Page:The Black Cat v01no01 (1895-10).pdf/19



T was Detective Gilbert who told the story to a group of boarders seated on the piazza of one of the quaint old Rhinelander houses. These dwellings, though situated on West Eleventh Street, in the very heart of New York, present an almost rural spectacle, with their green lawns, wide piazzas, and vine-covered balconies.

"It was one day about two years ago," said Mr. Gilbert, "that I received a card on which was engraved the name, 'Miss Julia Wood.' The name was a familiar one. When my wife was living Miss Wood had been an intimate friend of hers and a frequent visitor to our house. Since then I had lost trace of the girl, and knew only that, owing to her father's death and the straitened circumstances of herself and her sister, she had taken up the study of stenography and typewriting, with the idea of earning her living. So when she rose to meet me in the reception-room I was startled by her changed appearance and the haggard, anxious expression of her face.

"'Mr. Gilbert, I am in great trouble,' she exclaimed, as I shook hands with her, and then, without further preliminaries, she stated her case.

"'You know, Mr. Gilbert, that for over a year I have been studying stenography and typewriting, and you can understand that lately I have been very anxious to find a place. At first, I supposed that this would not be difficult, but I soon discovered that my lack of practical experience stood in the way of my getting anything at all. In fact, it was not until this week that even a temporary opening presented itself.'

"Here Miss Wood paused for a moment, as if to summon all her strength, and then continued:

"'About eleven o'clock yesterday morning, my teacher, Mr. 17