It was not likely.

It was not in ordinary human nature to keep up so unremitting a watch.

Yet as the shade flew up at my touch I realized that my astonishment would have been great and my expectations altogether disappointed if I had not encountered the fixed countenance and the set stare with which I had come to connect this solitary window.

Miss Charity was there, and, though I now knew what underlay her senile, if not utterly mad watch, the impression made upon me by her hopeless countenance was as keen as it had ever been, and lent point and impetus to the task I had just set for myself.
It was apparent that Mrs.Packard had forgotten or changed her mind about joining me in her own room, but nevertheless I went out, to discover what possible duties she might have laid out for me.
Ascertaining from Ellen that Mrs.Packard had engagements which would take her out at noon, I waited for that hour to pass, then excused myself and went out also.
The owner of the house whose shaded history I was now determined to learn was John Searles, a real estate agent.

To his office in Main Street I at once proceeded, not without doubts and much inward trepidation, but buoyed up by the assurance of Mayor Packard's approval of any attempt, however far-fetched or unpromising, which held out the least possibility of relieving Mrs.Packard from her superstitious fears and restoring the peace and happiness of the household.