A great cry broke from Rosamond Lee's lips, and her face grew ashen.
"Did I hear you say Jessie Bain?" she asked.
"Yes; that was the name," returned the landlady, wonderingly. "Do you know her?"
"Yes— I don't know. Describe her. It must be one and the same person," she added under her breath.
"I shouldn't be at all surprised," continued the woman, "for she went to Albany, the very place you have just come from."
"It's the same one," cried Rosamond Lee. "Tell me the story of this demented girl over again in all its details. I was not paying attention before. I did not half listen to all you said."
The landlady went over the story a second time for Rosamond's benefit.
Miss Lee meanwhile paced the room excitedly up and down.
"I'll tell you what I think," she cried excitedly. "Those two girls are surely adventuresses of the worst type. You say at first that she called the demented girl her sister, and then afterward admitted that she was not. You see, there was something wrong from the start. Now let me tell you an intensely interesting sequel to your story: The girl Jessie Bain has, since the few short weeks that she left your place, captured in the matrimonial noose one of the wealthiest young men in Boston."
"Well, well what a marvelous story!" declared the landlady; and her opinion of Jessie Bain went up forthwith instead of being lowered, as Rosamond calculated it would be.