however, in the interim--the poor young
creature had become hopelessly insane, whether through fright, or by
being struck upon the head by a piece of the wreck, they could not as
yet determine.

Jessie Bain's pity for her knew no bounds. She pleaded with her uncle
with all the eloquence she was capable of to allow the stranger to
remain beneath that roof and in the end her pleading prevailed, and
Margaret Moore was installed as a fixture in the Carr homestead.

Jessie Bain would sit and watch her by the hour, noting how soft and
white her hands were, and how ladylike her manners. She said to herself
that she must be a perfect lady, and to the manner born.

There was something so pathetic about her--(she was by no means
violent)--that Jessie could not help but love her. And the words were
ever upon her lips, that she was to be parted from her lover as soon as
her journey ended; that he had discovered all, and now he had ceased to
love her; that twice she had nearly won him, but that fate had stepped
in-between them.

Of course, Jessie knew that her words were but the outgrowth of a
deranged mind, and that there had been no lover on the steamer "St.
Lawrence" with Margaret Moore. All day long the girl would wring her
hands and call for her lover, until it made Jessie's heart bleed to hear
her.

But there was no tangible sense to any remarks that she made. She seemed
so grateful to Jessie, who in turn grew very fond of her grateful
charge. Jessie Bain was not a reader of the newspapers. She never knew
that Hubert Varrick had been on the ill-fated "St. Lawrence" on that
memorable night, and that he had lost his bride.

Frank Moray, who had been only too glad to send Jessie the item
announcing Hubert Varrick's marriage to another, took good care not to
let her know that Varrick was free again. So the girl dreamed of him as
being off in Europe somewhere, happy with his beautiful bride. Of
course, he had forgotten her long since--that was to be expected; in
fact, she would not have it otherwise.

Two months had gone by since that Hallowe'en night. It had made little
change in the Carr household. The captain still plied his trade up and
down the river, Jessie divided her time between taking care of her
uncle's humble cottage and watching over poor Margaret Moore.

There were times when the girl really seemed to understand just how much
Jessie was doing for her, and certainly it was gratitude that looked out
of the dar