"Just this once more. Mind, you tap very gently, and I'll be awake. But do be careful. It frightens me so!" When the house was full of lodgers the Bryants stowed themselves away in any odd corners. At this time Lydia occupied a large cupboard--by courtesy called a small room--close to their stuffy little back parlor. Lisle would go to the yard behind the house, which was common to two or three besides No. 13, and with one foot on a projecting bit of brick-work could get his hand on the sill and make his signal. "Some day the police'll take you for a burglar," said Lydia encouragingly. "Well, go and enjoy yourself." "It _is_ a shame to keep you up so long, isn't it? What do you do all the time, eh, Lydia?" "Sit in the dark, mostly, and think what a fool I'm making of myself." "Don't do that. Think how good you are to a poor fellow in trouble. That will be better--won't it? But I must be off. Good-bye, you kind Lydia." He stooped forward and kissed her, taking her hands in his. He found it convenient to pay his debt in this coin, his creditor being passably pretty. Not that Bertie had any taste for indiscriminate kissing. Had he had five thousand a year, and had Lydia rendered him a service, he would have recompensed her with some of his superfluous gold. But as he only had his salary as organist and what he could make by giving music-lessons, he paid her with kisses instead. He had no particular objection, and was it not his duty to be economical, for Judith's sake as well as his own?