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<h2> CHAPTER XIX. THE CRY FROM THE STAIRS </h2>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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 moved along
the stair-rail.</p>
<p>His was not an open nature at the best. I almost forgot the importance of
his errand in watching the man himself. Had he not been a servant—but
he was, and an old and foolishly fussy one. I would not imagine follies,
only I wished I could follow him into Mrs. Packard’s presence.</p>
<p>His stay, however, was too short for much to have been gained thereby.
Almost immediately he reappeared, shaking his head and looking very much
disturbed, and I was watching his pottering descent when he was startled,
and I was startled, by two cries which rang out simultaneously from above,
one of pain and distress from the room he had just left, and one
expressive of the utmost glee from the lips of the baby whom the nursemaid
was bringing down from the upper hall.</p>
<p>Appalled by the anguish expressed in the mother’s cry, I was bounding
up-stairs when my course was stopped by one of the most poignant sights it
has ever been my lot to witness. Mrs. Packard had heard her child’s laugh,
and flying from her room had met the little one on the threshold of her
door and now, crying and sobbing, was kneeling with the child in her arms
in the open space at the top of the stairs. Her paroxysm of grief, wild
and unconstrained as it was, gave less hint of madness than of intolerable
suffering.</p>
<p>Wondering at an abandonment which bespoke a grief too great for all
further concealment, I glanced again at Nixon. He had paused in the middle
of the staircase and was looking back in a dubious way denoting
hesitation. But as the full force of the tragic scene above made itself
felt in his slow mind, he showed a disposition to escape and tremblingly
continued his descent. He was nearly upon me when he caught my eye. A
glare awoke in his, and seeing his right arm rise threateningly, I thought
he would certainly strike me. But he slid by without doing so.</p>
<p>What did it mean? Oh, what did it all mean?</p>
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