Ch. 10: Jennie Assists in Searching for Herself

Next day Jennie Baxter drove to the address the editor had given her, and she found Mr. Cadbury Taylor at home, in somewhat sumptuous offices on the first floor. Fastened to his door was a brass plate, which exposed to public view the carven words--

CADBURY TAYLOR, Private Enquiry Agent.

The detective was quite evidently very glad to see her.

"I intended calling to-day at the office of the Bugle on the chance of finding you," he said; "but I am delighted to meet you here, because we can talk without fear of interruption. Has the editor told you anything of this case?"

"Very little; he didn't seem to know much about it himself."

"It was impossible for me to go into full particulars with him. I could only give him a hint or two in order to convey to him some idea of the interest which the mystery, when solved, might have from a newspaper standpoint. Of course I wished to gain his assistance so that he might, perhaps, persuade you to help me in this matter."

"He seems to be quite willing that I should lend what aid I can," said Jennie; "but I must have full details before I promise. I have a good deal of work on hand, and, unless this case is interesting from a newspaper point of view, as you have just said, I don't think that I should care to touch it."

"Oh, you will find it of great interest," the detective assured her with much eagerness. "It relates to the sudden and hitherto unexplained disappearance of a woman. That of itself is absorbing, for I may tell you, as one having a large experience, that there is nothing more difficult in this world than for any person, and more especially for a woman, to disappear entirely and leave no trace behind."

"I should have thought it quite easy," said Jennie, "especially in a large city like London."

"You have given expression to the universal opinion, but I pledge you my word that a completely successful disappearance is one of the most rare events that we detectives have to meet with in our line of investigation."

"Please tell me the story," said the girl; "then we can speak more understandingly about it."

The detective selected a packet of papers, one of many which occupied the end of his table. He slipped from it a rubber band which held the documents together.

"The first act of the drama, if we may call it so, began at the Duchess of Chiselhurst's ball."

"The Duchess of Chiselhurst's ball!" echoed Jennie, with a shudder. "Oh, dear!"

The detective looked up at her.

"Why do you say 'Oh, dear'?" he asked.

"Because," said the girl wearily, "I am tired hearing of the Duchess of Chiselhurst's ball; there seems to have been nothing else in the papers for