There was no resisting this imperious old man with the frail figure and the snow-white abundant hair. Nello promised that he and his sister would move into Dean Street that afternoon. In the meantime, he would take the letter of introduction to Mr. Gay, who had lodgings in Gower Street, no great distance. Mr. Gay was a fat, rubicund man with a somewhat faded and slatternly wife. He read Péron's note and a genial smile lit up his massive face. "Good!" he cried heartily. "My old friend vouches for you, and you have come in the very nick of time. One of my men is leaving in a couple of days--got a better berth. You can take his place. But before we settle, you may as well give me a taste of your quality. We go in for rather high-class music at the Parthenon. Play me Gounod's 'Ave Maria,' I always test a man with that." He called to the slatternly woman who was crouching over the fire. "Ada, please go to the piano and play the accompaniment for this young man." Mrs. Gay complied with the request. Nello played the beautiful piece with all his soul. Gay listened, attentively. When it was finished, he applauded loudly. "By Jove, you are great! Péron was right. He has not exaggerated. You have had no chance, eh?" Nello stammered that he had had no chances. He did not dare confess to this prosperous person, composer as well as conductor of an orchestra, that, lately, he had been playing in the streets for a living to pay for his miserable lodging and scanty food. They arranged terms with many apologies on the part of Mr. Gay. "It is an insult to a man of your talent to offer such a miserable pittance. But my hands are tied, and tied very strictly, I can tell you. Turn up at the Parthenon on Friday night; you will soon get something better. You can read music quickly?" Nello assured him on that point. He could read music as easily as his newspaper. The terms which Mr. Gay offered him were riches compared to the few coppers he had earned in the streets. That same afternoon he and the joyful Anita presented themselves in Dean Street, with their few belongings. Papa Péron furnished a royal supper and broached another bottle of the very excellent Chambertin. There was, however, still the question of clothes. Nello had nothing but what he stood up in, and the Parthenon was a very swagger theatre. Péron was equal to the emergency. He took the young man round to a neighbouring costumier's, and secured a dress-suit on the hire-purchase system, at a very small outlay of ready money which he advanced. For, although the good Papa was not rich, he was very thrifty, and usually had a shot in the locker. It was a very happy _ménage_; the old Frenchman was kindness and geniality itself. He seemed to grow younger in the society of his youthful friends.