“I’ll say what I’ve got to say about you, miss!” she exclaimed with exultation.  “And you—­nor they—­shan’t stop me.  You’re the girl that was arrested in the store for stealing.  It must have been two—­why, it must have been more than three years ago.  I hadn’t worked there but a little while.  No wonder I didn’t remember you at first.”

Cap’n Ira vented a groan and caught at his wife’s hand.  She was sobbing frantically.  She still murmured her plea for the captain to stop the awful revelation Ida May was bent on making.  But the latter gave no heed and the captain himself was speechless.

“And I can’t remember her name even now,” went on Ida May, flashing a look at the Balls.  Their pitiful appearance made no impression upon her.  “But that don’t matter.  I guess they’ve got your record at Hoskin & Marl’s.  You worked there all right; sure you worked there, in the jewelry section.  You stole something.  I saw the store detective, Miss Hopwell, take you up to the manager’s office.  I never heard what they did to you, but they did a plenty, I bet.”

She turned confidently again to the horrified captain and his wife.

“Just see how she looks.  She don’t deny it.  How she managed to work that Tunis Latham into bringing her down here, I don’t know.  She pulled the wool over his eyes all right.

“Why, she’s a thief!  She was arrested!  I guess you can see now that I’m not crazy—­far from it.  She won’t dare say again that she is Ida May Bostwick.  I—­guess—­not!”

The malevolent exultation of the girl was fearful to behold.  But neither Cap’n Ira nor Prudence now looked at Ida May.  Leaning against her husband, the tears coursing over her withered cheeks, Prudence joined Cap’n Ira in gazing at the other girl.

She rose slowly to her feet.  Something like strength came back to her; even into her voice, as Sheila again spoke.  Nor did she look at Ida May, but fixed her feverish gaze upon the two old people.

“What—­what she says is true—­as far as I am concerned.  But—­but Tunis did not know.  It is not his fault.  I was desperate.  I heard what he said to—­to Miss Bostwick.  I chanced to overhear it.  I was desperate; I hated the city.  I was willing to take a chance for the sake of getting among people who would be kind to me—­who were good.”

“Bah!” exclaimed Ida May raucously.  “You’re not fit to go among good people!”

Sheila did not heed her.  She spoke slowly—­haltingly, but what she said held the old people silent.

“Tunis is not to blame.  I told him this—­this girl”—­she pointed to Ida May, but did not look at her—­“was not the right Miss Bostwick.  I said that I was the girl he wanted to see.  I made him think so.  I tricked him.  Don’t listen to her!” she added wildly, as the enraged Ida May would have interposed.  “Tunis thought she had talked to him just for a joke.  I made him believe that.  I—­I would have done anything then to get away from the city and to come down here.  Perhaps he was at fault because he did not take more time to find out about me—­to be sure I was the right girl.  But he cannot be blamed for anything else.  I tell you, it was all my fault.”