Chapter 13 The Clue of the Broken Locket by Carolyn Keene
Mistaken Identity
“What are you saying, Nancy?” George demanded.
Nancy started. She had not realized that she was speaking aloud.
“Nothing. I was just mumbling a little to myself.”
Colleen had not heard Nancy’s observation about McNeery or the Blairs. She casually remarked:
“Mr. McNeery doesn’t like children.”
“Why do you say that?” Nancy questioned alertly.
“Oh, you can tell by the way he looks at them. I guess he was pretty mean to his wife, too.”
“Then he is married?”
“He was. I heard Mrs. Blair say that his wife left him because he was so heartless.”
Colleen prepared to wheel the twins into the house. Nancy and her friends recalled that if they were to accomplish anything at Selkirk, they must be on their way soon. They hastily bade good-bye to the nursemaid and drove away.
“Well, our call was worth while,” Nancy commented, as the girls sped down the road. “Every time we visit Jolly Folly we add to our general supply of information.”
“I’m getting hopelessly entangled in clues,” Bess declared. “What do you make of Rodney, Nancy?”
“I think that he seems to be interested in the babies’ welfare instead of their ruination!”
“If we have any luck at the Selkirk Home today, things may clear up a little for us,” Nancy said. “I’m as much interested in the mysterious woman as I am in Rodney.”
It was nearly noon, and the crisp air had given the girls a keen appetite. Glimpsing an attractive little inn by the side of the road, they decided to stop there for luncheon.
One o’clock found them on their way once more, and shortly thereafter they drove into Selkirk. A friendly policeman directed them to the impressive-looking Foundling Home which stood upon a high bluff overlooking the Muskoka River.
“It looks like a nice place,” George commented, surveying the expanse of well-kept lawn. “At least the children have lots of room in which to play.”
The girls walked slowly toward the main entrance.
“Bess and I will wait outside,” George proposed. “The grounds look rather attractive.”
“You won’t need us, anyway,” Bess added.
“I may be in there a long time,” Nancy told them.
“Stay as long as you like,” Bess told her. “We’ll walk about the grounds until you’ve finished your errand.”
Nancy continued along up the walk to the front entrance of the rambling, red brick structure. She caught herself wondering in which of the many wings little Jay and Janet had been housed.
The door was slightly ajar, so she decided to enter. She found herself in a barren, wide hall, immaculately clean. At the far end was a desk at which sat a middle-aged woman in a white uniform. Nancy walked up to her.
“I should like to speak to the matron, if I may,” she said politely.
She was conscious of the attendant’s curious scrutiny.
“Mrs. Roberts is busy at present. I shall tell her you are here.”
After Nancy had given her name, the attendant escorted her to a nearby seat and left the hall. Returning a few minutes later, she busied herself at the desk again. As time passed and no one appeared, Nancy grew impatient.
She was on the verge of speaking to the attendant once more, when the hall door opened.
Nancy arose to meet an efficient-looking woman with kind eyes and snow-white hair. Mrs. Roberts seemed to encompass the situation in one keen glance. She did not give the River Heights girl an opportunity to state her errand.
“I am sorry to have kept you waiting—doubly so, now that I see you are far too young!”
“Too young?” Nancy stammered, not understanding what the matron meant.
“Yes, we must have an older, more experienced person. It would only be a waste of your time and mine for me to interview you.”
Nancy now gathered that she had been mistaken for someone else. With much amusement she recalled the advertisement she had read in the morning paper. The matron thought that she was applying for the position of nurse at the Home.
“I am not looking for work,” Nancy assured her with a smile. “I came to talk to you about an entirely different matter.”
She then introduced herself, explaining that she was the daughter of Carson Drew. The matron was familiar with the name, for the attorney had called upon her a number of times in a legal capacity. She was very profuse in her apologies.
“A girl telephoned this morning saying she was coming here to apply for the position,” the matron explained. “Naturally, when I saw you I thought you were she.”
Mrs. Roberts led the way to her private office at the rear of the building, overlooking the grounds. She listened attentively while Nancy explained that she had come to the Home, hoping to find out something about a woman she thought might be employed in the capacity of nurse.
“What is her name?”
Nancy was forced to admit that she did not know.
“Can you describe her?”
Nancy gave the description which had been told her by Reverend Stafford. At first the matron looked puzzled; then her face lighted up again.
“A musical voice, you say? And she was dark and slender?”
“Yes,” Nancy nodded eagerly. “Does she work here?”
“She did. However, she left our employ a short time ago. A few days, in fact.”
Nancy scarcely could hide her elation. This information coincided perfectly with her theory that the mysterious woman had left the Home when the twins were taken away.
“Then the position you wish to fill here is the one this nurse vacated?” Nancy probed.
“Yes, we were sorry to see her go, for she was one of our most devoted and efficient employees. She loved babies.”
“May I ask why she left?”
“She refused to give her reason. I noted that she seemed distressed about something. Family troubles, more than likely.”
Nancy leaned forward eagerly.
“Tell me, did this take place about the time that the twins were adopted by a family named Blair?”
The question startled Mrs. Roberts.
“Now that I think of it, the change in her manner appeared then. She resigned the very day the twins were taken from our Home!”
Nancy’s eyes danced with excitement. She was ready now to ask the most important question of all.
“Can you tell me the nurse’s name, Mrs. Roberts?”
“Certainly. Ruth Brown.”
Nancy almost leaped from her chair. Her father had said he did not believe that there could be any connection between the twins Reverend Stafford had baptized and Jay and Janet. How justly proud she would be to report this evidence!
Rodney’s last name was Brown, too. Was it mere coincidence, or would something definite evolve from the similarity in names? Then again, the chauffeur might be one of the twins the minister had christened!
At this point in her speculating, Nancy’s face clouded. She recalled that Rodney had been seen talking to the pedlar woman. Had he known that she was his sister, his actions would have betrayed him surely. Was the woman actually the same person who had served as nurse at the Home? The description as to appearance tallied, but other points seemed at variance.
Nancy was becoming submerged in clues.
“I’ll think it all out later,” she told herself. “Just now I must glean every bit of information I can.”
“Miss Brown was devoted to Jay and Janet always,” the matron explained. “I had noticed it, of course, yet it never occurred to me until this moment to connect her resignation with the adoption.”
“Did Miss Brown say anything of her plans when she left here?”
“No, she did not mention where she was going. I can tell you nothing of her family, either.”
Mrs. Roberts frowned slightly.
“As a usual thing, we do not employ persons without asking for a complete record of their experience and background. In Miss Brown’s case we made an exception, for she was a wonderful nurse.”
Obviously the matron had told all that she knew of Ruth Brown, yet Nancy was not ready to leave. She wanted to hear the story of how Jay and Janet had been found.
“They weren’t ‘basket babies’ in the usual sense of the word,” Mrs. Roberts smiled. “They came to us in a far more startling way.”
“By ‘basket babies,’ I suppose you mean those deposited upon doorsteps,” Nancy remarked.
“Yes, a great many children come to us in that way. The doorbell rings. A nurse answers it, only to find a basket deposited on the doorstep with a note attached to it. Usually it reads, ‘Please be good to my baby.’ ”
“And do the mothers ever come back for them?”
“Occasionally. But more often they do not. Poor things! Usually they have no money with which to support a child, and nothing to offer it.”
The matron lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Nancy probed her gently by saying:
“You were speaking of the twins.”
“Oh, yes, their case is different, I feel sure. They were found shortly after a storm—one of the worst we have ever experienced in this locality. The children came to us not in a basket, but in a boat!”
“A boat! How strange!”
“Yes, they were picked up by some young woman and brought here. We have kept them ever since.”
“Where were the babies found?” Nancy persisted.
“Floating in a boat at the river’s edge, as far as we can figure out. I’ve forgotten the details of the story—they were minor.”
Nancy inwardly disagreed as to the details being of minor import.
“During the time that the twins were in your care, did the mother ever communicate with you?”
“Never. At first I thought that the parents might be located, but they failed to appear.”
Mrs. Roberts glanced at the wall clock somewhat pointedly. She was a very busy person, already having devoted more time to the interview than she should have.
“Just one thing more,” Nancy said quickly as the matron arose. “May I see the records pertaining to the twins?”
The request was not to Mrs. Roberts’ liking. She had very little time, and it was a rule of the Home never to open the books of record to casual visitors.
“It’s really quite irregular, Miss Drew,” she said.
“It means everything to me to see the entries,” Nancy told her earnestly. “I am trying to trace the children’s parentage.”
The matron debated the matter a moment.
“Very well, you may see the records, though I assure you it will be a waste of time on your part.”
Mrs. Roberts rang a small bell on her desk. When an attendant appeared, she ordered that the book under discussion be brought to her office.
“I am sorry I cannot take the time to aid you in finding the particulars you desire, Miss Drew,” she said regretfully. “I must inspect the wards before dinner. I am late now.”
Nancy thanked her for the assistance she had given, and surveyed the huge book spread out on the desk before her.
Items were made by date, she noted. By computing the age of the twins, she was able to guess within a few weeks of the day they had been brought to the Selkirk Home. She thumbed over innumerable pages without result.
Then, as she was beginning to despair of ever finding the notation she was seeking, she saw it standing out before her eyes.
“Twin babies, found on Muskoka River in a boat by Miss Brown.”
“Does it mean Ruth Brown, I wonder?” she reflected. “This is the most important revelation yet! I must ask the matron about it.”
She closed the huge book with a snap, and arose. Moving past the window, she suddenly paused, transfixed.
A slender, dark woman with a heavy suitcase was hurrying down the walk, leaving the grounds by the back way. She wore a gray suit and a black felt hat with a red quill. It was Ruth Brown!