldn't;--so you may just cut it. Anybody who wants her
without my leave must take her in her smock."
"Oh, father!" screamed Polly.
"That's what I mean,--so let's have done with it. What business have
you coming to another man's house when you're not welcome? When I
want you I'll send for you; and till I do you have my leave to stay
away."
"Good-bye, Polly," said Ontario, offering the girl his hand.
"Good-bye, Mr. Moggs," said Polly; "and mind you get into Parliament.
You stick to it, and you'll do it."
When she repeated this salutary advice, it must have been that she
intended to apply to the double event. Moggs at any rate took it in
that light. "I shall," said he, as he opened the door and walked
triumphantly out of the house.
"Father," said Polly, as soon as they were alone, "you've behaved
very bad to that young man."
"You be blowed," said Mr. Neefit.
"You have, then. You'll go on till you get me that talked about that
I shall be ashamed to show myself. What's the good of me trying to
behave, if you keep going on like that?"
"Why didn't you take that chap when he came after you down to
Margate?"
"Because I didn't choose. I don't care enough for him; and it's all
no use of you going on. I wouldn't have him if he came twenty times.
I've made up my mind, so I tell you."
"You're a very grand young woman."
"I'm grand enough to have a will of my own about that. I'm not going
to be made to marry any man, I know."
"And you mean to take that long-legged shoemaker's apprentice."
"He's not a shoemaker's apprentice any more than I'm a
breeches-maker's apprentice." Polly was now quite in earnest, and in
no mood for picking her words. "He is a bootmaker by his trade; and
I've never said anything about taking him."
"You've given him a promise."
"No; I've not."
"And you'd better not, unless you want to walk out of this house with
nothing but the rags on your back. Ain't I doing it all for you?
Ain't I been sweating my life out these thirty years to make you a
lady?" This was hard upon Polly, as she was not yet one-and-twenty.
"I don't want to be a lady; no more than I am just by myself, like.
If I can't be a lady without being made one, I won't be a lady at
all."
"You be blowed."
"There are different kinds of ladies, father. I want to be such a
one as neither you nor mother shall ever have cause to say I didn't
behave myself."
"You'd talk the figures off a milestone," said Mr. Neefit, as he
returned to his arm-chair, to his gin-and-water, to his growlings,
and before long to his slumbers. Throughout the whole evening he was
very unpleasant in the bosom of his family,--which consisted on this
occasion of his wife only, as Polly took the opportunity of going out
to drink tea with a young lady friend. Neefit, when he heard this,
suggested that Ontario was drinking tea at the same house, and would
have pursued his daughter but for mingled protestations and menaces
which his wife used for preventing such a violation of parental
authority. "Moggs don't know from Adam where she is; and you never
knowed her do anything of that kind. And you'll go about with your
mad schemes and jealousies till you about ruin the poor girl; that's
what you will. I won't have it. If you go, I'll go too, and I'll
shame you. No; you shan't have your hat. Of course she'll be off some
day, if you make the place that wretched that she can't live in it. I
know I would,--with the fust man as'd ask me." By these objurgations,
by a pertinacious refusal as to his hat, and a little yielding in the
matter of gin-and-water, Mr. Neefit was at length persuaded to remain
at home.
On the following morning he said nothing before he left home, but as
soon as he had opened his letters and spoken a few sharp things to
the two men in Conduit Street, he went off to Mr. Moggs senior. Of
the interview between Mr. Neefit and Mr. Moggs senior sufficient has
already been told. Then it was, after his return to his own shop,
that he so behaved as to drive the German artist into downright
mutiny and unlimited beer. Through the whole afternoon he snarled at
Waddle; but Waddle sat silent, bending over the ledger. One question
Waddle did answer.
"Where's that pig-headed German gone?" asked Mr. Neefit for the tenth
time.
"I believe he's cutting his throat about this time," said Mr. Waddle.
"He may wait till I come and sew it up," said the breeches-maker.
All this time Mr. Neefit was very unhappy. He knew, as well as did
Mr. Waddle or Polly, that he was misbehaving himself. He was by no
means deficient in ideas of duty to his wife, to his daughter, and to
his dependents. Polly was the apple of his eye; his one jewel;--in
his estimation the best girl that ever lived. He admired her in all
her moods, even though she would sometimes oppose his wishes with
invincible obstinacy. He knew in his heart that were she to marry
Ontario Moggs he would forgive her on the day of her marriage. He
could not keep himself from forgiving her though she were to marry a
chimney-sweep. But, as he thought, a great wrong was being done him.
He could not bring himself to believe that Polly would not marry
the young Squire, if the young Squire would only be true to his
undertaking; and then he could not endure that the young Squire
should escape from him, after having been, as it were, saved from
ruin by his money, without paying for the accommodation in some
shape. He had some inkling of an idea that in punishing Ralph by
making public the whole transaction, he would be injuring his
daughter as much as he injured Ralph. But the inkling did not
sufficiently establish itself in his mind to cause him to desist.
Ralph Newton ought to be made to repeat his offer before all the
world; even though he should only repeat it to be again refused. The
whole of that evening he sat brooding over it, so that he might come
to some great resolution.