"Ellerdale Street, Lewisham," I read aloud. "From Porson Street to Ermine Road. Do those names bring back to you any recollection of the whereabouts of your friends' house?" "No," she reflected, with a perplexed expression. "I've never heard of them." "The street is apparently near Loampit Vale," I said. "That would be the principal thoroughfare. You no doubt came from Lewisham Road Station by the Chatham and Dover Railway to Victoria--or perhaps to Ludgate Hill?" She shook her head. Apparently she had not the slightest idea of the geography of London. Upon this point her mind was an utter blank. "How long have you been in London?" I inquired. "Nearly a week; but I've not been out before. My aunt has been ill," she explained. "Then you live in the country, I suppose?" "Yes, I have lived in Warwickshire, but my home lately has been in France." "In France!" I exclaimed, surprised. "Where?" "At Montgeron, not far from Paris." "And you have come to London on a visit?" "No. I have come to live here," she replied; adding, "It is absurd that the first evening I go out I am so utterly lost. I know my way about Paris quite well." "But Paris is not London," I said. "The suburbs of our metropolis are veritable Saharas, with their miles and miles of streets where the houses are exactly similar, as if the jerry-builders had not two ideas of architecture." It certainly was extraordinary that none of the thoroughfares which I had named gave her any clue to this remote street in which was situated her temporary home. She read down the names of the occupiers of the houses, but could not find her aunt's name. True, there were some omissions, as there always are, and I began to fear that the Directory would not help us. On turning over the page, however, I saw in italics: "_Ellerdale Road. See Hampstead_." "Ah!" I cried, "there is another; but it's Ellerdale Road," and after a few moments' eager search I discovered it. "This road runs from Fitzjohn's Avenue to Arkwright Road in Frognal. Have you ever heard of them before?" It was really remarkable that a young girl should thus be so utterly lost in London. I, a man-about-town, knew the West End as I knew the way around my own chambers; and I thought I knew London; but now, on reflection, saw how utterly ignorant I was of the great world which lies beyond those few thoroughfares wherein are situated the theatres, the clubs, and the houses of the wealthy. For the bachelor who lives the life of London the world revolves around Piccadilly Circus. My pretty companion stood puzzled. It was apparent that she had never heard of any of the thoroughfares I had mentioned, yet it was equally extraordinary that any persons living in London should be entirely ignorant of the district in which they resided. "The thoroughfare in Hampstead is Ellerdale Road, while that in Lewisham is Ellerdale Street. It must be either one or the other, for they are the only two in London?" I said.