ht. Besides, it's
a woman's business;--and you have no woman to manage it," added he,
fearing that Mrs. Jones might be brought in, to the detriment of all
concerned.

Jones suggested haberdashery; Robinson, guided by a strong idea
that there is a more absolute opening for the advertising line in
haberdashery than in any other business, assented.

"Then let it be haberdashery," said Mr. Brown, with a sigh. And so
that was settled.

CHAPTER III.

THE EARLY HISTORY OF MR. ROBINSON.

And haberdashery it was. But here it may be as well to say a few
words as to Mr. Robinson, and to explain how he became a member of
the firm. He had been in his boyhood,--a bill-sticker; and he defies
the commercial world to show that he ever denied it. In his earlier
days he carried the paste and pole, and earned a livelihood by
putting up notices of theatrical announcements on the hoardings of
the metropolis. There was, however, that within him which Nature
did not intend to throw away on the sticking of bills, as was found
out quickly enough by those who employed him. The lad, while he was
running the streets with his pole in his hand, and his pot round his
neck, learned first to read, and then to write what others might
read. From studying the bills which he carried, he soon took to
original composition; and it may be said of him, that in fluency of
language and richness of imagery few surpassed him. In person Mr.
Robinson was a genteel young man, though it cannot be said of him
that he possessed manly beauty. He was slight and active, intelligent
in his physiognomy, and polite in his demeanour. Perhaps it may be
unnecessary to say anything further on this head.

Mr. Robinson had already established himself as an author in his
own line, and was supporting himself decently by his own unaided
abilities, when he first met Maryanne Brown in the Regent's Park.
She was then walking with her sister, and resolutely persisted in
disregarding all those tokens of admiration which he found himself
unable to restrain.

There certainly was a dash about Maryanne Brown that at certain
moments was invincible. Hooped petticoats on the back of her sister
looked like hoops, and awkward hoops. They were angular, lopsided,
and lumpy. But Maryanne wore her hoops as a duchess wears her
crinoline. Her well-starched muslin dress would swell off from her
waist in a manner that was irresistible to George Robinson. "Such
grouping!" as he said to his