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Page 10
"Odd," thought I, and tested her with a friendly bow. The
demonstration failed to produce the least impression. "A most
uncanny neighbor," was my mental comment on finally turning away.
Truly I was surrounded by mysteries, but fortunately this was one
with which I had no immediate concern. It did not take me long to
put away my few belongings and prepare for dinner. When quite
ready, I sat down to write a letter. This completed, I turned to
go downstairs. But before leaving the room I cast another look
up at my neighbor's attic window. The old woman was still there.
As our glances met I experienced a thrill which was hardly one of
sympathy, yet was not exactly one of fear. My impulse was to
pull down the shade between us, but I had not the heart. She was
so old, so feeble and so, evidently the prey of some strange and
fixed idea. What idea? It was not for me to say, but I found it
impossible to make any move which would seem to shut her out; so
I left the shade up; but her image followed me and I forgot it
only when confronted once again with Mrs. Packard.
That lady was awaiting me at the dining-room door. She had
succeeded in throwing off her secret depression and smiled quite
naturally as I approached. Her easy, courteous manners became
her wonderfully. I immediately recognized how much there was to
admire in our mayor's wife, and quite understood his relief when,
a few minutes later, we sat at table and conversation began.
Mrs. Packard, when free and light-hearted, was a delightful
companion and the meal passed off cheerily. When we rose and the
mayor left us for some necessary business it was with a look of
satisfaction in my direction which was the best possible
preparation for my approaching tete-a-tete with his moody and
incomprehensible wife.
But I was not destined to undergo the contemplated ordeal this
evening. Guests were announced whom Mrs. Packard kindly invited
me to meet, but I begged to be allowed to enjoy the library. I
had too much to consider just now, to find any pleasure in
society. Three questions filled my mind.
What was Mrs. Packard's secret trouble?
Why were people afraid to remain in this house?
Why did the old woman next door show such interest in the new
member of her neighbor's household?
Would a single answer cover all? Was there but one cause for
each and every one of these peculiarities? Probably, and it was
my duty to ferret out this cause. But how should I begin? I
remembered what I had read about detectives and their methods,
but the help I thus received was small. Subtler methods were
demanded here and subtler methods I must find. Meantime, I would
hope for another talk with Mayor Packard. He might clear up some
of this fog. At least, I should like to give him the
opportunity. But I saw no way of reaching him at present. Even
Mrs. Packard did not feel at liberty to disturb him in his study.
I must wait for his reappearance, and in the meantime divert
myself as best I could. I caught up a magazine, but speedily
dropped it to cast a quick glance around the room. Had I heard
anything? No. The house was perfectly still, save for the sound
of conversation in the drawing-room. Yet I found it hard to keep
my eyes upon the page. Quite without my volition they flew,
first to one corner, then to another. The room was light, there
were no shadowy nooks in it, yet I felt an irresistible desire to
peer into every place not directly under my eye. I knew it to be
folly, and, after succumbing to the temptation of taking a sly
look behind a certain tall screen, I resolutely set myself to
curb my restlessness and to peruse in good earnest the article I
had begun. To make sure of myself, I articulated each word
aloud, and to my exceeding satisfaction had reached the second
column when I found my voice trailing off into silence, and every
sense alarmingly alert. Yet there was nothing, absolutely
nothing in this well-lighted, cozy family-room to awaken fear. I
was sure of this the next minute, and felt correspondingly
irritated with myself and deeply humiliated. That my nerves
should play me such a trick at the very outset of my business in
this house! That I could not be left alone, with life in every
part of the house, and the sound of the piano and cheerful
talking just across the hall, without the sense of the morbid and
unearthly entering my matter-of-fact brain!
Uttering an ejaculation of contempt, I reseated myself. The
impulse came again to look behind me, but I mastered it this time
without too great an effort. I already knew every feature of the
room: its old-fashioned mantel, large round center-table, its
couches and chairs, and why should I waste my attention again
upon them?
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