or has been precipitated from
her proud preeminence as a leader of fashion, how many women,
known and admired to-day, could stand the test of such an inquiry
as she was subjected to? We know one at least, high in position
and aiming at a higher, who, if the merciful veil were withdrawn
which protects the secrets of the heart, would show such a dark
spot in her life, that even the aegis of the greatest power in
the state would be powerless to shield her from the indignation
of those who now speak loudest in her praise.

"A lie!" burst in vehement protest from Mrs. Packard, as I finished. "A
lie like the rest! But oh, the shame of it! a shame that will kill me."
Then suddenly and with a kind of cold horror: "It is this which
has destroyed my social prestige in town. I understand those nine
declinations now. Henry! my poor Henry!"

There was little comfort to offer, but I tried to divert her mind to the
practical aspect of the case by saying:

"What can Mr. Steele be doing? He does not seem to be very successful
in his attempts to carry out the mayor's orders. See! your husband asks
where he is. He can mean no other by the words 'Where is S--?' He knew
that your mind would supply the name."

"Yes."

Her eyes had become fixed; her whole face betrayed a settled despair.
Quickly, violently, she rang the bell.

Nixon appeared.

She advanced hurriedly to meet him.

"Nixon, you have Mr. Steele's address?"

"Yes, Mrs. Packard."

"Then go to it at once. Find Mr. Steele if you can, but if that is not
possible, learn where he has gone and come right back and tell me. Mr.
Packard telegraphs to know where he is. He has not joined the mayor in
C---."

"Yes, Mrs. Packard; the house is not far. I shall be back in fifteen
minutes."

The words were respectful, but the sly glint in his blinking eyes as
he hastened out fixed my thoughts again on this man and the uncommon
attitude he maintained toward the mistress whose behests he nevertheless
flew to obey.

CHAPTER XIX. THE CRY FROM THE STAIRS

I was alone in the library when Nixon returned. He must have seen Mrs.
Packard go up before he left, for he passed by without stopping, and the
next moment I heard his foot on the stairs.

Some impulse made me step into the hall and cast a glance at his
ascending figure. I could see only his back, but there was something
which I did not like in the curve of that back and the slide of his hand
as it move