If it shall appear to those who read these memoirs¹ that there was much in the conduct of Mr. Brown which deserves censure², let them also remember how much there was in his position which demands pity. In this short narrative³ it has been our purpose to set forth⁴ the commercial doings of the house of Brown, Jones, and Robinson, rather than the domestic life of the partners, and, therefore, it has been impossible to tell of all the trials through which Mr. Brown passed with his children. But those trials were very severe, and if Mr. Brown was on certain points untrue to the young partner who trusted him, allowances for such untruth must be made. He was untrue; but there is one man, who, looking back upon his conduct, knows how to forgive it.

The scenes upstairs at Magenta⁵ House during that first week in August had been very terrible. Mr. Brown, in his anxiety to see his daughter settled, had undoubtedly⁶ pledged himself to abandon the rooms in which he lived, and to take lodgings⁷ elsewhere. To this promised self-sacrifice Maryanne was resolved to keep him bound; and when some hesitation⁸ appeared on his part, she swore to him that nothing should induce her to become Mrs. Robinson till he had packed his things and was gone. Mr. Brown had a heart to feel, and at this moment he could have told how much sharper than a serpent's tooth is a child's ingratitude⁹!

But he would have gone; he would have left the house, although he had begun to comprehend that in leaving it he must probably lose much of his authority over the money taken in the shop; he would, however, have done so, had not Mrs. Jones come down upon him with the whole force of her tongue, and the full violence of her

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