I was pleased with this honest man, who spoke Italian with the most
exquisite correctness.

On the way back I asked him what I had better do to get a comfortable
lodging. When he heard the style in which I wished to live and the time I
proposed to spend in London, he advised me to take a house completely
furnished.

"You will be given an inventory of the goods," said he, "and as soon as
you get a surety your house will be your castle."

"I like the idea," I answered, "but how shall I find such a house?"

"That is easily done."

He went into a shop, begged the mistress to lend him the Advertiser,
noted down several advertisements, and said,--

"That's all we have to do."

The nearest house was in Pall Mall and we went to see it. An old woman
opened the door to us, and shewed us the ground floor and the three
floors above. Each floor contained two rooms and a closet. Everything
shone with cleanliness; linen, furniture, carpets, mirrors, and china,
and even the bells and the bolts on the doors. The necessary linen was
kept in a large press, and in another was the silver plate and several
sets of china. The arrangements in the kitchen were excellent, and in a
word, nothing was lacking in the way of comfort. The rent was twenty
guineas a week, and, not stopping to bargain, which is never of any use
in London, I told Martinelli that I would take it on the spot.