"And I do need some one to help me," murmured Estelle. "I am all alone in the world."
"You must have relatives somewhere!" insisted Alice.
"None that I ever heard of. But then, who knows what might have happened in the life that is a blank to me—in the life that lies beyond that impenetrable wall of the past?
"But I mustn't get hysterical again. Just let me think for a moment, so I may tell you my story clearly. I shall be all right in a moment or two."
"Let me make you a cup of tea," proposed Ruth. "I'll make some for all of us," and presently the little kettle was steaming over the spirit lamp, and the girls were sipping the fragrant beverage.
"Thank you. That was good!" murmured Estelle. "I feel better now. I'll tell the rest of my miserable story to you."
"Don't make it too miserable," and Alice tried to make her laugh a gay one.
"I won't—not any more so than I can help. I think it will do me good to let you share the mystery with me."
"Then it is a mystery?" asked Ruth.
"Somewhat, yes. You may think it strange, but I can not think back more than three years—four at the most. I am not at all certain of the time. But go back as far as I can, all I remember is that I was on a large steamer."