Mrs. Packard’s eyes opened in wonder mingled with some emotion deeper than distaste, but she said nothing, only watched in a fascinated way his moving fingers. The mayor, mollified possibly by his secretary’s last words, sank back again in his chair with the remark: “You have heard Mrs. Packard’s distinct denial. You are consequently armed for battle. See that you fight well. It is all a part of the scheme to break me up. One more paragraph of that kind and I shall be a wreck, even if my campaign is not.” “There will not be any more.” “Ah! you can assure me of that?” “Positively.” “What are you playing there?” It was Mrs. Packard who spoke. She was pointing at the scribble he was making on the paper. “Tit-tat-to,” he smiled, “to amuse the baby.” Did she hate to see him so occupied, or was her own restlessness of a nature demanding a like outlet? Tearing her eyes away from him and the child, she looked about her in a wild way, till she came upon a box of matches standing on the large center-table around which they were all grouped. Taking some in her hand, she commenced to lay them out on the table before her, possibly in an attempt to attract the baby’s attention to herself. Puerile business, but it struck me forcibly, possibly from the effect it appeared to have upon the mayor. Looking from one to the other in an astonishment which was not without its hint of some new and overmastering feeling on his own part, he remarked: “Isn’t it time for the baby to go to bed? Surely, our talk is too serious to be interrupted by games to please a child.” Without a word Mr. Steele rose and put the protesting child in the mother’s arms. She, rising, carried it to the door, and, coming slowly back, reseated herself before the table and began to push the matches about again with fingers that trembled beyond her control. The mayor proceeded as if no time had elapsed since his last words. “You had some words then with this Brainard--I think you called him Brainard--exacted some promise from him?” “Yes, your Honor,” was the only reply. Did not Mrs. Packard speak, too? We all seemed to think so, for we turned toward her; but she gave no evidence of having said anything, though an increased nervousness was visible in her fingers as she pushed the matches about. “I thought I was warranted in doing so much,” continued Mr. Steele. “I could not buy the man with money, so I used threats.” “Right! anything to squelch him,” exclaimed the mayor, but not with the vigor I expected from him. Some doubt, some dread--caught perhaps from his wife’s attitude or expression--seemed to interpose between his indignation and the object of it. “You are our good friend, Steele, in spite of the shock you gave us a moment ago.” As no answer was made to this beyond a smile too subtle and too fine to be understood by his openhearted chief, the mayor proceeded to declare: