Just before Christmas of 1887, a lady past her twenties, and with a
look of discouraged weariness on her thin face, knocked at a
house-door in a little street by Lavender Hill. A card in the window
gave notice that a bedroom was here to let. When the door opened,
and a clean, grave, elderly woman presented herself, the visitor,
regarding her anxiously, made known that she was in search of a
lodging.

'It may be for a few weeks only, or it may be for a longer period,'
she said in a low, tired voice, with an accent of good breeding. 'I
have a difficulty in finding precisely what I want. One room would
be sufficient, and I ask for very little attendance.'

She had but one room to let, replied the other. It might be
inspected.

They went upstairs. The room was at the back of the house, small,
but neatly furnished. Its appearance seemed to gratify the visitor,
for she smiled timidly.

'What rent should you ask?'

'That would depend, mum, on what attendance was required.'

'Yes--of course. I think--will you permit me to sit down? I am
really very tired. Thank you. I require very little attendance