Maids of Misfortune by M. Louisa Locke

ten, he pulled my hair and I kicked him in the shins during some sort of musicale. There was a large lady singing very shrilly, and Jeremy and I were both bored."
    Mrs. Stein inserted here, "Yes, I remember. He howled, and you stuck your tongue out at him! I was mortified that I was raising up such a young rapscallion!"
    Annie found the image of Hetty in a scrape with young Jeremy Voss rather amusing, and for the first time, she could imagine liking the young woman.
    Hetty continued, "He disappeared into some boarding school for a number of years, and I only saw him every so often during the summers. Then he simply vanished from San Francisco society."
    Mrs. Stein again interrupted. "He attended college back east, and I believe that he spent every summer abroad."
    “Well, all I know is that two years ago he reappeared and took all the girls by storm. He had turned into a terribly interesting young man, very sophisticated, not at all rough like most of our California boys. An artist, you know. Very sensitive. He writes poetry, and he is forever threatening to kill himself or someone else in a duel for love."
    "Now, Hetty," said Mrs. Stein.
    "No, Mother, it's true. I remember not long before my George proposed to me; he heard some silly rumor that Jeremy had written me a sonnet. George was simply furious. But I told George that any girl would be a fool to prefer a man like Jeremy, always talking so extravagantly but never doing anything, to a man like him. George might not have much to say, but at least he's a real doer."
    Annie noticed that Mr. Stein, who had been silently listening to the conversation, smiled briefly at this remark, and she suspected Hetty was probably quoting her father here. Annie wondered what he thought about Matthew's death. Perhaps he could help her convince Mr. Dawson and his uncle that Matthew's death couldn't possibly be the result of suicide.
    The carriage arrived at the cemetery just then, halting all conversation while everyone disembarked and made their way up a short hill. Normally, a funeral for a man of Matthew Voss’s status would have been a larger, more elaborate affair, with notices in the paper, a viewing, and some sort of ceremony in the church. However, Mrs. Voss had evidently requested that there only be the short ritual at the gravesite, and no public notices had been made of the time or place. As a result, only a small number of the family's friends and Matthew Voss’s business acquaintances were in attendance.
    The gravesite was nestled in a little hollow that had captured tiny wisps of the early morning mist and swirled them around the feet of the small group representing Matthew Voss’s family, who stood to one side of the casket. The other mourners stood just a short distance away on the sunnier slopes across from the family. Annie, standing with the Steins, had a very good view of all that was going on. The sound of seagulls and the sharp tang of the sea air wafted in on the cool morning air; she took deep breaths, feeling her tiredness ease. Looking around her, she decided coming to the funeral was not such a bad idea. After all, experience as Sibyl had taught her to read faces and divine information from how people held themselves or related to each other. The important people in Matthew's life now stood before her, open for her scrutiny.
    Annie easily recognized Matthew's son, Jeremy, from Hetty's description. With his height, black curly hair that tumbled over his forehead, dashing mustache, and furrowed brow, he reminded her of some brooding hero from a Gothic novel. She had not been surprised by Hetty's portrayal of Jeremy, which fit the image she had already developed from her talks with Matthew. Annie knew, for example, that the summers abroad, when Jeremy evidently spent his time traveling, writing poetry, and painting, had been a source of contention between the father and son. She also knew, when his company had encountered financial difficulties a few years ago,