The girl decided she must ascertain as adroitly as possible the truth of Mrs. Eden’s claims. If the poor lady was truly in terrible danger, then Veronica resolved to do her best to assist Mrs. Eden. Should the danger prove imaginary, however, Veronica would need to use every ounce of her considerable tact. Adversity had tempered the girl with a maturity beyond her years.

Veronica spoke gently to the woman. “What is the source of your danger, Mrs. Eden? And why do you dare not leave the house? Does the danger come from without?”

A small moan escaped Mrs. Eden’s quivering lips. “Oh, Miss Derivale! Dare I trust you? I feel so alone, betrayed by those who should instead tend to my well-being.” She gazed hopefully into Veronica’s eyes.

Veronica knew she must gain Mrs. Eden’s trust if she were to be able to help her. Therefore she decided to make a bold move and declare her true identity. “You are under a misapprehension, Mrs. Eden, one I did not bother to correct until now. I am not Miss Derivale, whoever she may be. I am Veronica Thane, and I happened upon this house when I needed refuge from the storm.”

“Veronica Thane,” Mrs. Eden gasped. She gazed more intently into her guest’s eyes. “I believe I have heard of you. Were you not the girl who aided Mrs. Finison Webster in tracking down her lost jewels?”

“Yes, I was able to assist Mrs. Webster,” Veronica replied modestly.

“Then I will trust you,” Mrs. Eden said impulsively, her hands clutching at Veronica’s. “I need a friend so desperately, and there is none in this accursed house.”

Unbeknownst to the two conferring on the chaise longue, there was a secret listening post, constructed in the days of the War Between the States, when Spellwood Mansion was the home of a notorious Confederate spy. As Veronica and Mrs. Eden talked, an unseen presence listened to every word spoken between them.

“Veronica Thane.” The listener barely whispered the name. Recognizing the threat implicit in the girl’s true identity, the listener stole softly away to make certain nefarious preparations. The girl must be dealt with, and at once!

“Tell me, Mrs. Eden, the source of the danger,” Veronica urged once again.

I turned the page, thinking I remembered the sad tale of Mrs. Eden’s situation, but my cell phone interrupted my reading. Mrs. Eden and Veronica would have to wait, because I recognized the public library’s main number.

Bronwyn barely waited for me to say “Hello” before she spoke. “Sorry to bother you, Charlie, but I wondered when you were going to bring the books you promised me for the exhibit. I don’t have to have them today, unless you just happen to be out and about this afternoon. Monday morning would be fine.”