"Had the landlady of the house in Great Ormond Street been anybody in the world except my old nurse, I doubt if any philanthropic purpose would have inspired me with the boldness to carry through the work I had undertaken. To appear before the average lodging-house keeper within half an hour of midnight, and with such a _protégée_ as Esperanza Campbell upon my hands, would have required the courage of a lion; and I was at that time a particularly shy and sensitive young man, brought up in the retirement of a country house and in the society of a mother whom I loved very dearly, but, as we are told to love God, with fear and trembling. My constitutional shyness, the natural outcome of narrow surroundings, had kept me from making friends at the University, and I believe it was sheer pity that had prompted Gerald Standish to take me under his wing. His kindness was rewarded by finding me a likable companion, whose character supplied some of the qualities which were wanting in his bright and buoyant disposition. We were real friends; and remained friends until the end of his too-brief life. "So much to explain that it was only my confidence in my old nurse's indulgence which enabled me to cut the knot of the difficulty in disposing of Esperanza Campbell. "My faithful Martha and her excellent husband were sleeping the sleep of the just in a ground-floor room at the back of the house, while their maid-servant slumbered still more soundly in a back attic. Happily Martha was a light sleeper, had trained herself to wake at the lightest cry in seasons of measles or whooping-cough, teething or infantile bronchitis; so my second application to the bell and knocker brought a prompt response. Bolts were drawn, a key was turned, a chain was unfastened, the door was opened a couple of inches, and a timid voice asked what was wanted. "'It is I, Martha, George Beresford. I've brought you a lodger.' "'Oh, come now, Mr. George, that's one of your jokes. You've been to the theatre, and you're playing a trick upon me. Go home now, do, like a dear young gentleman, and come and have a cup of tea with me some afternoon when you've got half an hour to spare.' "'Martha, you are keeping a very sweet young lady out in the cold. For goodness' sake, open the door, and let me explain matters.' "'Can't she take her in?' asked Gerald, impatiently, from the cab. "Martha opened the door, and exhibited herself reluctantly in her casual costume of flannel dressing-gown and tartan shawl. "'What _do_ you mean, Mr. George? What can you mean by wanting lodgings for a young lady at this time of night?' "'Sounds queer, don't it?' said Gerald, who had bounded up the steps and burst into the wainscoted hall, lighted only by the candle Martha was carrying. 'The fact is, we're in a difficulty, and Mr. Beresford assures me you can get us out of it.'