Free The Fall Of White City (Gilded Age Mysteries Book 1) by N. S. Wikarski

and disappeared to calculate the bill.
    Patsy eyed the dish with a mixture of longing and suspicion. “Miss Engie ,” she whispered so as not to proclaim her ignorance to the entire room. “What is it?”
    “It’s an ice cream parfait, child, and your next alphabet lesson. The word is spelled p-a-r-f-a- i -t. Try it. Most young people your age find it quite delightful.”
    The girl picked up her spoon hesitantly and tried the concoction. After the first mouthful there was no holding her back. She didn’t raise her head from the dish until the entire mountainous confection had been consumed.
    Evangeline watched in silence until this gustatory revel was over. Finally, she asked, “I assume you’ll tell your mother you’ve worked without lunch today?”
    “ Ohhh ,” the girl moaned. “I’ll have to tell her the truth. That I have a stomachache and don’t want any dinner.”
    Evangeline smiled benevolently. “However you arrange matters with your conscience is no concern of mine.”
    She rose. “And now, my dear, it’s two o’clock, and Jack should have managed to travel the two additional blocks to meet us. Time to drop you back at the gates of the honorable Mr. Van Ryn .”
    Patsy’s eyes were shining. “Thank you, Miss Engie . I’ll never forget today. It’s the finest thing that ever happened to me.”
    Evangeline looked down at the girl, smiling a bit sadly. “I shall hope, Patsy, that before long many finer things than this will happen to you. But, I’m sorry to say, today’s adventure is at an end.”

Chapter 6—The Mast House Inquisition
    “Evening, Martha,” Evangeline said pleasantly as she entered the old Mast mansion on Monday evening.
    She was greeted in turn by one of the neighborhood girls who presided over the reception desk. “Hello, Miss LeClair.”
    Evangeline cast a glance around the foyer and found it devoid of its usual chaotic activity of running children and anxious volunteers. “Where is everybody?”
    “I think it’s just a lull.” Martha put down the book she had been reading. “Everything will be back to organized confusion by the time evening classes start. Are you looking for anyone in particular, Miss LeClair?”
    “No, not really. I just had a bit more free time than usual before my class begins and I thought I’d stop by to chat with whoever was around.”
    Martha consulted the clock on the wall. “Well, by this time I expect most of them have wandered off toward the residents’ dining hall. I just saw Miss Archwick headed that way. I’m not sure where Miss Eaves is. I think she had a late appointment at the mayor’s office.”
    “Oh, never mind about that, Martha. I don’t need to find Miss Eaves. I’ll just go and see who’s around. Thank you.”
    The girl nodded and turned back to her book.
    The Mast House settlement was an oddity among Chicago ’s charities. It was started by two genteel ladies of independent means named Jane Eaves and Ellen Archwick . They had purchased a moldering mansion in the heart of a slum, moved in, and invited their immigrant neighbors to visit. The mansion soon became the site of meetings and classes that attracted not only the local inhabitants but Chicago ’s intellectuals as well. Evangeline, equipped with an education many considered excessive for a female, took to the settlement like a swan to water. In addition to attending lectures there, she taught classes in English and literature. On this particular evening, she came not only to teach but to learn whatever she could about Elsa Bauer’s gentleman, a resident at the settlement. She struck off across the courtyard in the direction of the dining hall hoping to find her colleagues there in a talkative mood.
    When she walked into the open dining room, she saw two ladies seated at one of the trestle tables that ran down the length of the room. They were both listening to an animated monologue conducted by a middle-aged woman wearing a pince-nez. As Evangeline