Murder in Morningside Heights (A Gaslight Mystery) by Victoria Thompson Read Free Book Online Page A

situation reflectedback, and neither of them would be able to keep their composure.
    The maid had come running at the urgency of Miss Wilson’s summons, but she stopped dead when she saw Miss Billingsly sitting on the floor with their guests hovering over her.
    “Bathsheba, Miss Billingsly is ill. Would you help her back upstairs, please?”
    “Excuse me, ma’am,” Bathsheba said, shouldering Sarah out of the way so she could help Miss Billingsly to her feet.
    “I fell down,” Miss Billingsly told her with a drunkard’s honesty.
    “That’s all right. You come with me now.”
    Bathsheba put her arm around Miss Billingsly’s waist and led her from the room, but Miss Billingsly stopped when they reached the doorway and turned back to Miss Wilson.
    “I’m sorry, Georgia. I didn’t mean to—”
    “That’s all right,” Miss Wilson said, cutting her off. “Go with Bathsheba now.”
    Miss Billingsly nodded and allowed herself to be taken away.
    When their footsteps had receded up the stairs, Miss Wilson said, “I apologize. Abigail’s death has upset her terribly.”
    Sarah wondered if Miss Billingsly drank regularly or if this was something new. “That’s understandable,” Sarah said, taking her seat beside Malloy on the sofa again. “Will she be all right, do you think?”
    “Bathsheba will look after her, although we’ll have to wait awhile for our coffee, I’m afraid. You were asking me about Abigail.”
    “Yes.” Sarah tried to remember exactly where they were and realized she had learned precious little before being interrupted. “You said she was an excellent student. I suppose that’s why Mr. Hatch hired her as a teacher.”
    “Of course it was.”
    “Was that common?” Malloy asked. “Hiring your students as teachers?”
    “Not at all. Every graduate of the Normal School is a teacher, Mr. Malloy. If we hired even a few from every class, we’d very soon have more teachers than students.”
    “And you must have outstanding students in every class,” Sarah guessed. “What set Abigail apart enough to be hired?”
    Miss Wilson hesitated, making Sarah wonder if she was trying to decide whether to tell the truth or not. But maybe she was just trying to phrase her answer diplomatically. “As I said, Abigail was an excellent student, but more than that, she was naturally an excellent teacher. Not everyone is, even with training. But that alone would not have given her a place at the Normal School, since we pride ourselves on producing excellent teachers. She also happened to have excelled in French, and Professor Pelletier needed an assistant.”
    “Was it his idea to hire her?” Malloy asked.
    Miss Wilson seemed annoyed by the question. “He agreed to accept her, if that’s what you mean, but President Hatch makes the final decisions.”
    “And whose idea was it to make you the first female professor?” Malloy asked, surprising Sarah and annoying Miss Wilson even more.
    “As I just said, President Hatch makes the final decisions.”
    Malloy pretended to think this over for a minute. “It just seems funny to me that a college for women didn’t have any female professors for the first twenty-some years.”
    “How very progressive of you, Mr. Malloy. I couldn’t agree more.”
    “Was Professor Pelletier happy with Miss Northrup’s work?” Sarah asked, thinking they should get back on the subject they came to discuss. Malloy wasn’t as progressive asall that, after all, and she didn’t think Miss Wilson needed to know it.
    “You’ll have to ask him. He does not confide in me.”
    Sarah wondered if that meant the good professor
wasn’t
pleased with Miss Northrup, and Miss Wilson didn’t want to say so. “How did you come to have Miss Northrup boarding with you?”
    Another brief hesitation. “She needed a place to live, and as a young, single female, her options were limited. It’s customary for the female staff at the school to share living quarters in any case. For