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TWENTY-FIVE

M atty looked up from her typing when Ursula opened the door of the office.

“Good morning,” Matty said. “You’re late. I was starting to wonder if you were not feeling well.”

Ursula unpinned her hat and tossed it onto a table. “Once and for all, I am not ill.” She flung her gloves after the hat.

Matty blinked a few times and then she smiled. “No, you are not. In fact, you are positively glowing with good health this morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Matty said. “Just that I have the impression that you will not need to make an appointment with Dr. Ludlow for the treatment of congestion and hysteria.”

Ursula sighed and sank down into her chair. “Is it that obvious?”

“That you and Mr. Roxton have become very, very good friends?” Matty chuckled. “Yes it is and I congratulate you.”

“I’m not sure congratulations are in order.”

“Nonsense. We are both well past the age when we need concern ourselves with our reputations. So long as we are discreet, there is no reason why we should not enjoy the few benefits available to widows and spinsters.”

Ursula had been about to open a desk drawer. She paused.

“We?” she repeated.

Matty smiled serenely and looked at the flowers on her desk.

“Mr. Griffith stopped in to see me first thing this morning,” she said.

“Griffith brought you flowers?”

“Pretty, aren’t they?”

It was Ursula’s turn to smile. “Yes, they are.”

“Mr. Griffith is a very impressive man,” Matty said. “He spent years touring the country and America with a theatrical group.”

“I had heard that.” Ursula paused. “He is a very large man.”

“Yes, he is.” Matty looked pleased. “I believe it is all muscle.”

“No doubt.” Ursula clasped her hands on her desk. “Do you remember Anne’s satchel?”

“Yes, of course. Why?”

“I woke up during the night and remembered that it was not among her things. If you will recall, we packed all of her possessions and clothes into two trunks. I went through both this morning. Her satchel was not in either trunk.”

Matty raised her brows. “It was a very nice satchel. Remember how she showed it off to us the day she bought it? I wonder if her landlady pinched it.”

“I found Anne’s jewelry behind the water closet but there wasn’t room to conceal a large leather satchel there.” Ursula surveyed the office. “Where would you hide a satchel?”

Matty reflected briefly. “I don’t know. I’ve never considered the problem.”

“If I wanted to hide something as big as a satchel and if I didn’t have a safe or some other secure place, I might keep it in a location where a burglar was unlikely to look.”

“Where would that be in a house?”

“Not in a house, Matty.” Ursula jumped to her feet. “In an office.”

She started opening drawers. Matty joined her.

In the end, Ursula discovered the satchel at the back of a filing cabinet drawer.

“She must have been very anxious about the possibility that someone would steal her lovely new bag,” Matty said. “Wonder what’s inside?”

Ursula set the satchel on a desk and unlatched it.

There was a small bundle of letters inside. Ursula selected one at random.

“It’s from Mr. Paladin,” she said. “Editor and publisher of the Paladin Quarterly in New York.”

“Who is Mr. Paladin?” Matty asked.

“Lady Fulbrook’s publisher.” Ursula removed the letter from the envelope and read it quickly.

Dear Miss Clifton:

I have received your short story, “A Proposal from a Lady.” It is clever and intriguing, just the sort of thing that would be of interest to our subscribers. If you have any other stories of a similar style and content I would be happy to consider them for publication in our literary quarterly.

Sincerely,

D. Paladin

“Well, no wonder Anne was careful to hide those letters,” Matty said. “I’ll wager Lady Fulbrook would be furious if she knew that her secretary was secretly selling short stories to the Paladin Quarterly .”

“Do you think so?” Ursula asked.

“Certainly. Very likely she would have viewed Anne as competition.”