ell
me about the loss of your child."

The woman's voice was very musical; she spoke in low tones and her
pronunciation and general demeanor betrayed the fact that gentle blood
ran in her veins.

"As I told you, sir, my husband was suffocated, and I was left a widow
with one little child, a daughter. I will not dwell upon my sorrow, but
kindly permit me to say that the horror of that catastrophe has never
passed from my mind, and I have been a sad woman; and now, alas! it
appears as though a greater sorrow were about to overwhelm me."

"Not if I can aid you, madam."

"It is refreshing and gladdening to hear you say so. I had been told
that you were a wonderful and very kind man, and a hero whom any one
could trust. I need the services of a brave, discerning man."

"And if I can serve you, madam, I will; continue your narrative."

"After the death of my husband I removed with my infant daughter to New
York City, as it was necessary that I should earn a living for my child.
I was ambitious to give my daughter a good education--yes, give her
opportunities that were never vouchsafed her mother. I was a very
skillful needlewoman, and taking cheap apartments I applied for work at
some of the large stores, and my skill soon secured me employment and I
continued to live economically in order to save money to educate my
child; and, sir, I succeeded. I worked steadily and was always
successful in securing work, for as I have said, I was a very expert
needlewoman, and so the years sped by until my child became sixteen,
and, sir, I can say that she was indeed splendidly equipped as far as
education is concerned. I intended that she should become a governess
and thus be surrounded by environments in line with her education and
refined tastes. She was always a dutiful and loving daughter, cheerful
where I was sad; hopeful where I was despondent. One year ago my
daughter became appointed as governess in a well-known family and they
treated her in the kindest manner, and became very much attached to
her--indeed they treated her more as an equal than as an employee. As I
have said, my daughter is not only very beautiful, but splendidly
educated, and during her residence with the family I have named she met
among their guests a young German, who claims to be a baron. This young
baron fell in love with her, and from what information I can obtain his
love, or pretended love, was not reciprocated by my child; and now comes
the myster