At Loudwater House everything went on as before. Fanny and the younger Mrs. Melray remained on the best of terms, and the latter continued to join her and Freddy two or three times a week in their walks. Once, and once only, did the young widow refer to a certain matter which was as carefully shunned by Fanny as by herself. One day when Freddy was out of hearing, Denia said: "I suppose I am only telling you what you know already when I inform you that my brother-in-law's perusal of the statement which I gave into your hands resulted in his writing me a short, but extremely nice letter." "I was given to understand that it was Mr. Melray's intention to write to you." "I cannot tell you how happy his letter has made me. Ever since receiving it I have felt sorry and ashamed of myself for not having taken him into my confidence at first and told him all I had to tell. All my life long I shall think very differently of him from what I used to do." There was a little break in her voice as she finished speaking, and Fanny, glancing at her, saw that her blue eyes were brimmed with tears. If, since her receipt of his letter, Mrs. Melray regarded her brother-in-law from a changed standpoint, Fanny did not fail to notice that he, on his part, now treated her with a certain show of cordiality of which there had been no sign before. Heretofore he had always addressed her ceremoniously as "Mrs. Melray," whereas he now as often as not spoke to her and of her by her baptismal appellation. A cloud seemed to have lifted itself off the house. The pretty widow's eyes began to sparkle again as they had not sparkled since her husband's death. Only, Mrs. Melray the elder, when in her daughter-in-law's company, continued to be as grim and taciturn as she had always been. Nothing had happened which served to change or modify the silent, but uncompromising hostility with which she regarded the younger woman. That she could be very different when she chose was shown by her treatment of Miss Sudlow, which was not merely considerate, but had in it a certain element of cordiality, of a somewhat chill and stately kind it may be, but which, coming from the person it did, meant more than it would have meant from another. One of the chief duties of the dowager's companion was to read aloud to her mistress. Unfortunately, about this time Miss Armishaw contracted a severe cold, which resulted, for the time being, in a partial loss of voice. In this strait Fanny offered her services as reader, an offer which Mrs. Melray was pleased to accept. This brought the two women into more confidential relations than before, for the readings always took place in the elder lady's private sitting-room, and were usually followed by half-an-hour's chat on sundry topics of the day before Fanny went back to her more immediate duties.