At last she was able to think.

She had left Miss Perkins busy with her needle and cotton, and she noticed with surprise that the clothes were gone.
With a sudden suspicion she went into the bedroom with the candle, and looked in the wardrobe made out of six yards of cretonne.

The black cashmere dress, the fur tippet, and the box containing the toque with jet trimmings were gone! She shrank from the truth, and, candle in hand, examined every room, searching the most unlikely corners for the missing articles.

She came back and, taking the note pinned to the table, stared at it with intense curiosity.

What did these black scratches mean?
For the first time in her life she wished she were scholar enough to read.