she could seeking for some humble street with rooms to let--some refuge
to lie down in and rest her throbbing head. She passed through Colville
Gardens, scarcely knowing where she was; but the tall, gloomy, ugly
houses there were all too big for her; and she did not know that in some
of them were refuges for poor girls--servants and governesses out of
place--where for a few shillings a week she might have had board and
lodging. Turning aside, she came into the long, narrow, crooked
Portobello Road, full of grimy-looking shops, and after walking a little
further turned at last into a short street of small houses tenanted by
people of the labourer class.

At one of these houses she was shown a small furnished room by a
suspicious-looking woman, who asked four-and-sixpence a week for it,
including "hot water." Fan agreed to take it for a week at that rent. The
poor woman wanted the money, but seemed undecided. Presently she said,
"You see, miss, it's like this, you haven't got no box, and ain't dressed
like one that lodges in these places, and--and I couldn't let you the
room without the money down."

"Oh, I'll pay you now," said Fan; and taking the sovereign from her
purse, asked the woman to get change.

"Very well, miss; if you'll go downstairs, I'll put the room straight for
you."

"Oh, I must lie down now, my head is aching so," said Fan, feeling that
she could no longer stand.

"What ails you--are you going to be ill?"