Roberts. Can you direct me?” Penelope Rose asked the young man at the apothecary. The day after she received the mysterious missive, she followed the direction in the letter to a storefront in a nicer part of Town. The sign on the door said “Dr. Roberts” and inside there was an apothecary with rows and rows of bottles on the wall behind a smart young man in an apron at the counter.“No Mrs. Roberts here, ma’am. Just a Dr. Roberts.”“Perhaps Dr. Roberts has a wife or a mother?” suggested Penelope.“No, ma’am.”“Are you sure? I received a letter from a Mrs. Roberts and I am looking for her.”“No, ma’am. No missus and both of Dr. Roberts’s parents are deceased, ma’am. God rest their souls.”“Yes, quite so,” answered Penelope absently. This was not the answer she expected. She wanted to find this Mrs. Roberts, but apparently she did not exist.“Can you tell me something of Dr. Roberts? Has he been in practice long?”“Dr. Roberts is a fine gentleman physician, ma’am.
