Two days after the events just related, Emily Remsen's maid announced that she had just received news that her mother was very ill, and that she had been notified to go to her at once. Her mother, she said, lived in Elizabeth, New Jersey. She wished to go at the earliest possible moment, and begged that her cousin, Lucette, should be allowed to attend to her duties till her return, which she hoped would be in a very few days. Asked if her cousin was competent, she said yes, and especially apt at arranging the hair, having served an apprenticeship with a French hair-dresser. Indeed the girl's real name was Lucy, but she had changed it to Lucette, to pretend that being French she was necessarily a good maid.

In Miss Remsen's mind this changing of her name was nothing in the girl's favor; but as her own maid was thus suddenly taken from her, and as this other was offered at once, she agreed to the proposal.

Lucette arrived during the afternoon, and Miss Remsen was delighted with her. Expecting a talkative, intrusive person, assuming Frenchified mannerisms, she was surprised to find a quiet unpretentious creature, who immediately showed herself to be well acquainted with the duties required of her. Within the first twenty-four hours she found herself so much better served than by her absent maid, that she almost wished that the mother would require her for a long time. Dora, too, was charmed with Lucette.

"Queen," said she the next afternoon, "what do you think of your new maid?"

"Who? – Lucette?" answered the sister. "O I think she does very well."

"Does very well? Why, Queen, she is a jewel. If you do not appreciate her, I wish you would bequeath her to me when Sarah returns."

"O ho! So my young miss wants a maid to herself, does she?"

"O no! Not especially, but I want to keep Lucette in the family. She is a treasure. Dressing the hair is not her only accomplishment either, though I never saw yours look more beautiful. She has just arranged the table for our 'afternoon tea,' and I never saw anything like it. It is just wonderful what that girl can do with a napkin in the way of decoration."

"O yes," said Emily, "Lucette is clever; but don't let her know that we think so. It might make her less valuable. Now tell me, Dora dear, who is coming this afternoon?"

"Oh! The usual crush I suppose."

"Including Mr. Randolph?"

"Queen, there is a mystery about him. Let me tell you. In the first place, he has not been here for over a week, and then yesterday I saw him coming down Fifth Avenue, and, would you believe it? just as I was about to bow to him, he turned down a side street."

"He did not see you, my dear, or he surely would have spoken. He would have been too glad."

"Well, if he did not see me, he must have suddenly contracted near-sightedness; that is all I have to say."

Shortly after, company began to arrive, and very soon the rooms were filled by a crowd which is aptly described by the term used by Dora. One goes to these affairs partly from duty and partly from habit. One leaves mainly from the instinctive sense of self-preservation inherent in all.

Dora was besieged by a number of admirers, and took pleasure in avoiding Mr. Randolph, who was assiduous in his attentions. He seemed anxious to get her off into the seclusion of a corner, a scheme which the young lady frustrated without appearing to do so.

Mr. Thauret was also present, though he did not remain very long. He chatted a short time with Emily on conventional subjects, and then worked his way to the side of Dora, where he lingered longer. He said several pretty things to her, such as she had heard already in different forms from other men, but with just a tone, which seemed to indicate that he spoke from his heart rather than from the mere passing fancy of pleasing. It was very skilfully done. There was so little of it, that no one, certainly not an inexperienced girl like Dora, could suspect that it was all studied. Yet after he had gone, and the company was thinning out, Mr. Randolph found his long-sought opportunity, and sat down for a tête-à-tête with Dora. He began at once.

"Miss Dora, why do you allow a cad like that Frenchman to make love to you?"

"Are you alluding to my friend, Mr. Thauret?" She accentuated the word "friend" merely to exasperate Mr. Randolph, and succeeded admirably.

"He is not your friend. In my opinion, he is nobody's friend but his own."

"That has been said of so many, that it is no new idea."

"But do be serious, Miss Dora. You must not allow this fellow to worm his way into your circle, and more than all, you must not allow him to make love to you."

"You surprise me, Mr. Randolph. I had no idea that Mr. Thauret was making love to me. I could relate everything that he said, and it would scarcely bear out your assumption."

"That is only his cunning. He is too shrewd to speak plainly, so soon"; and yet this young philosopher was not wise enough to see that he was damaging his own cause by putting ideas into the girl's mind which had not yet entered there.

"Why, Mr. Randolph, you are really becoming amusing. You are like Don Quixote fighting windmills. You imagine a condition, and then give me a warning. It is entirely unnecessary, I assure you. Mr. Thauret was not acting in any such way as you impute to him."

"You are not angry with me, I hope. You know what prompted me to speak?"

"No, I fear I am not so clever as you at reading other people's motives."

"But surely you must have guessed that – "

"Guessed what?" Dora looked at him so candidly, that he was abashed. It was his opportunity to declare himself, and he might have done so, had not Mr. Mitchel entered the room at that moment. Seeing him, Mr. Randolph thought of the peculiar position he would be in if his friend should be proven to be a criminal. For this reason he hesitated, and thus lost a chance which did not recur again for a very long time. He replied in a jesting tone, and soon after left the house.

The company had departed. Dora had gone to her own room, leaving Mr. Mitchel and Emily alone together.

"Emily, my Queen," said Mr. Mitchel, taking one of her hands caressingly within both of his, as they sat upon a tête-à-tête sofa, "I almost believe that I am dreaming when I think that you love me."

"Why so, Roy?"

"Listen, little woman. I am in an odd mood to-night, and I wish very much to talk to you. May I?"

For answer she touched him lightly, lovingly, on the face with her disengaged hand, and bowed assent.

"Then listen while I make my confession. I am different from other men, much as I count you different from all women. I have met many, in all the capitals of Europe, and here in my own country. I have never been affected by any, as I was by you. In the first instant of meeting you, I had chosen you for my wife. When I asked for you, I had not the least idea that you would refuse, until having spoken, I saw the bold audacity of my words, and for half an instant the idea lived with me that I was too presumptuous."

"You were not, my Roy. Like you I have passed lovers by, as unaffected as by the ocean breezes. When I met you, I said to myself: 'This is my master.'"

"God bless you, Emily. Let me continue. I have chosen you to be my wife. As heaven is my witness, I shall never deceive you in aught. But, – and this is the hard test which your love must endure – I may be compelled at times to keep you in ignorance of some things. Do you think that your love is great enough to believe that when I do so it is from love of you, that I keep a secret from you?"

"Roy, perhaps this is conceit, but if so, still I say it. A weaker love than mine would say to you, 'I trust you, but I love you so that you need not hesitate to share your secrets with me.' I tell you that I trust you implicitly. That I am content to hear your secrets or not, as your own judgment and love for me shall decide."

"I knew that you would speak so. Had you said less I should have been disappointed. I will tell you then at once, that there is a secret in my life which I have shared with no one, and which I am not willing yet to reveal to you. Are you still content?"

"Do you doubt it? Do you think that I would make an assertion only to draw back from my boast as soon as tried?"

"No, my Queen, but it is asking much to ask a woman to marry whilst there is a secret which cannot be told. Especially when there are those who may believe that there is shame or worse, concealed."

"No one would dare to so misjudge you!"

"Indeed, but you are mistaken. There are those who do not count me as irreproachable as I may seem to you. What if I were to tell you that a detective watches me day and night?"

"Oho? That would not frighten me. You have explained all about your wager. I suppose Mr. Barnes is keeping an eye on you. Is that it?"

"Partly that, and partly because he thinks that I am connected with this murdered woman. To a certain extent he is right."

"You mean that you knew her?"

"Yes." Mr. Mitchel paused to see whether she would ask another question after his admission. But she meant all that she had said when asserting that she trusted him. She remained silent. Mr. Mitchel continued: "Naturally Mr. Barnes is desirous of learning how much I know. There are urgent reasons why I do not wish him to do so. You have it in your power to aid me."

"I will do so!"

"You have not heard what it is that I wish."

"I do not care what it is. I will do it if you ask me."

"You are worthy of my love." He drew her gently towards him, and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I say it not in egotism, for I love you as much as man may. Were you unworthy – I should never love again."

"You may trust me, Roy." Her words were simple, but there was a passion of truth contained in their utterance.

"I will tell you at once, what I wish. For it must be done promptly. You must be ready – Who is that?"

Mr. Mitchel spoke the last two words in a sharp tone, rising from his seat and taking a step forward. The large room was but dimly lighted, the gas having been lowered to please Emily who abhorred well-lighted rooms. At the further end some one was standing, and had attracted Mr. Mitchel's attention. It was Lucette, and she replied at once:

"Your mother sent me to know if you are ready for supper, Miss Emily."

"Say that we will be in, in a few minutes," replied Emily, and Lucette left the room.

"Who is that girl?" asked Mr. Mitchel.

Emily explained how the new maid had been engaged and Mr. Mitchel speaking in a tone louder than was really necessary, said:

"She seems to be a quiet, good girl. Rather too quiet, for she startled me coming in so noiselessly. Shall we go in? What I have to tell you will keep. It is something I wish you to do for me the day after to-morrow."

After supper Mr. Mitchel took the two girls and their mother to the theatre, much to the delight of the latter, who was always shocked whenever Emily went unattended by a chaperone. The party walked going and coming, and as Dora and her mother were ahead, Mr. Mitchel had ample opportunity to explain to his fiancée the favor which he wished her to do for him. When leaving the house that night he said:

"You will not see me again for a couple of days. Keep well till then."

Lucette, who had overheard this remark, was, therefore, rather astonished to see Mr. Mitchel walk in the next morning as early as ten o'clock. She was still more surprised to have her mistress announce that she was going out. What puzzled her most of all was that Emily went out alone, leaving Mr. Mitchel in the parlor. In fact this seemed to give her so much food for reflection, that as though struck by the conclusions arrived at, she herself prepared to go out. As she was passing along the hall, however, the parlor door opened and Mr. Mitchel confronted her.

"Where are you going, Lucette?"

"I have an errand to do, sir," she replied with a slight tremor.

"Come into the parlor, first. I wish to speak to you." She felt compelled to obey, and walked into the room, Mr. Mitchel opening the door and waiting for her to pass through. He then followed, after closing the door behind him, locking it and taking the key from the lock.

"Why did you do that?" asked Lucette angrily.

"You forget yourself, Lucette. You are a servant, and good servants such as you have proven that you know how to be, never ask questions. However, I will answer you. I locked the door because I do not wish you to get out of this room."

"I won't be locked in here with you. I am a respectable girl."

"No one doubts it. You need not get excited, I am not going to hurt you in any way."

"Then why have you brought me in here?"

"Simply to keep you here till – well, say till twelve o'clock. That is about two hours. Do you mind?"

"Yes, I do mind. I won't be kept in here alone with you for two hours."

"You amuse me. How will you prevent it?"

Lucette bit her lip, but said nothing. She saw that there was no help for her. She might scream, of course, but Mrs. Remsen and Dora had gone out before Emily. She and Mr. Mitchel were alone in the apartment. She might attract the attention of the janitor, or of people in the street. As this idea occurred to her she glanced toward the window. Mr. Mitchel divined her thoughts in a moment.

"Don't try screaming, Lucette," said he, "for if you do, I will be compelled to gag you. You will find that very uncomfortable for two hours."

"Will you tell me why you wish to keep me here?"

"I thought I did tell you. The fact is, I do not wish you to do that little errand of yours."

"I don't understand you."

"Oh, yes, you do. You are not such a fool as all that. Now, my girl, you may as well bow to the inevitable. Make yourself comfortable till twelve. Read the paper, if you wish. There is an interesting account of the murder case. The woman, you know, who was killed in the flat upstairs. Have you followed it?"

"No, I have not," she replied, snappishly.

"That is strange. Do you know, I took you to be just the person who would have a deep interest in that kind of thing."

"Well, I am not."

For the next two hours not a word passed. Mr. Mitchel sat in a large arm-chair and simply watched the girl with an aggravating smile upon his face. In fact the smile was so aggravating, that after encountering it a few minutes, Lucette did not look at him again, but rivetted her gaze upon the opposite side of the street. At last the clock chimed twelve. Instantly the girl arose.

"May I go now?"

"Yes, Lucette, you may go now – and do your little errand – that is if it is not too late. And by the way, Lucette, Miss Remsen asked me to say to you that she will not need your services after to-day."

"Do you mean that I am discharged?"

"Not exactly that. I said you would not be needed. You see Miss Remsen thinks that you come into and go out of rooms with too little noise. She is very nervous, and it startles her to find you in her presence, without having heard you enter."

"You are a devil!" replied Lucette in a passion, as she darted through the door, which Mr. Mitchel had unlocked, and ran down-stairs and out of the house.

"I was right," thought Mr. Mitchel, as he sat down once more.

Lucette hurried across to Broadway and went into the district telegraph office at the corner. Hastily scribbling a few lines on a blank, she asked for a boy, and gave him a coin with the instruction to "hurry." She then went down to Madison Square and waited there – I was about to write, patiently – but really the word would not apply. She sat on a bench. Jumped up in less than five minutes, walked about for awhile, and then sat down again, repeating this over and over, till it was plain that she was in a bad humor, – a very bad humor.

At last she saw a man approaching her, and hurried to meet him. It was Mr. Barnes. He, too, looked excited.

"Well, what is it? Why are you here?" he asked.

"I am discharged!"

"Discharged? Why?"

"I don't know why, but that devil Mitchel is at the bottom of it. He locked me up for two hours this morning, and then told me Miss Remsen would not need me any further. I felt like scratching his eyes out." She then told the story to the detective, winding up with, "From what I did catch of their conversation last night I think he has made a confidant of his sweetheart. He asked her to help him and just as he was about to tell her what to do, somehow he saw me and closed up like a clam. I think now it had something to do with the child."

"By heaven, you are right. I see it all. I had just returned from that house, when I got your note and came up here. I went to the school this morning pretending that I wished to place a child there. Then, after a while, I asked if my friend Mr. Mitchel's daughter, Rose, was not at the school. 'Yes,' replied the woman in charge, 'but she has just left us.' 'Left you,' said I, 'when?' 'About ten minutes ago. Her mother called for her in a carriage and took her away.' Don't you see, whilst you were locked in that room, Miss Remsen went down and removed the child."

"But Miss Remsen is not her mother?"

"No, stupid. Haven't you any sense left at all? Are you going to be a bungler all your life? This comes of your disobedience. You let Mitchel see you in the elevated train, and now you find out how smart you were."

"Nonsense, he never recognized me."

"He did. I was a fool to trust such an important matter to a woman."

"Oh! were you? Well that woman is not such a fool as you think. I have that button back."

"Ah! Good! How did you manage it?"

"They all went to the theatre last night, and I just hunted through Miss Remsen's things till I found it, in one of her jewel-cases. Here it is." Saying which, she handed to the detective the cameo button which he had found in the room where the murder had been committed. He saw that it was the same, and was somewhat comforted to have it back.

"Has Mr. Mitchel made Miss Remsen any present lately?" he asked.

"Yes, he gave her a magnificent ruby last night. Miss Remsen told me that it is worth a fortune, and it looks it."

"How was it set?"

"It is made into a pin to be worn in the hair."

"Well, I have no further use for you at present. Go home, and be sure you keep a still tongue in your head. You have done enough mischief already."

"Haven't I done any good? I think you are very mean."

"Yes, you have done some good. But you will find that in this world one failure counts against three successes. Remember that."

CHAPTER IX.
THE DIARY OF A DETECTIVE

It was the morning of the New Year. Mr. Barnes was seated in an arm-chair by his own fireside at his cosy home on Staten Island. In his hand he held a diary, whose pages he was studying intently. Before peeping over his shoulder to read with him, it will be best to give a slight insight into the state of mind which led him to take up the book on this particular day.

After the clever manner in which he had discovered that a young girl existed, whose name was Rose Mitchel, and who was supposed to be the daughter of Mr. Robert Leroy Mitchel, and after the equally clever trick by which the girl was removed beyond his ken, Mr. Barnes had come to one conclusion. This was, that it was necessary to keep such a strict watch upon Mr. Mitchel, that if he had not already committed the crime, about which he had wagered, he should not be able to do so and avoid detection. For Mr. Barnes began to have some feeling in the matter beyond the mere fulfilment of duty. He was being thwarted by this man at every turn, and this made him doubly determined not to allow him to win that bet. Therefore he had removed Wilson from the post of watching Mr. Mitchel, and had replaced him by two men who were thoroughly skilful. Wilson and another he set to spy upon the movements of Miss Remsen, for he hoped to find the child through her.

Being the first of January, and therefore the last day upon which Mr. Mitchel could commit his crime, within the conditions imposed, always supposing that he had not already done so, Mr. Barnes wished once more to go over the reports sent to him by his various spies, in order that he might be assured that no mistakes had been made.

He began to read at:

"Dec. 15. Mitchel left his hotel early, and went over to Hoffman House. Remained there two hours, and came out accompanied by Thauret. They walked up to the White Elephant, and spent the morning playing billiards. Lunched together at Delmonico café and separated at two o'clock. Mitchel then went to his livery stable and obtained a horse and light wagon. They are his property. Drove slowly along Madison Avenue, and stopped at Thirtieth Street apartment-house. S – .

"No sign of Miss Remsen all morning. She has a new maid. Her girl Sarah returned yesterday, but her mistress refused to take her back. Evidently she recognizes that the girl was bribed to go into the country and to recommend Lucette as her cousin. About 2:30, Mitchel drove up in his light wagon. According to orders, I prepared to follow them, that they might not visit the child, eluding us by driving. Obtained a cab, and was waiting in it as the two turned into Madison Avenue and started up-town. Easily kept them in sight, without exciting suspicion, but learned nothing as they simply drove up through the Park, along St. Nicholas Avenue and home again down the Boulevard and Riverside drive. He remained at the Remsens' till ten o'clock. Then went straight to his hotel. W – .

"Dec. 16. Mitchel spent his morning at his club. Afternoon in his hotel. Evening at Miss Remsen's. S – .

"Miss Remsen and her sister spent the morning shopping. The afternoon paying calls. The evening at home. W – .

"Dec. 17. Mitchel's actions same as yesterday, except that Thauret called on him at his hotel during the afternoon and was with him an hour. S – .

"Miss Remsen, her sister, and two other young ladies went to Brooklyn in the afternoon, but simply visited the large stores there. At home in the evening. W – .

"Dec. 18. Mitchel and Thauret together in the morning. Mitchel and Miss Remsen out walking in afternoon. Mitchel and Thauret at club in the evening. I bribed doorman and succeeded in getting in disguised as one of the servants. Mitchel and Thauret played whist, playing as partners. They lost about a hundred dollars. Went home together. S – .

"Miss Remsen indoors all morning. Out on Fifth Avenue with Mitchel in the afternoon. During their absence Thauret called. W – .

"Dec. 19. Mitchel and Thauret played poker all afternoon in one of the rooms of their club. Both lost. There were four others in the game. One of these won heavily. I have discovered that this is undoubtedly the man who was Thauret's whist partner on the night when Randolph thought that he detected them cheating. He also answers the description of the man who left the jewels at hotel in New Haven. His name is Adrian Fisher. In the evening Mitchel and Thauret were in a box at the opera with the Remsen family. S – .

"The Miss Remsens gave an afternoon tea. Mr. Randolph called and remained to dinner. Went to the opera with the ladies in the evening. W – .

"Dec. 20. Mitchel in his hotel all day. He and Thauret went driving in the afternoon. I followed them in a light wagon. At the road house in the Park, they alighted and had a bottle of wine. Talked together earnestly. Saw Mitchel give Thauret a roll of money. In the evening they played whist as partners at the club, and again they lost. S – .

"No sign of the Miss Remsens till afternoon when a young lady called and the three went to matinee at Daly's. Evening they spent at home. W – .

"Dec. 21. Mitchel attended worship at St. Patrick's Cathedral with the two Miss Remsens. Afternoon remained in his hotel. Evening at the Remsens. S – .

"Miss Remsen and her sister at St. Patrick's Cathedral in the morning. At home the rest of the day. W – .

"According to instructions I have made inquiries about Adrian Fisher. He is a man of good family, but poor. Belongs to two fashionable clubs. Plays cards for money frequently. Is a good player and seems to earn a living off of his friends. Has no relatives living, except a sister who is a cripple. He is very fond of her and treats her with great kindness. It is a mystery how he manages to support her as comfortably as he does. They live together in a small flat at – East Fiftieth Street. It was he who introduced Thauret at the club, and had him made a member. He was out of town from Dec. 1st to Dec. 4th. Q – ."

At this point of his reading Mr. Barnes laid down his book and thought a moment. These questions occurred to him.

"Is this man Fisher the tool of Thauret? He is poor, and a card-player. He is well born and has a sister to support in a style suitable to her birth. Has Thauret induced him to play, that together they may fleece the other members of the club? It looks like it, but why this sudden intimacy with Mitchel? Or is that less sudden than we know, and have they been long acquainted? Again, is Fisher the man who received the satchel from one of these men, and then took it to the hotel in New Haven? He was out of town at the time. Why did he place the satchel in the hotel, and then abandon it? After securing the plunder, why did he thus lose it? Was he suddenly overtaken by his conscience and becoming aware of the fact that Thauret was using him as a tool in a piece of criminal work, did he take this method of clearing himself, and of allowing the jewels to be returned to their owner as soon as found in the hotel? This would account for Thauret's having left the train at Stamford, intending perhaps to return to New Haven and meet his confederate. Fisher, meanwhile, having abandoned the scheme and returned to New York, Thauret was thwarted. But who killed the woman?" Mr. Barnes resumed his reading.

"Dec. 26. Mitchel arose early, and called for Miss Remsen at eleven o'clock. Together they went to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Van Rawlston, at Fifth Avenue near Forty-eighth Street. They remained nearly an hour, and then separated when they came out. Mitchel eat luncheon at the Brunswick, where he was joined by Thauret. They went to the club in the afternoon and played whist. They lost money. Mitchel paid for both, and took an I.O.U. from Thauret for his share. Randolph was in the game. There is a growing coolness between Randolph and Mitchel. They barely speak when they meet. It is evident that no love is lost between Randolph and Thauret. In the evening the three men were in the Remsens' box at the opera. S – .

"Miss Remsen accompanied Mitchel to Mrs. Van Rawlston's in the morning, and left him when they came out. She made several calls mainly upon well-known fashionable society leaders. Something is evidently on the tapis. It occurred to me that the missing child might have been placed in the care of the Van Rawlstons. Therefore in the afternoon I allowed R – to follow the young ladies on a shopping expedition, whilst I interviewed the policeman on the beat. He is acquainted with the Van Rawlston's maid, and will send a report to you to-night. The ladies went to the opera in the evening. W – .

"Mr. and Mrs. Van Rawlston have three children, all younger than fourteen, and only one a girl, the youngest. The Miss Remsen who called was a Miss Emily Remsen. She was accompanied by a Mr. Robert Mitchel. They came to beg Mrs. Van Rawlston to allow a society to which the young lady belongs, to give an entertainment in her house. The entertainment is to be New Year's night. Policeman 1666.

"Dec. 23. Mitchel and Thauret went to a costumer's on Union Square. When they had left I called there and said that I was a friend of Mr. Mitchel's and wished a costume made for the same entertainment. The plan worked, and by adroit questioning I discovered that there is to be an Arabian Night festival on the night of the New Year. It is to be a costume masquerade, and Mitchel has promised to send all of the men to his costumer for their dresses. He ordered an Ali Baba dress. Thauret left no order, saying he would not attend. I ordered an Aladdin costume. If you do not decide to attend I can countermand the order, but I thought you might find it advantageous to be present. With Aladdin's wonderful lamp you might shed some light upon the mystery. Pardon the joke. The afternoon and evening were spent by Mitchel and Thauret at their club. Again they played whist and again they lost. S – .

"The young ladies spent the morning at a fashionable dressmaker's on Madison Avenue. I have picked up an acquaintance with a servant girl who lives in one of the flats in Thirtieth Street house, and from her I learn that Miss Remsen's new maid tells her that the affair at the Van Rawlston house will be a costume masquerade, all parties assuming characters from the Arabian Nights. Miss Emily Remsen will appear as Scheherezade. W – ."

Mr. Barnes turned two pages at this point, evidently considering that nothing of special moment was contained in the reports covering the next few days. He began again.

"Dec. 30. Mr. Mitchel came out of his hotel at ten o'clock, and crossed over to Jersey City, taking an express for Philadelphia. I of course took same train. S – .

"The Miss Remsens were at home all day. They are busy on their costumes for the coming entertainment. W – .

"Dec. 31. Telegram from Philadelphia. 'Mitchel at Lafayette Hotel. Is sick in bed. Doctor in attendance. Sent a telegram to Miss Remsen telling her that he cannot be on hand to-morrow night.' S – .

"Thauret went to Union Square costumer yesterday and obtained the Ali Baba costume ordered for Mitchel. He gave the costumer a letter which he had received from Mitchel, dated at Philadelphia yesterday. It reads: 'Friend Thauret, I am suddenly taken ill. Don't let the Remsens know that it is anything serious. Oblige me, if possible, by attending the Arabian Night festival. I enclose my invitation and a note to Mr. Van Rawlston, which will introduce you. You may wear my costume, and the costumer will give it to you if you present this. You were to have gone out of town I know, but if you wish to do me a favor I hope you will change your plans and take my place. I do not wish Miss Remsen to be entirely unattended. Therefore be with her as much as you can. She will be dressed as Scheherezade.