On ascending to the third floor, Simes, my man, opened the door and she advanced timidly down the tiny passage to my sitting-room. It was not a very large apartment, but I had furnished it comfortably a couple of years before, and it presented a rather cosy appearance with the table-cover and velvet _portieres_ of sage green to match, a couple of big roomy saddlebag chairs of club dimensions, a high, carved-oak buffet, with its strip of white cloth spread as daintily as in the dining-room of any well-appointed house, for Simes was an excellent man, as natty as a chamber-maid. He took a pride in keeping my rooms spick and span. An ex-trooper of Hussars, he had seen service with me in Egypt before I left the Service, and was a model servant, obeying with military precision, and was eminently trustworthy, save where whiskey was concerned. He could not be expected to resist the temptation of taking a drop from my tantalus on odd occasions. Upon the walls of my room were a few choice pictures which I had purchased from time to time, together with a pencil caricature of myself drawn by one of the _Punch_ artists who was an old friend, and a couple of plaques which had been given me by the lady who painted them. In the middle of the room stood the square table with a bowl of flowers in the centre, on one side of the fireplace a revolving bookstand, and on the other nearest the window, which looked down upon Charing Cross Road, a small triangular table of rosewood, whereon stood some curios which I had picked up during my pleasure trip round the world. I give this detailed description of my own quarters because it will be found necessary in order to properly understand the story. "What a pretty room!" was my fair unknown's first exclamation. "Do you think so? I'm glad you like it," I laughed, for most of my visitors were in the habit of making similar observations. "Do sit down," and I drew forward one of the big armchairs. With a word of thanks she seated herself, and when I placed a hassock at her feet she stretched out one tiny foot upon it coquettishly, although with such natural grace that there was nothing fast about her. I stood upon the hearthrug looking at her, and when our eyes met she laughed a bright, merry laugh, all the misgivings she had previously entertained having now vanished. "First, you must be faint, for it is so late," and touching the bell Simes instantly answered, and I ordered port wine and glasses. She protested instantly, but on being pressed sipped half a glass and left the remainder. We chatted on as Simes, who had been waiting on us, with a glance of wonder, left and closed the door. Then, rising, I took down the Directory from the bookcase and opened it at the "Streets." She rose from her chair, and gazed eagerly upon the great puzzling volume until I came to Ellerdale Street.