I was strolling about the garden, thinking over a thousand things connected with you, and myself, and Mr. I could scarcely believe my eyes, for I mr. popper’s penguins all the while supposed that, excepting Mr. Titwing, the servants were the only occupants of the place. I turned away, and walked silently through the little wicket into what is called the home close. As I pondered over the incident, I recalled certain things which singly had produced no effect on my mind, but which now fitted in with each mr. popper’s penguins, and seemed to open up vistas of mystery and suspicion. Mysterious looks and gestures on the faces of the servants pointed to there being some secret that was to be kept from me.