98 THE SILVER FOX 



the door at length opened to let the guest 

 out into the fog, Lady Susan was near it, 

 tall and resplendent, with the fur of her 

 glistening silk wrap clinging round her 

 white neck. The door closed, and as she 

 turned away she saw something white under 

 its flap. 



"I say, it's a letter," she exclaimed, stoop- 

 ing for it, " some one must have dropped it, 

 and it caught under the door. Why, it's 

 for Hughie — looks like a washerwoman's 

 bill. Funny way of sending it in, isn't 

 it ? " she yawned hugely ; " well, it will 

 keep, anyhow. Let's go to bed ; good-night, 

 my dears." She flung the letter on a table 

 and rustled up-stairs. 



Slaney was in the habit of saying her 

 prayers. She knelt down and put her head 

 into the soft cushion of the chair, conscious 

 of little except that she had flung down 

 the burden of another day. She remained 

 for a long time on her knees, with a blank, 

 spent mind, soothed in some dull way by 

 the suggestions of her attitude, till a slight 



