An incident soon occurred, however, which was sufficient to engage Rosalind's mind, and start a train of thought that was not likely soon to be exhausted.
A crime had been committed, and suspicion fastened upon a poor young girl, who led a wandering life and obtained a living, no one knew how. Valuable goods had been stolen, and her presence the same day at the store whence they were taken was considered sufficient proof to warrant her arrest. The missing articles were also found in the building whither she resorted, of which the other inmates declared themselves wholly ignorant, and she was silent, making no reply to any interrogatories addressed to her. Her stolid indifference surprised even the hardened officials who took her in custody, and yet there was something in her face in striking contrast with her apparent recklessness. An air of innocence breathed through her demeanor, wholly irreconcilable with the low companionship she seemed to have chosen; but neither persuasion nor entreaty could draw from her a single word of her history. When asked if she had any friends who would interest themselves in her favor, she resolutely shook her head, and it was evident to all that she must suffer the full penalty of the law, so strongly conclusive of her guilt were all the circumstances against her, while no one appeared in her behalf.
Amelia had frequent interviews with her, and after repeated attempts succeeded in drawing her into conversation. She denied all participation in the theft, but confessed to a partial knowledge of it. By degrees Amelia drew from her a sketch of
