The journey to the great metropolis was a long one. They reached there just as the sun was sinking.
The first thing to be thought of was shelter. Inquiring in the drug store opposite the depot, she found that there was a small boarding-house down the first cross-street.
Jessie soon found the street and number to which she had been directed. A pleasant-faced maid opened the door. She was immediately shown into the parlor, and a brisk, bustling little woman soon put in an appearance.
She looked curiously at the two pretty young girls when she learned their errand.
"This is a theatrical boarding-place," she said, "and all of our rooms are full save two, and they are to be occupied on the twentieth. You might have them up to that time, I suppose," she added, unwilling to let the chance of making a few extra dollars go by her. "Or perhaps you and your sister could make the smaller one do for both."
"We could indeed!" eagerly assented Jessie.
She had noticed that the woman had called Margaret Moore her sister, and she said to herself that perhaps it would be as well to let it go at that, as it would certainly save much explanation.
And then again, if the landlady knew that her companion had lost her reason, she would never allow them to stay there over night, no matter how harmless she might be.
Jessie started out bright and early the next morning to search for employment, cautioning Margaret over and over again not to quit the room, and to answer no questions that might be put to her. After the first day's experience, she returned, heartsick and discouraged, to the boarding-house.
"Didn't find anything to do, eh?" remarked the landlady, sympathetically, as she met her at the door.