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

Miss Archwick , but I always feel as if I should salute when she enters or leaves a room.”
    “Your reaction isn’t unique, Adele. She has that effect on most people.”
    “But not on you, Engie .”
    “Oh, you’d be surprised. You would indeed.” Intent on a way to turn the conversation, and at the same time uncover a possible suspect, Evangeline looked around the room. “I see none of the gentlemen have elected to join us.”
    “There aren’t that many on duty this evening,” replied Miss Burroughs, the other lady seated at the table, “just Mr. Johnston who’s to teach the art class, but he hasn’t arrived yet. And then there’s Mr. DiStefano who’s doing some research in the library. But I think he’s taking tea in the study tonight instead.”
    “Oh, how disappointing. I don’t know either gentleman well.” Evangeline hoped to lead the discussion to that most favored feminine topic—the dissection of the male psyche.
    Miss DeWitt leaped into the trap. “Mr. Johnston is quite the ladies’ man, or at least he fancies himself to be.”
    “Really? And why is that, pray tell?”
    “He wears so much hair pomade that one is fairly blinded by the glare when he takes off his hat.” Miss DeWitt tittered at the image.
    “What a dashing figure he must be,” Evangeline encouraged further confidence. “And what about Mr. DiStefano? Does he fall into the same category?”
    “I should say not!” exclaimed Miss Burroughs. “He’s about as pompous a fellow as I’ve ever seen—very earnest about his work. That is,” she qualified the statement, “as far as I can tell since he hardly ever condescends to speak to anyone about it.”
    “So he doesn’t join you here often?”
    Miss Burroughs laughed. “He comes here about as often as you do, Engie !”
    “Oh, I see, once in a blue moon? But at least when I do decide to show up, I have enough common decency to carry on a conversation.”
    “The distinction is duly noted. But we only criticize your absence, my dear, because we enjoy your company and miss you when you make yourself so scarce.”
    “Very elegantly said, Therese. I’ve never had the knack of turning a potential insult into such a pretty compliment. I’m quite impressed.” Miss DeWitt giggled at the retort and indulged in mock applause. Miss Burroughs bowed her head to acknowledge the approbation.
    “But on a more serious note, Engie , we’re very sorry to hear about Elsa. I know that she was a particular favorite of yours, and I’m sure I speak for both of us when I say how sad we are about it.”
    Evangeline glanced down briefly at the table. “Yes, it was a great shock. I attended her funeral last Wednesday.”
    “And to have Franz arrested, too. How could he do such a thing?” Miss DeWitt added timorously.
    “It’s a little early to make the assumption that he’s guilty. But without some solid evidence to point the police in another direction, I’m very much afraid he’ll be convicted just the same.”
    The faces of Miss DeWitt and Miss Burroughs took on a look of gloom.
    With a start, Evangeline realized how long she had dallied in the dining hall. She stood abruptly. “I’m sorry to leave you both in such a depressed state, but I had better be getting along to my class now.”
    The two ladies sent her off with murmurings of condolence. As she retreated toward the end of the room, Evangeline could hear Miss DeWitt heave a tremendous sigh. The young lady summed up the situation with great sincerity, if not great originality, “How very, very sad.”
    ***
    Some two hours later when Evangeline dismissed her literature class for the evening, she called out to a girl seated in the back row. “Miss MacGregor, I’d like you to stay. I need to speak to you about something.”
    The girl nodded nervously. Being singled out at work was usually cause for alarm, and she seemed to apply the same rule to the classroom. Although she was a head taller than Evangeline, she somehow