I wished that more had been told me about the handsome secretary. I wished that fate would give me another opportunity for seeing that gentleman and putting the same direct question to him I had put to Nixon. Scarcely had this thought crossed my mind before a loud ring at the telephone disturbed the quiet below and I heard the secretary’s voice in reply. A minute after he appeared at the foot of the stairs. His aspect was one of embarrassment, and he peered aloft in a hesitating way, as if he hardly knew how to proceed. Taking advantage of this hesitation, I ran softly down to meet him. “Any message for Mrs. Packard?” I asked. He looked relieved. “Yes, from his Honor. The mayor is unavoidably detained and may not be home till morning.” “I will tell her.” Then, as he reached for his overcoat, I risked all on one venture, and enlarging a little on the facts, said: “Excuse me, but was it you we heard laughing down-stairs a few minutes ago? Mrs. Packard feared it might be some follower of the girls’.” Pausing in the act of putting on his coat, he met my look with an air of some surprise. “I am not given to laughing,” he remarked; “certainly not when alone.” “But you heard this laugh?” He shook his head. His manner was perfectly courteous, almost cordial. “If I did, it made no impression on my mind. I am extremely busy just now, working up the mayor’s next speech.” And with a smile and bow in every way suited to his fine appearance, he took his hat from the rack and left the house. I drew back more mystified than ever. Which of these two men had told me a lie? One, both, or neither? Impossible to determine. As I try never to waste gray matter, I resolved to spend no further energy on this question, but simply to await the next development. It came unexpectedly and was of an entirely different nature from any I had anticipated. I had not retired, not knowing at what moment the mayor might return or what I might be called upon to do when he did. It will be remembered that one of my windows looked out upon the next house. I approached it to see if my ever watchful neighbors had retired. Their window was dark, but I observed what was of much more vital interest to me at that moment. It was that I was not the only one awake and stirring in our house. The light from a room diagonally below me poured in a stream on the opposite wall, and it took but a moment’s consideration for me to decide that the shadow I saw crossing and recrossing this brilliant square was cast by Mrs. Packard. My first impulse was to draw back--(that was the lady’s impulse not quite crushed out of me by the occupation circumstances had compelled me to take up)--my next, to put out my own light and seat myself at the post of observation thus afforded me. The excuse I gave myself for this was plausible enough. Mrs. Packard had been placed in my charge and, if all was not right with her, it was my business to know it.