round and was off.He turned quickly and saw the ducks had been following them.
So she drove them before her back into the pond, the ducks running interror from her with their wings spread, and she not pressing them, forhe saw that had she been so minded she could have caught two or three ofthe nearest. Then, with her brush waving above her, she came gambollingback to him so playfully that he stroked her indulgently, though he wasfirst vexed, and then rather puzzled that his wife should amuse herselfwith such pranks.
But when they got within doors he picked her up in his arms, kissed herand spoke to her.
"Silvia, what a light-hearted childish creature you are. Your courageunder misfortune shall be a lesson to me, but I cannot, I cannot bear tosee it."
Here the tears stood suddenly in his eyes, and he lay down upon theottoman and wept, paying no heed to her until presently he was arousedby her licking his cheek and his ear.
After tea she led him to the drawing room and scratched at the door tillhe opened it, for this was part of the house which he had shut up,thinking three or four rooms enough for them now, and to save thedusting of it. Then it seemed she would have him play to her on thepianoforte: she led him to it, nay, what is more, she would herself pickout the music he was to play. First it was a fugue of Handel's, then oneof Mendelssohn's Songs Without Words, and then "The Diver," and thenmusic from Gilbert and Sullivan; but each piece of music she picked outwas gayer than the last one. Thus they sat happily engrossed for perhapsan hour in the candle light until the extreme cold in that unwarmed roomstopped his playing and drove them downstairs to the fire. Thus did sheadmirably comfort her husband when he was dispirited.
Yet next morning when he woke he was distressed when he found that shewas not in the bed with him but was lying curled up at the foot of it.During breakfast she hardly listened when he spoke, and then impatiently,but sat staring at the dove.
Mr. Tebrick sat silently looking out of window for some time, then hetook out his pocket book; in it there was a photograph of his wife takensoon after their wedding. Now he gazed and gazed upon those familiarfeatures, and now he lifted his head and looked at the animal beforehim. He laughed then bitterly, the first and last time for that matterthat Mr. Tebrick ever laughed at his wife's transformation, for he wasnot very humorous. But this laugh was sour and painful to him. Then hetore up the photograph into little pieces, and scattered them out of thewindow, saying to himself: "Memories will not help me here," and turningto the vixen he saw that she was still staring at the caged bird, andas he looked he saw her lick her chops.
He took the bird into the next room, then acting suddenly upon theimpulse, he opened the cage door and set it free, saying as he did so:
"Go, poor bird! Fly from this wretched house while you still rememberyour mistress who fed you from her coral lips. You are not a fitplaything for her now. Farewell, poor bird! Farewell! Unless," he addedwith a melancholy smile, "you return with good tidings like Noah'sdove."
But, poor gentleman, his troubles were not over yet, and indeed one maysay that he ran to meet them by his constant supposing that his ladyshould still be the same to a tittle in her behaviour now that she waschanged into a fox.
Without making any unwarrantable suppositions as to her soul or what hadnow become of it (though we could find a good deal to the purpose onthat point in the system of Paracelsus), let us consider only how muchthe change in her body must needs affect her ordinary conduct. So thatbefore we judge too harshly of this unfortunate lady, we must reflectupon the physical necessities and infirmities and appetites of her newcondition, and we must magnify the fortitude of her mind which enabledher to behave with decorum, cleanliness and decency in spite of her newsituation.
Thus she might have been expected to befoul her room, yet never couldanyone, whether man or beast, have shown more nicety in such matters.But at luncheon Mr. Tebrick helped her to a wing of chicken, and leavingthe room for a minute to fetch some water which he had forgot, found herat his return on the table crunching the very bones. He stood silent,dismayed and wounded to the heart at this sight. For we must observethat this unfortunate husband thought always of his vixen as that gentleand delicate woman she had lately been. So that whenever his vixen'sconduct went beyond that which he expected in his wife he was, as itwere, cut to the quick, and no kind of agony could be greater to himthan to see her thus forget herself. On this account it may indeed beregretted that Mrs. Tebrick had been so exactly well-bred, and inparticular that her table manners had always been scrupulous. Had shebeen in the habit, like a continental princess I have dined with, oftaking her leg of chicken by the drumstick and gnawing the flesh, it hadbeen far better for him now. But as her manners had been perfect, so thelapse of them was proportionately painful to him. Thus in this instancehe stood as it were in silent agony till she had finished her hideouscrunching of the chicken bones and had devoured every scrap. Then hespoke to her gently, taking her on to his knee, stroking her fur and fedher with a few grapes, saying to her:
"Silvia, Silvia, is it so hard for you? Try and remember the past, mydarling, and by living with me we will quite forget that you are nolonger a woman. Surely this affliction will pass soon, as suddenly asit came, and it will all seem to us like an evil dream."
Yet though she appeared perfectly sensible of his words and gave himsorrowful and penitent looks like her old self, that same afternoon, ontaking her out, he had all the difficulty in the world to keep her fromgoing near the ducks.
There came to him then a thought that was very disagreeable to him,namely, that he dare not trust his wife alone with any bird or she wouldkill it. And this was the more shocking to him to think of since itmeant that he durst not trust her as much as a dog even. For we maytrust dogs who are familiars, with all the household pets; nay more, wecan put them upon trust with anything and know they will not touch it,not even if they be starving. But things were come to such a pass withhis vixen that he dared not in his heart trust her at all. Yet she wasstill in many ways so much more woman than fox that he could talk to heron any subject and she would understand him, better far than theoriental women who are kept in subjection can ever understand theirmasters unless they converse on the most trifling household topics.
Thus she understood excellently well the importance and duties ofreligion. She would listen with approval in the evening when he said theLord's Prayer, and was rigid in her observance of the Sabbath. Indeed,the next day being Sunday he, thinking no harm, proposed their usualgame of piquet, but no, she would not play. Mr. Tebrick, notunderstanding at first what she meant, though he was usually very quickwith her, he proposed it to her again, which she again refused, andthis time, to show her meaning, made the sign of the cross with her paw.This exceedingly rejoiced and comforted him in his distress. He beggedher pardon, and fervently thanked God for having so good a wife, who, inspite of all, knew more of her duty to God than he did. But here I mustwarn the reader from inferring that she was a papist because she thenmade the sign of the cross. She made that sign to my thinking only oncompulsion because she could not express herself except in that way. Forshe had been brought up as a true Protestant, and that she still was oneis confirmed by her objection to cards, which would have been less thannothing to her had she been a papist. Yet that evening, taking her intothe drawing room so that he might play her some sacred music, he foundher after some time cowering away from him in the farthest corner of theroom, her ears flattened back and an expression of the greatest anguishin her eyes. When he spoke to her she licked his hand, but remainedshivering for a long time at his feet and showed the clearest symptomsof terror if he so much as moved towards the piano. On seeing this andrecollecting how ill the ears of a dog can bear with our music, and howthis dislike might be expected to be even greater in a fox, all of whosesenses are more acute from being a wild creature, recollecting this heclosed the piano and taking her in his arms, locked up the room andnever went into it again. He could not help marvelling though, since itwas but two days after she had herself led
him there, and even pickedout for him to play and sing those pieces which were her favourites.
That night she would not sleep with him, neither in the bed nor on it,so that he was forced to let her curl herself up on the floor. Butneither would she sleep there, for several times she woke him bytrotting around the room, and once when he had got sound asleep byspringing on the bed and then off it, so that he woke with a violentstart and cried out, but got no answer either, except hearing hertrotting round and round the room. Presently he imagines to himself thatshe must want something, and so fetches her food and water, but shenever so much as looks at it, but still goes on her rounds, every nowand then scratching at the door.
Though he spoke to her, calling her by her name, she would pay no heedto him, or else only for the moment. At last he gave her up and said toher plainly: "The fit is on you now Silvia to be a fox, but I shall keepyou close and in the