“The birds were singing and the cows mooed in the meadow.  I tried to sing, too, for my heart was light and gay and I was happy.  By and bye I came to a town; but no one seemed to be awakened because it was yet so early.  As I walked down the street I saw smoke coming from one of the chimneys, and it suddenly occurred to me that I was hungry.  I entered the yard and went around to the back door.  A woman was working in the kitchen and I laughed joyfully and wished her a good morning.  She was not very pleasant, but it did me good to talk with her; I liked to hear my own voice and it pleased me to be able to talk easily and well.  She grudgingly gave me something to eat and then bade me begone, calling me by some strange name and saying I was a thief.  It was then that I invented the name of Eliza Parsons.  I don’t know why, but it popped into my head and I claimed it for my name and have clung to it ever since.”

“Have you no idea what your real name is?” asked Louise, greatly interested in this terse relation.

“I have no idea of anything that dates beyond that morning,” replied Eliza.  “The first time I looked in the mirror I saw a strange face reflected there.  I had to make my own acquaintance,” she added, with one of her bright laughs.  “I suppose I am between seventeen and twenty years of age, but what my life was during past years is to me a sealed book.  I cannot remember a person I knew or associated with, yet things outside of my personal life seem to have clung to me.  I remembered books I must have read; I can write, sing and sew—­I sew remarkably well, and must have once been trained to it.  I know all about my country’s history, yet I cannot recollect where I lived, and this part of the country is unknown to me.  When I came to Elmhurst I knew all about it and about Mr. Forbes, but could not connect them with my former life.”

“How did you happen to come here?” asked Louise.

“I forgot to tell you that.  While I was arguing with the woman, who was a Mrs. Hopkins, her husband heard us and came out into the kitchen.  He began to question me about myself and I gave any answer that came into my head, for I could not tell him the truth.  It pleased me to hear my voice, I seemed to have a keen sense of the humorous, and if I said anything at all clever, I laughed as heartily as anyone.  My heart was light and free from all care.  I had no worries or responsibilities at all.  I was like the birds who see the sunshine and feel the breeze and are content to sing and be happy.

“Mr. Hopkins saw I was wholly irresponsible and reckless, and he decided to use me to spy upon the people here at Elmhurst and report to him what they said and did.  I agreed to this readily, prompted by a spirit of mischief, for I cared nothing for Hopkins and had nothing against Mr. Forbes.  Also Hopkins paid me money, which I had sufficient knowledge to realize was necessary to me.