When Jane appeared she was glad to talk to her.

She little knew that Jane was about to open the sore, sore place in
her heart, to probe roughly that wound that seemed as if it would
never heal.

When Jane left her, she was really trembling with agitation and
terror. Another, then, knew her secret. If that was so, it might any
day be made plain to the world that she had caused the death of the
only creature she loved.

Lydia was so upset that the purse, with its gold and notes, became
for the time of no interest to her.

There was but one remedy for her woes. She must sleep. She knew,
alas! that brandy would make her sleep.

Just before she laid her head on her pillow, she so far remembered
the purse as to take it out of her pocket, and hold it in her hand.
She thought the feel of the precious gold would comfort her.

Jane found it no difficult task to remove the purse from her
nerveless fingers. When she awoke in the morning, it was gone.

Lydia had, however, scarcely time to realize her loss, scarcely time
to try if it had slipped under the bedclothes, before Jane Parsons,
with her bonnet and cloak still on, walked into the room. She came
straight up to the bed, stood close to Lydia, and spoke:

"You will wonder where I have been, and what I have been doing? I