n his
hand, he understood me less than ever, which naturally called out my
powers of self-assertion and led to some lively conversation between us.
But that is neither here nor there. He had brought me an answer to my
advertisement and I was presently engrossed by it. It was an uneducated
woman's epistle and its chirography and spelling were dreadful; so I
will just mention its contents, which were highly interesting in
themselves, as I think you will acknowledge.

She, that is, the writer, whose name, as nearly as I could make out, was
Bertha Desberger, knew such a person as I described, and could give me
news of her if I would come to her house in West Ninth Street at four
o'clock Sunday afternoon.

If I would! I think my face must have shown my satisfaction, for Mr.
Alvord, who was watching me, sarcastically remarked:

"You don't seem to find any difficulties in that communication. Now,
what do you think of this one?"

He held out another letter which had been directed to him, and which he
had opened. Its contents called up a shade of color to my cheek, for I
did not want to go through the annoyance of explaining myself again:

"DEAR SIR:

"From a strange advertisement which has lately appeared in the
_Herald_, I gather that information is wanted of a young woman
who on the morning of the eighteenth inst. entered my store
without any bonnet on her head, and saying she had met with an
accident, bought a hat which she immediately put on. She was
pale as a girl could be and looked so ill that I asked her if
she was well enough to be out alone; but she gave me no reply
and left the store as soon as possible. That is all I can tell
you about her."

With this was enclosed his card:

PHINEAS COX,

_Millinery_,

_Trimmed and Untrimmed Hats_,

---- Sixth Avenue.

"Now, what does this mean?" asked Mr. Alvord. "The morning of the
eighteenth was the morning when the murder was discovered in which you
have shown such interest."

"It means," I retorted with some spirit, for simple dignity was thrown
away on this man, "that I made a mistake in choosing your office as a
medium for my business communications."

This was to the point and he said no more, though he eyed the letter in
my hand very curiously, and seemed more than tempted to renew the
hostilities with which we had opened our interview.

Had it not been Saturday, and late in the day