“But how did you come to know this letter had to do with your client?” asked Major Dale, much puzzled at the complications.
“Because Dorothy Dale has a very business-like habit of putting the sender’s name on the corner of her letters. This being written by Miette de Pleau, had that name neatly penned in the upper left-hand corner. This caught the eye of Mr. Freeman, and as he had heard me make some remarks about my little client, had even suspected that a girl employed as cash girl in his own store under the name of Marie Varley, might be the very girl I was so anxious to interview personally, he immediately forwarded the letter to me.”
“Yes, they called me that name—to hide who I was. Auntie said I should not let anyone know I was in a store,” said Miette.
“A remarkable case,” said Major Dale.
“Very,” assented the lawyer. “Of course, we have cases with queer phases, but this has been, as you say, Major, remarkable. To think that we should have a client in our own city whom we were never able to see personally. The aunt insisted the child was at boarding school, and it was very likely a fear of detection that prompted her to send the girl to Glenwood finally.”
“And was the woman actually—wicked?” asked Mrs. White.
“No,” replied Mr. Pierce, “and I should have explained that earlier. Her mind was unbalanced, and she is now in a sanitarium.”
“Oh,” exclaimed Miette, “I often thought that! She was so different at times, but after my uncle went away she was very strange.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Pierce, “we have learned that her peculiar mania for money was not considered—well, dangerous by her husband, and when he went to the East Indies on a business trip he had no reason to fear that anything would go amiss with his niece. It was then that Mrs. Huber sent Miette to work—she explained that the girl would get an American education in that way.”
“The daughter of a marquis?” exclaimed Mrs. White.