The Family Way (Molly Murphy, #12)

“Not until we have the vote,” Sid said. “But Molly hasn’t finished her story yet. So you found the poor girl hiding her shame with the nuns, did you?”


“That’s just it,” I said. “This is where the plot thickens. I found that she had indeed been with the nuns and given birth to a child. She was supposed to return to the service of Mrs. Mainwaring who had generously said she’d have her back, but she never showed up. And the nuns said she ran off one morning without saying good-bye.”

“Perhaps she didn’t want to return to a place where they knew of her downfall,” Gus said. “She had unhappy memories. So she went to try her luck in the big city where nobody knew her.”

“Either that or the child’s father showed up and whisked her away,” I suggested.

“Do we have any idea who the child’s father might have been?”

I shook my head. “She wouldn’t tell Mrs. Mainwaring or the nuns. But they seemed to think that he couldn’t or wouldn’t marry her.”

“So she escaped from the nuns as soon as possible, did she?” Sid said. “A girl after my own heart. I wouldn’t want to be cooped up with a lot of old women.”

“You’ll find it hard to track her down now, Molly,” Gus said. “My bet is that she went back to New York and got a job there.”

“I hope it’s as simple as that,” I said, “because there is something worrying about her disappearance. One of the other girls who is staying at the convent said that Maureen left some prized possessions behind—a statue of Our Lady carved by her grandfather and her tortoiseshell hairbrush. So now I’m intrigued. What would make her rush off in such a hurry that she left her hairbrush behind, or her prized statue?”

“She saw a chance to escape and took it?” Gus suggested.

“But she was due to leave the convent any day. She had no need to escape.”

“Maybe she wanted to get away before the Mainwarings came to collect her and she was taken back to them,” Gus suggested.

“She could always have run away from them at her leisure.”

“That is a mystery,” Sid said, “but I can’t for the life of me see how you’d solve it.”

“There are a couple of avenues I’d like to pursue, now that I’m here,” I said. “The girl I spoke with mentioned a friend Maureen had had while she was at the convent. This girl has left the convent and gone home to Cortland, so I understand. I thought Maureen might have confided her plans to another girl there. If you are planning something daring you usually like to sound out your idea to someone else, don’t you?”

“It depends if she was the secretive type or not,” Sid said. “And if she was worried that the other person might spill the beans to one of the nuns.”

“There aren’t any other girls at the convent who were close to Maureen then?” Gus asked.

“The nuns I spoke with weren’t entirely welcoming and seemed reluctant to let me speak to any of the girls. I was told there were no girls still there who knew Maureen. They don’t stay long. The nuns turf them out as soon as they are recovered from the birth. They only have a certain number of beds and more girls waiting for them than they can ever accommodate.”

“I’m sure of that,” Sid said. “A place like that would even be in demand for girls from good families who behave foolishly and find themselves pregnant. And their families would probably pay well for the privilege.”

“I don’t think good families would send their daughters to that convent,” I said. “It looked awfully bleak and forbidding.”

“So your plan is to go to Cortland and speak with the one girl who did know Maureen?” Sid asked.

“It is.”

“Where exactly is Cortland? The name is familiar but I can’t quite place it.”

“You remember,” Sid said. “It’s the stop before Peekskill on the train, isn’t it? We used to count the stations because we couldn’t wait to get back to Vassar.”

“Oh, yes,” Gus said. “You’re right, as usual. So not too far then. Only half an hour by train at the most.”

“Then we’ll come with you, Molly,” Sid said. “We love any excuse for a little jaunt.”

Oh, dear. Much as I loved my friends, having them along when I was trying to do my work was always a liability. They had never had to work and were inclined to treat any assignment as a big game. But I couldn’t say no. Besides, when Bridie related our escapades to Mrs. Sullivan a trip up the river together would sound harmless—and I could claim the young woman we went to visit was a friend of my friends.

“Wonderful,” I said. “I’d enjoy the company.”

“We can check on train times when we go home for lunch,” Gus said. “How long do you have, Molly? Do you have to get back to your mother-in-law’s by nightfall?”

“No, I’ve taken a room at the inn where you are staying. I told Mrs. Sullivan that I’d be joining you for a few days. So I’m free to do what I want.”