THE MAYOR'S WIFE

by Anna Katherine Green

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I.   A SPY'S DUTY

CHAPTER II.   QUESTIONS

CHAPTER III.   IN THE GABLE WINDOW

CHAPTER IV.   LIGHTS—SOUNDS

CHAPTER V.   THE STRANGE NEIGHBORS NEXT DOOR

CHAPTER VI.   AT THE STAIR-HEAD

CHAPTER VII.   A MOVING SHADOW

CHAPTER VIII.   THE PARAGRAPH

CHAPTER IX.   SCRAPS

CHAPTER X.   A GLIMMER OF THE TRUTH

CHAPTER XI.   BESS

CHAPTER XII.   SEARCHINGS

CHAPTER XIII.   A DISCOVERY

CHAPTER XIV.   I SEEK HELP

CHAPTER XV.   HARDLY A COINCIDENCE

CHAPTER XVI.   IN THE LIBRARY

CHAPTER XVII.   THE TWO WEIRD SISTERS

CHAPTER XVIII.   THE MORNING NEWS

CHAPTER XIX.   THE CRY FROM THE STAIRS

CHAPTER XX.   EXPLANATION

CHAPTER XXI.   THE CIPHER

CHAPTER XXII.   MERCY

CHAPTER XXIII.   THE WIFE'S TALE

CHAPTER XXIV.   THE SINS OF THE FATHERS

CHAPTER XXV.   THE FINGER ON THE WALL

CHAPTER XXVI.   "BITTER AS THE GRAVE"

CHAPTER XXVII.   A CHILD'S PLAYTHINGS

CHAPTER XXVIII.     RESTITUTION

CHAPTER I. A SPY'S DUTY

I am not without self-control, yet when Miss Davies entered the room with that air of importance she invariably assumes when she has an unusually fine position to offer, I could not hide all traces of my anxiety.

I needed a position, needed it badly, while the others—

But her eyes are on our faces, she is scanning us all with that close and calculating gaze which lets nothing escape. She has passed me by—my heart goes down, down—when suddenly her look returns and she singles me out.

"Miss Saunders." Then, "I have a word to say to you."

There is a rustle about me; five disappointed girls sink back into their seats as I quickly rise and follow Miss Davies out.

In the hall she faced me with these words:

"You are discreet, and you evidently desire a position. You will find a gentleman in my sitting-room. If you come to terms with him, well and good. If not, I shall expect you to forget all about him and his errand the moment you leave his presence. You understand me?"

"I think so," I replied, meeting her steady look with one equally composed. Part of my strength—and I think I have some strength—lies in the fact that I am quietest when most deeply roused. "I am not to talk whatever the outcome."

"Not even to me," she emphasized.

Stirred still further and therefore outwardly even more calm than before, I stopped her as she was moving on and ventured a single query.

"This position—involving secrecy—is it one you would advise me to take, even if I did not stand in need of it so badly?"

"Yes. The difficulties will not be great to a discreet person. It is a first-class opportunity for a young woman as experienced as yourself."

"Thank you," was my abrupt but grateful rejoinder; and, obeying her silent gesture, I opened the door of the sitting-room and passed in. A gentleman standing at one of the windows turned quickly at the sound of my step and came forward. Instantly whatever doubt I may have felt concerning the nature of the work about to be proposed to me yielded to the certainty that, however much it might involve of the strange and difficult, the man whose mission it was to seek my aid was one to inspire confidence and respect.

He was also a