occupants. How would it feel to be a princess, and loll back in one's
chair, conscious of being the cynosure of every eye? Betty lolled, and
tried to project herself into the position, pleasingly conscious of a
new blouse, quite immaculate suede gloves, and Cynthia's buckle showing
its dull blues and reds at the front of her belt. She turned her head
slowly from side to side, and cultivated a charming smile.--"Princess
Elizabeth appeared in the Royal Box, looking as fascinating as ever in a
costume of her favourite grey.--"

The musical programme was interesting and varied, but during the second
half of the concert the cheerfulness of the scene was sadly marred by
the ever-increasing fog which crept in from without, filling the vast
interior with a gloom against which the many lights seemed powerless to
contend. Dr Trevor began to feel a little nervous about the safety of
his party, and suggested making a move before the end of the concert,
but Miss Beveridge insisted that she and her friend needed no escort
home.

"It would have to be a very bad fog to frighten us. We are accustomed
to going about town in all weathers," she declared, and this was so
obviously the case that it seemed affectation to protest. The doctor
therefore explained that as he was in charge of Cynthia he wished to
allay her mother's natural anxiety as soon as possible, and the young
people bade farewell to their guests of the afternoon and hurried
downstairs.

Early though it was, hundreds of people seemed to have been inspired by
the same fears, for the stairway was thronged and the passages
downstairs were becoming momentarily blocked. Dr Trevor tucked
Cynthia's hand through his arm.

"Look after your sister, Miles," he cried, turning a quick glance over
his shoulder. "I'm afraid it's very thick. Keep close behind me if you
can. In any case make the best of your way home."

A moment later they passed through the doorway into a world of black
gloom, in which phantom shapes at one moment pressed against one, and at
the next vanished utterly from sight.

Betty gave a little cry of dismay, for, London-bred as she was, never
before had she been out of doors in such an impenetrable fog. She put
out her hand towards the spot where Miles had stood a moment before, but
her fingers gripped nothing more substantial than air. She gave a quick
leap forward, and clutching at a shadowy coat-sleeve shook it violently,
calling out in accents h