The Mayor's Wife by Anna Katharine Green


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Page 9

Understand! I eyed her as she again looked my way, with some of
her own curiosity if not wonder.

"Mrs. Packard must have had some very timorous guests," I
observed. "Or, perhaps, you have had experiences here which have
tended to alarm you. The house is so large and imposing for the
quarter it is in I can readily imagine it to attract burglars."

"Burglars! It would be a brave burglar who would try to get in
here. I guess you never heard about this house."

"No," I admitted, unpleasantly divided between a wish to draw her
out and the fear of betraying Mayor Packard's trust in me by
showing the extent of my interest.

"Well, it's only gossip," she laughingly assured me. "You
needn't think of it, Miss. I'm sure you'll be all right. We
girls have been, so far, and Mrs. Packard--"

Here she doubtless heard a voice outside or some summons from
below, for she made a quick start toward the door, remarking in a
different and very pleasant tone of voice:

"Dinner at seven, Miss. There'll be no extra company to-night.
I'm coming." This to some one in the hall as she hastily passed
through the door.

Dropping the bag I had lifted to unpack, I stared at the door
which had softly closed under her hand, then, with an odd
impulse, turned to look at my own face in the glass before which
I chanced to be standing. Did I expect to find there some
evidence of the excitement which this strange conversation might
naturally produce in one already keyed up to an expectation of
the mysterious and unusual? If so, I was not disappointed. My
features certainly betrayed the effect of this unexpected attack
upon my professional equanimity. What did the girl mean? What
was she hinting at? What underlay--what could underlie her
surprising remark, "I guess you never heard about this house"?
Something worth my knowing; something which might explain Mayor
Packard's fears and Mrs. Packard's--

There I stopped. It was where the girl had stopped. She and not
I must round out this uncompleted sentence.

Meanwhile I occupied myself in unpacking my two bags and making
acquaintance with the room which, I felt, was destined to be the
scene of many, anxious thoughts. Its first effect had been a
cheerful one, owing to its two large windows, one looking out on
a stretch of clear sky above a mass of low, huddled buildings,
and the other on the wall of the adjacent house which, though
near enough to obstruct the view, was not near enough to exclude
all light. Another and closer scrutiny of the room did not alter
the first impression. To the advantages of light were added
those of dainty furnishing and an exceptionally pleasing color
scheme. There was no richness anywhere, but an attractive
harmony which gave one an instantaneous feeling of home. From
the little brass bedstead curtained with cretonne, to the tiny
desk filled with everything needful for immediate use, I saw
evidences of the most careful housekeeping, and was vainly asking
myself what could have come into Mrs. Packard's life to disturb
so wholesome a nature, when my attention was arrested by a
picture hanging at the right of the window overlooking the next
house.

It gave promise of being a most interesting sketch, and I crossed
over to examine it; but instead of doing so, found my eyes drawn
toward something more vital than any picture and twice as
enchaining.

It was a face, the face of an old woman staring down at me from a
semicircular opening in the gable of the adjoining house. An
ordinary circumstance in itself, but made extraordinary by the
fixity of her gaze, which was leveled straight on mine, and the
uncommon expression of breathless eagerness which gave force to
her otherwise commonplace features. So remarkable was this
expression and so apparently was it directed against myself, that
I felt like throwing up my window and asking the poor old
creature what I could do for her. But her extreme immobility
deterred me. For all the intentness of her look there was no
invitation in it warranting such an advance on my part. She
simply stared down at me in unbroken anxiety, nor, though I
watched her for some minutes with an intensity equal to her own,
did I detect any change either in her attitude or expression.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Mon 12th Jan 2026, 10:16