TEE SILVER FOX 41 



his whip to the reins, and climbing on to 

 the fence, led him over it. The horse fol- 

 lowed him as lightly and quietly as a dog, 

 and stood still to let him untie the lash. 

 His hand shook, and he did it awkwardly, 

 while the lump in his throat grew bigger. 



The events of the morning were present 

 with him. The jovial breakfast-table at 

 which he had played so sorry a part ; the 

 look of the grey horse bucking as he was 

 led round to the door ; the cold, sick feeling 

 when the hounds opened on the fox in 

 covert ; the look of Glasgow's back as he 

 and the others disappeared over the hill, 

 leaving him stuck at the first fence, en- 

 gaged in that half-hearted battle with his 

 horse that had resulted in a fall for them 

 both. He hated them all — Bunbury, Glas- 

 gow, the road-riding faction, who had volun- 

 teered with horrible sympathy to show him 

 the short cuts : he almost hated his wife for 

 the easy confidence in him that he knew he 

 did not deserve. 



" ril get over it," he said to himself. 



