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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Soul of Susan Yellam, by Horace Annesley
+Vachell
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Soul of Susan Yellam
+
+
+Author: Horace Annesley Vachell
+
+
+
+Release Date: June 14, 2011  [eBook #36428]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Carol Brown, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM
+
+by
+
+HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL
+
+Author of
+Some Happenings, Quinneys,
+Blinds Down, Loot, etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: printer's decoration]
+
+New York
+Grosset & Dunlap
+Publishers
+
+Copyright, 1918,
+By George H. Doran Company
+
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+  TO THE MEMORY OF
+  MY SON
+  RICHARD TANFIELD VACHELL
+  CAPTAIN, FIFTH FUSILIERS
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                           PAGE
+
+      I MOTHER AND SON                11
+
+     II FANCY BROOMFIELD              27
+
+    III INTRODUCING MRS. MUCKLOW      42
+
+     IV LE PAYS DU TENDRE             57
+
+      V UNCLE                         70
+
+     VI FIRST IMPRESSIONS             86
+
+    VII SECOND IMPRESSIONS           101
+
+   VIII RECRUITING                   116
+
+     IX PARSON'S METHODS             130
+
+      X FANCY'S ORDEAL               144
+
+     XI THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS       160
+
+    XII THE EMPTY PEW                174
+
+   XIII FANCY CONSULTS THE CARDS     190
+
+    XIV HYMENEAL                     203
+
+     XV LEANNESS OF SOUL             217
+
+    XVI SAINT WILLUM                 234
+
+   XVII FOOL-WISDOM                  248
+
+  XVIII MISSING!                     263
+
+    XIX SUSPENSE                     279
+
+     XX THE TRAVELLER RETURNS        294
+
+
+
+
+THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM
+
+
+
+
+THE
+SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+MOTHER AND SON
+
+
+The village church at Nether-Applewhite has been described as an
+interesting chapter in ecclesiastical architecture. It stands a little
+apart from the cottages upon a hill which presents something of the
+appearance of a tumulus. Part of the church is Norman, but to the
+uninstructed the outside has been mellowed by time and weather into a
+charming homogeneity. It was embellished early in the eighteenth century
+by the addition of a brick tower. The inside is likely to challenge even
+the uncritical eye. The transept is as long as the nave, and two large
+galleries arrest attention in the west end. Overlooking the chancel is
+the Squire's pew, a sort of royal opera-box, provided with chairs, a
+table, and a fireplace, not to mention a private entrance. Opposite to
+this, across the chancel, stands a three-decker pulpit of
+seventeenth-century woodwork, with a fine hexagonal canopy. On the north
+side of the steps to the chancel is a mutilated fifteenth-century
+screen.
+
+Squire and parson can see every member of the congregation.
+
+There are large pews in nave and transept occupied by the gentry and
+farmers, and many small pews which--although the seats in the church are
+spoken of as "free"--have been used habitually by certain cottagers. One
+of these pews in the nave was known as the Yellam pew. Sunday after
+Sunday, rain or shine, Susan Yellam sat bolt upright in her pew. Her
+son, Alfred, sat beside her. Mother and son were never guilty of missing
+a response, or of looking behind them, or of failing to contribute
+something in copper to the offertory plate. If a stranger happened to be
+conducting the service, and if he was so lost to a sense of duty as to
+display unseemly haste, Mrs. Yellam's voice might be heard, loud and
+clear, setting the proper pace. At the end of every prayer, her "Amen"
+came to be accepted, even by the young and thoughtless, as a grace and
+benediction. Always she wore decent black, as became a woman who had
+buried--in the churchyard outside--a husband and three children. But her
+Easter bonnet had a touch of mauve in it.
+
+Her clothes were not the least part of a tremendous personality.
+Children believed that she went to bed in her black gown. Authority
+exuded from every pore of her skin. Probably Boadicea was cast in just
+such a generous mould. She possessed, as will be seen presently, that
+British cocksureness which so endears us to foreigners. Her particular
+views upon religion, politics, ethics and agriculture (she tended her
+own garden admirably)--views constantly aired for the benefit of her
+neighbours--had become indurated by use. They had stood, as she informed
+all and sundry, the test of time and experience. The Parson, Mr. Hamlin,
+observed of her that she was temperamentally incapable of detecting the
+defects of her great qualities. She supported Squire and Parson in all
+that they said or did, and after the gracious lady of the manor was the
+most respected woman in Nether-Applewhite.
+
+Upon a certain Sunday in June, 1914, Susan Yellam sat as usual in her
+pew. Across the aisle, higher up, sat the Squire's servants, and behind
+them the Parson's three maids. Before the service began, Mrs. Yellam
+noticed that one of the maids was a stranger and not country-bred. The
+girl flaunted no finery, but the cut of her modest skirt and jacket
+proclaimed her urban. Mrs. Yellam guessed that this was Mr. Hamlin's new
+parlourmaid from Old Sarum. She might be described as pretty, but
+"peaky" and "spindling." The Squire preached eugenics, in and out of
+season, and upon the subject of young females as potential mothers Mrs.
+Yellam saw eye to eye with that genial autocrat. However, she consoled
+herself with the reflection that Nether-Applewhite air and good plain
+food would accomplish a much needed change. She hoped that the girl
+would not smirk or giggle if old Captain Davenant read the lessons, an
+infallible test in propriety for strangers. And she wondered vaguely
+what Alfred would think of her. For a season, Alfred had "walked out"
+with this young woman's predecessor, a bouncing, red-cheeked lass of the
+village. Nothing had come of such perambulations. Alfred was what the
+French term "un célebataire endurci." And he was made extremely
+comfortable at home. But he had passed his thirtieth year, and of late
+his mother had hinted discreetly that her cottage, larger than most,
+could accommodate three persons--or more.
+
+Her thoughts were distracted from the new parlourmaid by the arrival of
+the Squire and his party. All eyes in the church were concentrated upon
+the Squire's only son, Lionel, who brought with him his young wife,
+Joyce, the daughter of Mr. Hamlin. Mrs. Yellam knew that this had been a
+love-match, brought to a happy issue against opposition. It was known,
+also, that Master Lionel had left his regiment, the Rifle Brigade, and
+was installed as his sire's land agent. Tongues had wagged freely
+concerning a young soldier's competence for such a position. But Mrs.
+Yellam had firm faith in the lords of the soil. Master Lionel, in her
+opinion, had done the real right thing, both in his choice of a wife and
+of a calling. Perhaps to her the call of the land sounded a more clarion
+note than any other.
+
+Mr. Hamlin and the choir filed in. The congregation rose. In the days of
+Mr. Hamlin's predecessor, nobody budged from his comfortable seat when
+the parson bustled out of the vestry. Mr. Hamlin had changed all that.
+He put down billing and cooing in the galleries, and the sucking of
+peppermints. At first he was regarded with hostile eyes as an innovator,
+but gradually it became known that he had restored forms and ceremonies
+which presented definite meaning to the instructed. Villagers love forms
+and ceremonies when they are discreetly led to understand them.
+
+Old Captain Davenant read the lessons, and the new parlourmaid emerged
+triumphant from the ordeal. Mrs. Yellam noticed, too, that she joined in
+the responses, and sang the hymns in a modestly restrained, clear,
+musical voice. Later, she listened attentively to the sermon. So far, so
+good. At the same time, it became obvious to the mother that her son,
+even more than herself, was impressed by the deportment and behaviour of
+this pretty stranger. During the psalms Alfred's eyes strayed too often
+across the narrow aisle, and at sounds of a soft, beguiling voice he
+opened his mouth and left it open for a significant space of time.
+
+After church, Mrs. Yellam walked home by herself, exchanging sober
+greetings with her neighbours. Alfred lingered in the churchyard, as was
+his custom, because, being a carrier, he captured a little extra trade
+thereby. Also, although a confirmed bachelor, he liked to bandy
+pleasantries with the women, young and old, who were indeed his
+principal customers.
+
+Mrs. Yellam, having curtsied respectfully to the Squire and his lady,
+moved majestically along the village street. As she passed the baker's a
+savoury odour of baked meats assailed her nostrils. It is said that
+smell affects the memory potently. So long as she could remember, Susan
+Yellam had connected this smell of baked meat with Divine Service. As a
+child she had fetched her Sunday dinner from the grandfather of the
+present baker, and, always, as a reward, her mother had given her a
+large lollipop. After she married, her Sunday dinner was cooked for her
+in the same oven and carried to her cottage by a small maid, who, then
+and there, received and consumed an immense bull's-eye. And it seemed to
+Mrs. Yellam a very fitting and proper thing that on Sunday the flesh
+should be as adequately nourished as the spirit. Invariably, also, on
+passing the baker's, she experienced a mournful pleasure in recalling
+her late husband's remarkable appetite. Alfred, as a trencherman, was no
+degenerate son of such a sire.
+
+When she reached the bend of the road, which skirts the placid Avon, she
+saw her cottage and smiled pleasantly. It was thatched, and on that
+account beloved by elderly spinsters who drew in water-colour, and
+frowned upon by sanitary inspectors. The thatch, a masterpiece of
+craftsmanship, surmounted whitewashed walls held together by stout oak
+beams black as the Ace of Spades. Generations of Yellams had lived and
+died in this cottage. Some might have lived longer--so said the sanitary
+inspectors--if the Avon, inconsiderate stream, had never overflowed its
+banks, making thereby an island of the cottage and its garden.
+
+She entered her house, and walked into the parlour, rarely used. Upon a
+round table near the window was an immense family Bible. Mrs. Yellam
+placed her prayer-book beside it, and turned to go into the kitchen,
+which served as a living-room for herself and her son. Suddenly she
+paused, went back to the table, and opened the Bible. It had belonged to
+Alfred's great-grandfather. Upon a fly-leaf were many names and
+dates--births, marriages and deaths. Her eyes lingered upon Alfred's
+name.
+
+Alfred Habakkuk Yellam, born November 19th, 1883.
+
+Alfred's father had objected to the name Habakkuk. But Alfred's mother
+had her way. A favourite brother had been so christened.
+
+She closed the Book. Yes; it was fully time that Alfred should marry.
+She wondered what name would be inscribed beside his.
+
+At the kitchen door she found waiting a small Hebe carrying a beef-steak
+pudding in a basin done up in a white napkin. Mrs. Yellam took the
+pudding from the child, placed it in the oven, after removing the
+napkin, and said wonderingly:
+
+"Whatever be you waiting for?"
+
+Hebe grinned. Young children love old jokes. Mrs. Yellam took from a
+shelf a large green bottle, shook it, and produced the expected
+bull's-eye. Hebe opened wide her mouth. Mrs. Yellam popped in the sweet.
+Hebe raced away to her own dinner. Mrs. Yellam, holding the bottle in
+her hand, stood still for a minute, watching the diminutive, diminishing
+figure till it was lost to sight. Then she turned and contemplated her
+garden smiling beneath a June sun. The midsummer heat still held
+deliciously the freshness of spring. The pervasive charm of the glorious
+month was at its highest pitch. And this stout, red-cheeked woman,
+nearing her sixtieth year, was subtly conscious of this, although
+incapable of putting thoughts into words. But dominating her sense of
+the beauty of things there remained an even more immeasurable
+satisfaction common to all women when they survey their belongings,
+great or small, a fundamental pride in possession which Tory statesmen,
+denying the vote to these supermen, have failed to take into wise
+account. Women are basically conservative, even the humblest of them.
+They cling to property, to tradition; they love the deep lanes, the very
+ruts along which they move; they clutch to their bosoms all that is
+truly theirs, beginning, of course, with their own children.
+
+At this moment, the Squire of the parish, Sir Geoffrey Pomfret, happened
+to be surveying his domain as seen from his own front door. And he had
+less reason behind a pride in great possession than Susan Yellam,
+inasmuch as his broad acres were an inheritance. Every vegetable and
+flower in the Yellam garden had been planted and tended by the
+proprietress. They were perfect in her eyes because of this. She had
+precisely the same feeling about Alfred, her son, whom she perceived
+leisurely approaching the comfortable home that she had made for him.
+
+She went indoors and busied herself with preparations for the most
+substantial meal of the week.
+
+Alfred quickened his pace as he approached the small stable which held
+his two serviceable horses and the van which plied regularly between
+Nether-Applewhite and Old Sarum. He, too, on entering the stable, paused
+to survey his possessions, but not with the same complacency which might
+have been seen upon his mother's face. Alfred loved his horses, and his
+roomy van balked dearer to him than he would have cared to admit,
+certainly as dear as the full-length Reynolds portrait in the
+dining-room of Pomfret Court was to the Squire. Both Sir Geoffrey and he
+knew that portrait and van must be sacrificed upon the altar of
+necessity. Sir Geoffrey needed twenty thousand pounds to reduce a
+crippling mortgage; Alfred, if he intended to keep and improve a good
+business, must advance with the times to the rattle of a motor. And, of
+late, whenever his mind had grappled with this insistent problem, he had
+noticed that the old van creaked more than usual, as if in protest.
+
+Alfred fed his horses, patted their shining necks, and went into the
+cottage to "clean up." Splashing mightily, he smelt the beef-and-kidney
+pudding. Five minutes afterwards, Mrs. Yellam said grace. Mother and son
+ate in silence till the meal was nearly over. Then Mrs. Yellam asked a
+question:
+
+"What be the name, Alferd, o' the new maid over to Vicarage?"
+
+"Fancy Broomfield."
+
+"Fancy! Wherever did she come by such a finical name as that?"
+
+"I don't know, Mother."
+
+Mrs. Yellam continued, in a slightly aggressive tone:
+
+"I never was one to hold with queer onChristian names. It's silly, too,
+to call girls by names o' flowers. Look at Lily Pavey!"
+
+"I never do," affirmed Alfred.
+
+"Dark-complected, and no better than she should be. An' that there Rose
+Mucklow--! More like a gert carrot, seemin'ly."
+
+Alfred, having enjoyed "advantages," did not use the dialect of
+Wiltshire, seldom heard now except from the elderly villagers. As became
+a carrier accustomed to pick his way through country lanes, he seldom
+argued with his mother, partly because he knew that her tongue was
+sharper than his, partly, also, because he travelled, mentally, along
+lines of less resistance. On this occasion, he said curtly:
+
+"I like Fancy."
+
+"The name or the maid?" asked his mother quickly.
+
+"Both. The name seems to match the maid."
+
+"Why, Alferd, whatever do 'ee know about her?"
+
+"I brought her from Salisbury. A rare talker; she sat beside me, she
+did, and talked free and pleasant, as--as a throstle sings."
+
+His mother eyed him sharply. Alfred, as a rule, disdained flowers of
+speech. She proceeded more warily:
+
+"If so be as you know all about her, let's hear what's to tell. I'll say
+this, she behaves herself in church."
+
+This commendation loosened Alfred's tongue, as was intended. Very
+leisurely, between immense mouthfuls of bread and cheese, he told an
+artless tale. Fancy, it appeared, was the youngest daughter of a small
+farrier in Salisbury, and the first of three daughters to take service.
+Her father enjoyed poor health. At this Mrs. Yellam sniffed. She held
+strong opinions, like the Squire, upon eugenics. If put to it, she might
+have admitted that ill-health was apportioned by Providence to the less
+deserving. Dissenters, in her experience, suffered more from mysterious
+ailments than Church-people. Draughty, jerry-built Chapels were
+handicraft of Satan. Alfred continued. Fancy had chosen a country place,
+because she was none too robust.
+
+"Peaky and spindlin'," remarked Mrs. Yellam. "Is her mother alive?"
+
+"The pore soul gave up the ghost when Fancy was born."
+
+"That's very bad, Alferd."
+
+Alfred, no pessimist, answered cheerfully:
+
+"Might have been worse, Mother."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+Alfred grinned.
+
+"She might have died before Fancy was born, and then there'd be one
+pretty maid the less in Nether-Applewhite to-day."
+
+"Gracious! She do seem to find favour with 'ee. 'Tis wicked to wager
+money on't, but I'll lay a pound o' good butter, Alferd, that you
+disremember Mr. Hamlin's text this marning."
+
+"You'd win that bet, Mother. I'm bothered and moithered to death."
+
+"About this white-faced maid, Alferd?"
+
+"About my old van. About the horses, too. I'm far-seeing, Mother. Get
+that from you, I reckon. Yesterday, in Salisbury, I did take upon myself
+the very hateful job of looking at a motor-'bus."
+
+Mrs. Yellam sighed. Fancy flew out of her capacious mind.
+
+"What be us coming to, Alferd!"
+
+"I don't know. But I'm always one to make a guess. My son, maybe, 'll be
+a carrier, like his father and granfer before him; likely as not he'll
+want to sell the motor-'bus and buy a flying-machine. We all march on
+and on."
+
+"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"
+
+Mrs. Yellam gazed mournfully at her son. As a Christian soldier she
+believed devoutly in "marching on," but such marching implied a
+leisurely procession, not excess speed. She hated motors, because they
+rushed by, covering the foot-passengers with dust or mud according to
+the season. She had, too, an inchoate aversion to all machinery, because
+it minimised and mocked at human labour, which she respected
+inordinately. Machinery had driven able-bodied men overseas to return no
+more. She had seen certain cunning handicrafts wither and die. For
+instance, how many thatchers were left? Machinery, so she believed, had
+raised the cost of living; machinery--the ubiquitous locomotive--linked
+together disastrously town and country, filling the minds of maids with
+what she called "flummery" and covering their bodies with cheap finery.
+Machinery, had you probed her heart to its depths, manufactured free
+thought, and everything else that lured God-fearing persons from the old
+ways. It was, indeed, hateful to think of her Alfred driving a
+motor-'bus.
+
+She exclaimed impulsively:
+
+"Alferd, don't 'ee sell the horses and van."
+
+Alfred scratched his head, looking sheepishly at his mother. He
+understood her very well, and shared most of her cut-and-dried opinions,
+cherishing even her admonitions. All his life he had had good reason to
+respect and admire her sterling common sense, less rare amongst
+Arcadians than is generally supposed. He replied uneasily:
+
+"That means losing good business, Mother. Folks want more and more
+nowadays, and they want it in a hurry."
+
+"Leave well alone, Alferd."
+
+"Suppose well can't be left alone? I ain't one to complain; I'm grateful
+to the Lord for His blessings, but if another likely young feller
+started a motor-'bus, he'd down-scramble me."
+
+"I allow you knows best about that."
+
+She sighed again. He could see that she was profoundly affected. He went
+on very slowly, thinking as he spoke:
+
+"And there's others.... You rub it well into me that this cottage'd hold
+more than a man and his mother. If I bring the others here, I must think
+of them. I'd like to do handsomely by them as come after us. Mother,"
+his voice trembled a little, "it's more to me than you think for, but
+the old van must go. Our folk won't stay homealong. I'll do a big
+business carrying people instead of parcels."
+
+Mrs. Yellam rose.
+
+"If you give me they others, Alferd, I'll put up with this wondersome
+change. God's ways be our ways, if we look humbly into 'em. I did hear
+tell t'other day of a motor-hearse. Don't 'ee carry me to my grave in
+one!"
+
+Alfred solemnly reassured her, and began to fill his pipe.
+
+As a rule, he took a Sunday nap after dinner, whilst his mother was
+washing up. At three, he would stroll along the village street,
+combining business with pleasure, picking up gossip and booking orders
+for the coming week. Later, he might walk in the park with a companion,
+not always of the opposite sex. He liked a wit-sharpening talk with a
+man, sensible, perhaps, that his own wits had not too sharp an edge to
+them. The women of the village were unanimous in pronouncing him a true
+Yellam. All the men of his family were good to look on--stoutly-built
+fellows, broad-sterned and broad-shouldered, slow of speech and
+movement, slow, too, to wrath, patient under adversity and modest under
+prosperity, solid and stolid, kind to animals and children, and racy of
+the soil.
+
+Upon this particular Sunday, Alfred took the high-road earlier than
+usual. Fate, rather than inclination, directed his steps towards the
+Vicarage. For the moment his van and a pair of horses filled his mind.
+Back of these lay a pleasant wish to pass the time of day with Fancy
+Broomfield. No doubt she was feeling very homesick. He wondered what she
+would have to say upon the subject of motor-'buses. He divined in her a
+vein of sentiment, which appealed to him the more strongly because it
+was absent in the red-cheeked, bouncing girl whom he had considered,
+temporarily, as a future wife. From her he had escaped--thank the Lord!
+
+Alfred reached the village in five minutes. It was a source of pride to
+his mother and himself that their cottage was isolated. Such isolation
+carried with it a certain distinction, an immunity from derisive comment
+upon the Monday's washing, and the shrill voices of scolding wives, and
+the howling of babies. The Yellams' cottage always smelled sweet. There
+were no neighbours to pop in at unseasonable hours to borrow
+unconsidered trifles which they had no intention of returning.
+
+Nether-Applewhite was regarded by the Squire as a model village,
+delightfully old-fashioned in appearance but brought up-to-date by a
+judicious expenditure of time and money. The passing traveller admired
+the width of the main street which meandered north and south, following
+the course of the Avon. Some of the cottages had been built in the
+sixteenth century, or, possibly, at an even earlier date. Some were, as
+obviously, modern, but not, on that account, unpleasing to the more
+critical, for harmony had been aimed at and achieved. The high note--_la
+note qui chante_--was the curious thatching of the roofs, some of them
+miracles of cunning craftsmanship. The tiny gardens blazed with colour,
+because the lady of the manor loved flowers and bestowed handsome
+prizes, each year, upon the most successful of many competitors. Stocks,
+red-hot-pokers, larkspur, polyanthus, peonies and dahlias caught the eye
+which was lured back to the humbler beauties of mignonette,
+forget-me-not, love-in-idleness, and a generous profusion of roses.
+
+Few villagers were abroad, but Alfred Yellam bagged a brace of orders
+and exchanged banter with half-a-dozen young men loafing near the main
+bridge across the Avon. Amongst these happened to be a soldier, looking
+very smart in a kilt and white spats. Soldiers were not too highly
+esteemed in Nether-Applewhite. This particular specimen was the son of a
+notorious poacher, and till now regarded by the fathers of the hamlet as
+a ne'er-do-well. To-day, he carried himself handsomely, turning a bold,
+bronzed face upon all beholders. He spoke civilly to Alfred and enquired
+after his mother. He had just come back from India with his regiment,
+and was entertaining an appreciative audience with Eastern tales spiced
+like the breezes that blow from Ceylon.
+
+Alfred listened to him, marvelling at the change in the man. Presently,
+he essayed a mild jest:
+
+"You were a rare runner after the petticoats, Harry, but I never thought
+you'd live to wear 'em."
+
+Bucolic laughter greeted this sally. Harry laughed as gaily as the
+others.
+
+"You may come to it, Alfred Yellam, if what I hear tell of comes true."
+
+"And whatever might that be, Harry?"
+
+"War, Alfred, war such as you fellers never dreamed of."
+
+"What a tale!"
+
+Harry surveyed the group critically:
+
+"A bit o' drill'd make men o' some of 'ee." He broke into a lusty
+barrack-room ditty--
+
+     "It's One--Two--ten times a day,
+     And now that you 'ave got it,
+     Don't yer give it away--!
+     ONE--TWO--ten times a day,
+     When I was in the timid, orkard squad, boys."
+
+Alfred said solemnly:
+
+"I ain't one to deny that wars may come. And you were always a good
+fighter, Harry, but we are men o' peace."
+
+"Ay," said one of the group, "I never did fancy soldierin'."
+
+Alfred said slily:
+
+"William ain't yet forgiven a Hampshire redcoat who walked out and off,
+by Golly! with his girl."
+
+Having fired this shot, Alfred walked on. In his mind he turned over the
+thought of war, such a war as he, indeed, had never dreamed of in
+maddest nightmare. And the words and tune of the barrack-room ditty
+echoed through the cells of his brain. He wondered vaguely whether he
+could stick such dire discipline--ten times a day. Wouldn't he up and
+smite the sergeant to mother earth with his big fists, which clenched
+themselves at the mere thought of such a treadmill? Then he reflected
+comfortably that England's fleet sailed gloriously between him and such
+a possibility. The Squire belonged to the blue-water school. So did the
+Parson. Alfred muttered to himself:
+
+"They talk that way because they know no better, pore souls!"
+
+A carrier had other things to worry about.
+
+Approaching the Vicarage by the back way, he heard a woman's voice. He
+stood still. Tender modulations fluttered, like doves of peace, out of
+the pantry window. Alfred smiled.
+
+"'Tis she, the pretty dear! Talks and sings just like a throstle."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+FANCY BROOMFIELD
+
+
+Fancy Broomfield left Salisbury for Nether-Applewhite with a heavy heart
+not hidden by a pathetic smile. Possibly Alfred Yellam had a glimpse of
+unshed tears, when she took her place beside him in his van. And his
+ears may have caught a poignant note of distress quavering now and again
+beneath her prattle. Country folk are observant, although they keep
+their observations to themselves. Fancy had been happy at home. When she
+took a place in Salisbury, in the time-honoured Cathedral Close, she saw
+her people frequently. As she moved farther from Salisbury, she was
+grievously conscious of what separation from her father included. The
+fact that he was failing in health, and therefore in fortune, punctuated
+her misgivings. Alfred won her confidence with a few curt words about
+her new place and its master. He did not mention her bouncing
+predecessor, but he talked of the Parson and his household with the
+incisive tones of one who knew. What he said was reassuring. Most
+maidservants approach a new place with justifiable apprehensions
+concerning the mistress. In this case there was no mistress. Possibly
+disagreeable fellow-servants may arouse even livelier forebodings. A
+cook, for example, holds the keys of Heaven and Hell in her hands. Fancy
+had envisaged an immense cook with a great red face, and a liver swollen
+to atrabiliar disproportions. She was pleased to learn that the autocrat
+of the Parson's kitchen was not much larger than herself and
+consistently amiable.
+
+"Parson preaches against sour faces," said Alfred. "No yapping and
+snarling in his house. From your looks, you ain't one to come
+slummicking in after hours with a silly tale about being took all over
+queer when out walking."
+
+"My! no," affirmed Fancy.
+
+Alfred digested this in silence. Fancy had already told him much about
+her family, but she had not mentioned others. Presently, Alfred said
+abruptly:
+
+"Have you got a young man in Salisbury?"
+
+Fancy laughed for the first time, a silvery trickle of laughter.
+
+"Why should you think I have, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"It seems to me likely."
+
+"Well, I am fond of one boy. He's too sweet for anything."
+
+"Is he?"
+
+"Yes, I'd like you to meet him. Maybe I'll show you his photograph one
+fine day. It's in my trunk. He's a sailor-boy, and at sea."
+
+"Ah. At sea, is he? My mother says that a woman is silly to marry a
+sailor. Why? Because, if you love him, he is always at sea, and if you
+hate him, he bides at home."
+
+Fancy laughed again.
+
+"Then my boy, after he marries, will be always at sea. How miserable for
+his wife!"
+
+"It is a fair warning."
+
+"For me, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"I mean, if you marry your sailor-boy."
+
+"But I can't marry my own dear brother."
+
+And then Alfred laughed, Homerically.
+
+Soon afterwards, he left her and a modest box at the Vicarage. She
+thanked him demurely, asking how much she owed him. Alfred was tempted
+to demand a kiss in payment, but a glance at a virginal face restrained
+him. He said, "One shilling, please, miss," and she slipped the coin
+into his ample palm, adding: "It's a new one. That brings luck, don't
+it?" Alfred indulged in no speculations on this point, but when he found
+himself alone, he examined the loose change in his pocket, and picking
+out a new shilling, transferred it to another pocket, wondering
+furtively if he were making a fool of himself. He whistled gaily as he
+drove on.
+
+Fancy was shown to a small room, which pleased her immensely, because no
+other maid shared it with her. From a casemented window, she could see
+the park of Pomfret Court, with its clumps of fine trees and its herds
+of dappled deer. She felt that she would be happy in such a quiet place.
+The room was very simply but comfortably furnished, spotlessly clean and
+fresh. She admired the wall-paper, white with small sprigs of pink roses
+on it. What a lucky girl to have such a nice room! And, approaching the
+Vicarage, she had fallen in love with the many-gabled house standing
+amongst beeches, a warm-looking house of time-mellowed brick, built
+substantially, happily situated below the church and just above the
+village. As she was unpacking, the house-maid, Molly, brought her a cup
+of tea. Being her first day, Fancy was not expected to wait at dinner,
+but Molly told her that after dinner she would be sent for, and that she
+might expect a five-minute chat with her master.
+
+"Is he masterful?" she asked.
+
+Molly nodded, adding confidentially:
+
+"Such a pair of eyes as never was. Gimlets! It ain't no fun lying to
+him, and no use either. He can look bang through a pore girl, and tell
+her what she's had for dinner."
+
+"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Fancy.
+
+"Don't you worry! 'Tis an easy place. No SHE poking and prying about.
+Only we have to be good girls here, and then we're happy."
+
+"I do hope I shall be happy," said Fancy, adding hastily, "I look such a
+fright when I ain't."
+
+After dinner she was duly sent for, and found the Parson walking up and
+down his study. He regarded her austerely, bidding her welcome to his
+house. Fancy noticed at once the keenness of his glance, and the still
+more penetrating quality of his voice. First impressions count
+enormously with sensitive creatures, and young women in Fancy's station
+of life are not much concerned with shades and gradations. To most of
+them men are angels or devils, black or white. Fancy had encountered
+what she called "devils" in Salisbury, rough fellows with Rabelaisian
+jests upon their thick lips. From such she shrank instinctively. Happily
+for her, she had met the other sort in and out of the Cathedral Close.
+Instantly, she acclaimed Mr. Hamlin as angel, a rather terrible angel,
+such as she imagined Saint Michael to be, pitiless to the wicked,
+smiting them hip and thigh with a flaming sword. Her second impression,
+not quite so vivid, was more agreeable. The Parson's clothes were
+shabby, and his study, which, indeed, reflected truthfully the man's
+personality, presented a somewhat bleak aspect. It looked a workshop
+rather than a comfortable room. The cocoanut matting was worn; plain
+deal shelves held innumerable cheaply-bound books; pamphlets were piled
+upon the floor; the chairs, with one exception, were not upholstered.
+She blushed a little as the thought came to her that she, the new
+parlourmaid, not yet in working kit, was the smartest object in her
+master's room.
+
+Mr. Hamlin asked her a few questions. Fancy had good references; she was
+a Churchwoman; she had been confirmed by Sarum himself. She belonged to
+the Girls' Friendly Society. Did she like her work? Yes. Mr. Hamlin
+smiled. For a moment Saint Michael vanished and a less terrifying
+personage stood in his place.
+
+"I like _my_ work," said the Parson incisively. "That is a vital matter.
+Perhaps it is the most vital matter in the world. Each of us has his or
+her work, and if we do it gladly it is well with us. You don't look very
+strong."
+
+"I'm much stronger than I look, sir."
+
+Her soft, deprecating voice brought another smile to the Parson's lips.
+He said abruptly:
+
+"Good. Women need all their strength and reserves of strength. Your work
+here will not be too hard. Spare yourself whenever you reasonably can,
+and so you will serve me and yourself the better. Good-night."
+
+Fancy went away, slightly awed, but feeling much more comfortable.
+Before going to bed, she wrote a short letter to her father, telling him
+that she liked her place. She added a postscript: "Mr. Yellam, the
+carrier, was ever so kind to me."
+
+She slept well in a comfortable bed.
+
+She came to Nether-Applewhite on a Thursday. On the following Sunday, as
+Alfred Yellam had foreseen, she was feeling homesick, because she had
+never failed to see her own people on that day. After luncheon, to
+hearten herself up, she sang hymns in the pantry.
+
+Her face brightened, when she perceived Alfred at the door of the
+pantry. After asking her how she fared, and learning that the other
+maids were "out," he said, in business-like tones:
+
+"Any orders for the carrier?"
+
+Fancy smiled demurely. She was alone in the house. The Parson had a
+Children's Service at three. She guessed that, as a rule, carriers did
+not call for orders at such an hour.
+
+"Not as I know of, Mr. Yellam. Do you generally call for orders on
+Sunday afternoon?"
+
+By this time she had been informed of Alfred's perambulations with her
+predecessor. It might be an honoured custom in Nether-Applewhite for the
+carrier to walk out with the Vicarage parlourmaid. Alfred gave a guffaw.
+
+"Well, no; I took a notion to drop in, casual-like, to pass the time of
+day."
+
+"What would the Vicar say to that?"
+
+"Parson ain't the fearsome man you take him to be. A very human
+gentleman, always welcome in our house. And I make bold to tell you that
+I'm heartily welcome in his."
+
+"If that is so," said Fancy, politely, "won't you sit down, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+She indicated a chair into which Alfred bumped massively, with the air
+of one not to be budged from an impregnable position. Fancy was getting
+ready some dainty tea-things.
+
+"Expecting company, miss?"
+
+"Yes. Mr. Lionel Pomfret and Mrs. Pomfret. A nice tea. Master's orders."
+
+Alfred nodded. He eyed Fancy with ever-increasing approval. A black
+gown, with snowy apron, bib, and cap, became her admirably. Beneath the
+cap her soft brown hair lay in shining ripples; the bib lent extra
+fulness to a too thin bosom; her big hazel eyes sparkled with animation;
+her pale cheeks had a tinge of pink in them. Alfred contrasted her
+delicate features with the exuberant comeliness of the late parlourmaid.
+Charm was not a word very distinctly defined in his vocabulary. But he
+became conscious of Fancy's charm, although he would have called it by
+another name. Certainly she was sweetly pretty, like a rose-leaf which a
+rough wind might blow away. More than aught else, too, he was struck by
+her little hands, which moved deftly and swiftly. He made sure that she
+was a good needlewoman. Such hands could make light pastry. All this
+pleased him tremendously. Fancy prattled on about the company expected,
+telling Alfred what he knew already, but he listened in silence,
+captivated by her voice. She cut dexterously some thin slices of brown
+bread-and-butter, as she spoke of the love-match between Squire's son
+and Parson's daughter.
+
+"I am looking forward to waiting on them," she declared.
+
+"Yes--a very handsome, notable couple. Squire'll be a granfer before he
+knows where he is."
+
+"What things you do say, Mr. Yellam!"
+
+"Ah-h-h! In my common way, I say what I think, never meaning offence,
+particularly to young maids, but 'tis a fact Sir Geoffrey is fair aching
+for grandchildren, the more the merrier. 'Twould be terrible if his
+house and lands passed to some measly next-of-kin. But we won't think of
+that."
+
+"No. Not yet, at any rate."
+
+Alfred felt reproved but not disconcerted. It might be politic to change
+the talk to motor-'buses, so he said abruptly:
+
+"I'm in a fair sweat, Miss Fancy."
+
+"Mercy me! Shall I fetch you a glass of water?"
+
+"Figure of speech, miss. It's like this, if you'll excuse me talking of
+my own affairs."
+
+"Why, I like that. It's so--so friendly of you, Mr. Yellam."
+
+"I'm standing betwixt the devil and the deep sea."
+
+"Well, I never!"
+
+He gazed so earnestly at Fancy that she wondered if she were the deep
+sea, and that the devil was an allusion to the late parlourmaid. Alfred
+continued:
+
+"The world, miss, goes round and round for true lovers, but it don't
+stand still for anybody, leastways not for carriers. We must push along
+with the times, eh?"
+
+He glanced at her anxiously. She was quick to perceive that he wanted
+counsel and much flattered thereby. She eyed him as keenly as he, just
+now, had eyed her. Being so frail and attenuated herself, his massive
+form and square head attracted her strangely. She admired his big chin
+and too heavy nose. And her eyes lingered with appreciation upon the
+bulging biceps and deltoids shewing strongly beneath his thin summer
+jacket. What a sad pity that her dear father had not been cast in such a
+mould! To his anxious question, she replied with a little bob of her
+head.
+
+"My father and granfer were carriers before me. Van and horses was good
+enough for them. And good enough for me, too. It tears me to scrap 'em."
+
+"Scrap them?"
+
+"Ay. When you go back home, how'd it suit you to ride in a motor-'bus?"
+
+"It would be grand," said Fancy.
+
+Alfred rubbed his hands; his red face beamed.
+
+"Dang me, if that don't put the lid on it."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"I was half hoping you'd say what you did. Yes--it would be grand. A
+nice 'bus--red and yaller--'d make the neighbours yap a bit. Do you know
+what they call my old van?"
+
+"It's a nice comfortable van."
+
+"So 'tis. But would-be funny folks call it 'Flash o' Lightnin'.'"
+
+Fancy laughed. Alfred decided that it was a treat to hear her laugh.
+
+"Are you angry with me for laughing?"
+
+"Lord--no! A laugh like yours warms the cockles of my heart. Laugh away,
+miss. All the same, there's a meaning in what neighbours say. I do move
+slow, when I've a load. And in winter-time, when roads are heavy, I just
+crawl along. You're right. A motor-'bus _is_ grand. And I can pay cash
+for one, I can."
+
+He spoke with pride, opening his large hands. Fancy, having finished
+cutting the bread-and-butter, sat down opposite to Alfred. With some
+difficulty he mastered the impulse to invite this bird-like creature to
+perch on his knee. Her air of aloofness both pleased and exasperated
+him. She sat very still, with her hands folded upon her lap, just as
+good girls sat in church. Alfred talked with gusto about motor-'buses.
+
+"Can you drive a motor?" asked Fancy, when he paused to mop his forehead
+with a huge red bandana.
+
+"No, miss. But if I say it as shouldn't, I can do most anything when I
+try. They'll teach me in Salisbury--free, gratis and for nothing, if I
+buy the 'bus."
+
+"I do hope you'll be careful, Mr. Yellam."
+
+Alfred was delighted at this mark of solicitude. For the moment nothing
+more was to be said. He searched his mind for another suitable topic of
+conversation. Already he had decided to ask Fancy to walk out with him,
+but he feared a rebuff. It was "up" to him to shew her his paces. Any
+premature love-making might be disastrous. Nevertheless, it behoved him
+to waste no time in making himself agreeable. Half-a-dozen likely young
+fellows would be fluttering about Fancy before the week was out. First
+come, first served. He essayed a fresh flight:
+
+"Coming through village, miss, I met a soldier--'No Account Harry' we
+used to call him. Back from the Indies, and spruced up wonderful."
+
+Fancy exhibited lively interest.
+
+"A soldier, Mr. Yellam! I do like soldiers, because--because----" Her
+voice melted on a silence; her cheeks shewed a deeper pink.
+
+"Do tell, miss. Why do you like--soldiers?"
+
+"You'll think me such a silly."
+
+"Not me. I'm no mumbudgetter. What you tell me I'll keep to myself."
+
+Her eyes dwelt steadily on his. In a lower voice, she asked:
+
+"Do you believe in fortune-telling, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"I don't know as I do. But I don't know as I don't."
+
+"I do. And--maybe the Vicar wouldn't like this--I can tell fortunes
+myself with cards."
+
+"Well, I never!"
+
+"Yes. About three months ago, a lady came to Salisbury and lodged near
+us. She told fortunes with cards; she taught me. She didn't do it for
+money. Now, if you laugh, I'll never forgive you...."
+
+Alfred became portentously solemn.
+
+"The lady told me that I should marry a soldier."
+
+Alfred looked perturbed, but his shrewd sense sustained him.
+
+"Did she? Likely as not she'd seen you walking out with one."
+
+"I have never walked out with a soldier."
+
+Alfred looked unhappy. He thought of the well-set-up Highlander. He
+beheld Fancy hanging on his arm, gazing upward into a bronzed,
+devil-may-care face, listening to strange tales of the Orient. Jealousy
+ravaged him. His dejection deepened when he discovered that his tongue
+had lost the trick of speech. He yearned to speak lightly and
+facetiously about soldiers. But he could think of nothing better than
+this:
+
+"Soldiers are soldiers."
+
+Fancy read him easily. Her father distrusted soldiers, who loved and ran
+away. He had warned her against their beguilements. But Fancy had read
+English history, more intelligently than most girls of similar
+upbringing. She knew what soldiers had done for England. Also, she had
+eye for a bit of colour. Soldiers appealed to her imagination. She put
+sailors first, the jolly tars. Tommy came next, with his swagger cane,
+his jaunty walk, and his cap cocked on one side, shewing a "quiff"
+beneath.
+
+"Why do men, like you, Mr. Yellam, despise soldiers?"
+
+Alfred wriggled, impaled upon this barbed hook. He had wit enough to
+realise that serious issues impended. He might easily offend Fancy. And
+no answer rose pat to his tongue. Why did he despise soldiers? He was
+too honest to deny the indictment. Yes; he did despise soldiers. He
+answered stolidly:
+
+"There are soldiers and soldiers. 'Tis sober truth, miss, that the best
+men in these parts don't enlist. The pay is bad, and the work hard. The
+wrong 'uns take the shilling only when they're driven to it. It may be
+different in Salisbury."
+
+"I don't know that it is. I can understand why men like you, Mr. Yellam,
+don't enlist. Why should you? But that doesn't change my feelings about
+soldiers. Whatever they may have been, whatever they are, I think of
+this: At any moment, with their hard work, with their poor pay, they may
+be called upon to give their lives for--us."
+
+Her soft voice faltered. Perhaps Alfred was already in love. He may have
+been. When her voice failed, and he beheld her for the first time as a
+woman of sensibilities, tender for others, pleading for the less
+fortunate, all that was best in him leaped into being. Nothing but his
+disability to find words for his thoughts prevented him from avowing his
+feelings. He realised instantly that here sat the girl for him, the wife
+he wanted. His experiments in courtship, if you could term it that,
+confirmed his conviction that he had remained single so long simply
+because Fancy was waiting for him. She was absolutely right because the
+others had been as absolutely wrong.
+
+"That's true," he heard himself saying.
+
+Fancy went on in a livelier tone:
+
+"Have you read Kipling, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"I seem to have heard tell of Mr. Rudyard Kipling in the newspapers."
+
+"I want to tell you what he said about soldiers."
+
+She quoted slowly:
+
+     "It's Tommy this, and Tommy that, and Tommy--go away!
+     But it's--Thank you, Mr. Atkins, when the band begins to play."
+
+Alfred was visibly impressed. He recalled the Highlander's words about
+war, such a war as he had never dreamed of. What if the band did begin
+to play? More, it surprised him that Fancy should quote Kipling.
+Obviously, she had enjoyed educational advantages denied to him. She
+spoke like the quality. He began to measure the distance between them,
+conscious of shrinkage in himself. To gain time he repeated her last
+words:
+
+"When the band begins to play! 'No Account Harry' spoke of that, yes, he
+did. But war is for kings and potentates, not for us. As I came along
+river, I says to myself: 'We have peace here, glory be to our noble
+Fleet!' It gives me a mort of comfort thinking of our mighty ships. And
+I remember what Parson said not so long ago. 'You working-men,' he says,
+'are the backbone of England.' And, by Golly! I stiffened myself
+accordingly."
+
+Fancy smiled, and said no more. She glanced at the pantry clock. Alfred
+rose. His face was redder than usual, as he held out his hand. It
+consoled him mightily to reflect that "No Account Harry," by virtue or
+vice of an unsavoury record, would hardly dare to stick his tip-tilted
+nose into the Vicarage.
+
+"So long, Miss Fancy. Would it be called presumption, if I made so bold
+as to ask you to take the air with me next Sunday? 'Tis wonderful pretty
+in the Park, and I'd like to shew you the fat bullocks."
+
+Fancy blushed, for he was squeezing her small hand.
+
+"I should like it very much," she replied simply.
+
+Alfred asked for no more, wise man! He had squeezed her hand, and she
+had not resented it, although her slim fingers lay calm and cool within
+his ardent clasp. She accompanied him to the back door. In the lapel of
+his jacket Alfred sported one of his mother's roses. He presented it to
+Fancy in silence--and fled. As he passed into the park, intending to map
+out a pilgrimage for the following Sunday, he thought complacently:
+
+"I'm a forcible man. Neighbours say that, and 'tis so. She's a dinky
+maid, bless her!"
+
+With eager strides he mounted the gentle slope of the long escarpment
+between Pomfret Vicarage and Pomfret Court, keeping to the right of the
+main drive. The path he followed meandered through a plantation.
+Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a pair of lovers strolling arm in
+crook, with love in their eyes and laughter on their lips. He recognised
+Lionel Pomfret and his bride. Alfred plunged into the hazels and let
+them pass. When the coast was clear he took the path again, skirting the
+Court and the Home Farm, and, ultimately, debouching upon the downs.
+Warmed by his walk, he removed his hat and fanned himself with it. Then
+he sat down and let his eyes wander across the landscape.
+
+How fair it was upon that midsummer's afternoon!
+
+A soft haze slightly obscured the water meadows. Through it he could see
+the Avon, a silvery riband. In the far distance the finest spire in the
+world soared into palely blue skies. The breeze from the land had died
+down. Presently the breeze from the sea would stir, tremulously, the
+grasses at his feet. Sheep were grazing hard by. Some of them rested in
+the shade of the yews which fringed the top of the down. Immediately
+below him stretched the park. Under the clumps of beeches stood the
+fallow deer. Beyond were the lawns of Pomfret Court, flanked by ancient
+elms and oaks and horse-chestnuts. Between the masses of translucent
+foliage, the façade of the house glowed faintly red as if the sunbeams
+penetrating the bricks during nearly four hundred years were now
+radiating from them.
+
+All this to Alfred--and to how many others--was the outward and visible
+sign of peace, a peace sanctified by time and the labour of countless
+hands. That such a peace could be imperilled passed the understanding of
+wiser men than the carrier. Surely it would endure till the end, till
+eternity.
+
+For ever and ever--Amen!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+INTRODUCING MRS. MUCKLOW
+
+
+Susan Yellam rarely left her cottage, and, during week-days, was not too
+cordial to chance visitors. On Sunday afternoon, however, she was at
+home to friends, and hospitably glad to offer them the best cup of tea
+in Nether-Applewhite, and some hot buttered toast which waited for
+nobody. If a too nice stomach disdained buttered toast, the pangs of
+hunger could be alleviated with bread and honey (from the hives in the
+garden) or bread and jam (of Mrs. Yellam's own making). A rich cake was
+in cut.
+
+Mrs. Yellam had been a Mucklow. And her favourite brother, Habakkuk, had
+married a Rockley--all of Nether-Applewhite. Mrs. Mucklow generally
+dropped in on Sunday afternoons, bringing a grievance with her. The
+Mucklows had not prospered like the Yellams and Rockleys. And this was
+the more remarkable because the Mucklow men were fine upstanding
+fellows, reasonably sober, and God-fearing Churchgoers. The ancients of
+the village affirmed that the brains of the family had been served out
+in one lump, and given to Susan Yellam.
+
+Upon the Sunday following Alfred's visit to the Vicarage, Mrs. Mucklow,
+wearing black silk and a bonnet, dropped into the cottage. She was
+taller than her sister-in-law, and very thin. Invariably she disagreed
+with everything said by Mrs. Yellam, and yet, oddly enough, the two
+women remained friends, partly because Susan believed devoutly in the
+ties of blood, and partly because Jane's rather fatuous contradictions
+shed searchlights upon Susan's commonsense. Wisdom is comfortably
+bolstered by the folly of others.
+
+"Well, Jane, how be you?"
+
+Mrs. Mucklow answered dolorously:
+
+"I be no better than I was las' Sunday."
+
+"That's bad."
+
+"No, it ain't. I expected to be worse. Very soon I shall be lying along
+o' Mother. She suffered wi' her innards, pore soul, just as I do."
+
+"She got comfort out of it, too, just as you do, dear. Sit you down, and
+let's hear the news."
+
+Jane Mucklow sighed, and sat down. Unlike her sister-in-law, she strayed
+daily into the cottages of her neighbours, picking up gossip, and
+repeating it with embellishments of her own. As she removed white cotton
+gloves, she said sharply:
+
+"I want your news first, Susan."
+
+"But I haven't any, Jane; nothing, that is to say, which you don't well
+know already."
+
+"Maybe. But I wanted it from your own lips."
+
+"Bless the woman! Whatever do 'ee want?"
+
+"What you prides yourself on giving--information. Don't sit there so
+genteel, and pretend to me that you don't know what your Alferd be up to
+this very minute!"
+
+"I don't--and nor do you."
+
+"Yas, I do. Your Alferd was over to Vicarage las' Sunday. To-day, he's
+traipsin' the Park with Miss Fancy Broomfield."
+
+From her pronunciation of the name, it was quite evident that the young
+person in question was not what diplomats call _gratissima_ to Mrs.
+Mucklow. And the sniff that followed was aggressive. Mrs. Yellam poured
+out a large cup of tea with an impassive face. Inwardly, she winced.
+Alfred had kept his plans to himself, doing so, moreover, in accordance
+with advice well rubbed into him ever since he had affairs of his own to
+attend to. But a mother--and such a mother--might be deemed an exception
+to a golden rule. Mrs. Yellam said calmly:
+
+"Is he? Who is your Rose walking out wi'?"
+
+The question was ungrammatical and unkind. Rose, large, plain, and
+red-headed, sighed for swains who did not walk out with her. She might
+have been comfortably married to Alfred at this minute. The older
+families in Nether-Applewhite fancied intermarriage, much to the
+exasperation of Sir George Pomfret. And so far--the stock being
+exceptionally sound--no great evil had come of this. Within the year
+Prudence Rockley had married her first cousin. In Mrs. Mucklow's opinion
+marriages between near of kin were preferable to alliances with
+outsiders. Town girls, she regarded, not without reason, as hussies.
+
+"My Rose be a good girl, and well you knows it."
+
+"Maybe you have something agen this Fancy Broomfield? If so, Jane, out
+wi' it."
+
+"Townbred girls be all alike."
+
+Mrs. Yellam replied tranquilly:
+
+"I bain't an upholder o' they, but I keep faith in my Alferd's good
+sense and judgment. He's walked out wi' a baker's dozen o' maids afore
+this 'un, and why not? I've allers told Alferd to pick an' choose."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow attacked the buttered toast almost viciously.
+
+"'Tis true, I suppose, that his father's van ain't good enough for
+_your_ son?"
+
+Inwardly Mrs. Yellam winced again. Alfred had made his decision "on his
+own." But she answered as tranquilly as before:
+
+"Seemin'ly it ain't. God A'mighty knows what us be coming to, and He
+don't tell. As a Christian woman I bows afore Him."
+
+Poor Mrs. Mucklow, continually contrasting the prosperity of Alfred with
+the ill-luck, as she deemed it, of her own three sons, sniffed again.
+Not long since the three Mucklows had contemplated emigration to Canada.
+They had been anchored in Nether-Applewhite by Mr. Fishpingle, sometime
+butler to Sir Geoffrey, now bailiff at the Home Farm. They happened to
+pursue avocations such as hurdling, spar-making, hedging and ditching,
+which were precariously dependent upon a demand that varied
+tremendously, a demand that, year by year, shewed inexorable signs of
+failing. And Mrs. Mucklow was uneasily conscious that her sons' ill luck
+was regarded by her sister-in-law as part of a Divine dispensation. In
+the same complacent spirit the good-luck of Alfred became, in Susan
+Yellam's eyes, a mark of Divine favour. It may be imagined how this
+rankled in the heart of a woman who held herself to be as good a
+Christian as her neighbours, and perhaps better. Mrs. Mucklow retorted
+tartly:
+
+"You be allers shovin' your Christian feelin's down our throats, Susan.
+But I say this--you ain't been tried as I hev."
+
+Mrs. Yellam dealt with this drastically.
+
+"I be thankful for God's mercies. I might be less thankful if so be as I
+mixed up my victuals as you do. Faith in A'mighty God have more to do
+wi' the stomach than most folks think on. As for being tried--I tend
+four graves in churchyard to your one."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow's small beady eyes softened.
+
+"Yas--you've had your sore trials, Susan. And the graves be a credit to
+'ee. But I've said it afore, and I say it again, small fam'lies make for
+righteousness. Keepin' my childern in shoe-leather alone took a deal o'
+saintliness out o' me. Be that cake?"
+
+"I hopes so. Have a slice?"
+
+"Your rich cake allers lies heavy on my pore stomach, but 'twould be
+ungenteel to refuse."
+
+Mrs. Yellam cut a large slice. As Mrs. Mucklow consumed it, Mrs. Yellam
+said impressively:
+
+"I'll tell 'ee something, Jane, as betwixt us two. I ain't one to brag
+unduly, and 'tis true that I be proud o' my Christian feelings. For why?
+Because, long ago, I come mighty near to losing 'em."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow gasped; a piece of cake stuck in her throat.
+
+"I never did! Come near to losin' 'em, did 'ee?"
+
+"Yas." Mrs. Yellam's voice became solemn. "When I buried my pore
+husband...."
+
+"That was a rare funeral, Susan. Squire and my lady there, flowers from
+the Hall, a very moving set-out. Was I interrupting of 'ee?"
+
+"You was, Jane, but never mind. As I laid my husband to rest, I says to
+myself: 'The Lard gave and the Lard ha' taken away.'"
+
+"Very proper."
+
+"The pore man suffered so bad with rheumatics that it seemed God's mercy
+to take 'un. He'd no pleasure in life onless he were talking of his
+aches and pains. And allers the misery o' telling me what he'd like to
+eat an' drink--and couldn't. That fair tore him, and me. He was a rare
+doer, like Alferd. When he was taken, I did not rebel."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow was so interested that she suspended operations with the
+cake, awaiting the climax of an astounding tale, arrested by a strange
+expression upon her sister-in-law's face. The pupils of Mrs. Yellam's
+eyes seemed to contract; her lips became set. She continued very
+impressively:
+
+"When my children died, 'twas different. Seemed to me like as if I was
+buryin' part o' myself. 'Twere bad enough when the two boys went, but
+when Lizzie sickened, my own lil' maid, why then, Jane, I did rebel."
+
+"And no wonder!"
+
+"I watched her slippin' away, and I says, 'No more churchgoin'.'"
+
+Mrs. Mucklow repeated the words:
+
+"No more churchgoing--! That, from you? I be shaken to my beam ends."
+
+Mrs. Yellam went on, in the same cold, incisive voice:
+
+"We be told, Jane, that the Lard chastens him whom He loves, but we read
+elsewhere in the holy Book that He chastises them as He hates. When
+Lizzie died I'd the blasphemeous notion that God A'mighty hated me. And
+then my faith went a-flutterin' out o' winder. I lay in bed two Sundays,
+because I dassn't go into my pew. I never spoke to nobody. Yas--I lay
+abed, fighting Satan. He tempted me rarely."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow nodded.
+
+"Ah-h-h! You be tellin' a wondersome tale, Susan. Satan nearly had me,
+near as no matter, when I was a maid. He came gallivantin' along in a
+red coat...."
+
+"A soldier?"
+
+"No, a fox-hunting young gentleman. 'Tis a subject I don't care to think
+about. How did Satan tempt you, Susan?"
+
+"Wi' a brandy-bottle. It stood there makin' eyes at me...."
+
+"For all the world like my young gentleman."
+
+"What saved you, Jane?"
+
+"I dunno'. It might ha' been God A'mighty's grace. It might ha' been
+fear o' consequences.'
+
+"Them two things saved me, Jane. But I calls it one thing. God
+A'mighty's grace made both on us think o' consequences. I says to
+myself: 'What will Alferd do if his mother don't go churchalong? What'll
+happen to him, if his mother be known as a drunkard?' And, there and
+then, Jane, my pore faith come a-flutterin' back, a-shaking its
+feathers, like a hen after a storm o' rain. And the storm was over, too.
+It's been warm and sunny for me ever since. Now you know why I be proud
+o' my Christian feelings."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow nodded and finished her cake. She had begun her second cup
+of tea, when steps were heard upon the stone flags which led from the
+front wicket to the back door.
+
+"'Tis Alferd," said Mrs. Yellam.
+
+"And Miss Fancy Broomfield," added Jane Mucklow. "Come to ask your
+blessing, Susan."
+
+"Fiddle!" replied Mrs. Yellam sharply.
+
+Within a minute, however, it became plain that Alfred wanted nothing
+more exciting than a cup of tea for himself and his companion. They had
+climbed to the top of the down, after visiting Mr. Fishpingle at the
+Home Farm. Miss Broomfield, formally presented to the elder women and as
+formally received, looked pale and tired. Possibly, she divined
+hostility the more penetrating because suppressed. Mrs. Yellam said
+magnificently:
+
+"Please excuse me for welcoming you, Miss Broomfield, in my kitchen."
+
+Fancy smiled.
+
+"What a pretty kitchen!"
+
+The kitchen--as Mrs. Yellam was complacently aware--deserved the
+adjective. It boasted, what is never found in modern cottages, an open
+hearth and ingle-nook. Hams and flitches of bacon were smoked in the
+wide chimney. After such treatment, the hams were hung in a row from a
+big black beam. By the side of the hearth stood a small stove large
+enough to bake modest joints. The window, with diamond-paned casements,
+was deeply recessed, with a red-cushioned seat running round it. The
+dresser, opposite to the hearth, exhibited pewter and some
+willow-pattern pottery. Upon the oak panelling on each side of the
+hearth hung gleaming brass, including an immense warming-pan. The table
+in the middle of the room had been stoutly built of deal. Removing the
+table-cloth, you would have seen a surface scrubbed white as the linen
+cloth. Along the window-sill were pots of geraniums. Even Mrs. Mucklow
+admitted that Queen Mary could eat her dinner off the red tiles of the
+floor.
+
+Mrs. Yellam nodded. Alfred brought a chair for Fancy, but she declared
+her intention of sitting upon one of two stools against the wall.
+
+To her amazement, Alfred said sharply:
+
+"Don't sit on that!"
+
+"Why ever not, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"'Tis a coffin stool."
+
+Fancy sat down upon the chair he placed for her. Mrs. Mucklow said
+mournfully:
+
+"I wonders, Susan, why you keep they stools in your kitchen."
+
+"And so do I," added Alfred.
+
+Mrs. Yellam answered simply:
+
+"They mind me, Alferd, that in the midst o' life we be wise to think,
+now and again, o' death. Will you remove your hat, Miss Broomfield?"
+
+Fancy did so, slipping off her gloves first. Mrs. Yellam frightened her
+a little. Not quite at ease, she minded her table manners, and behaved
+with a gentility quietly noted and silently commended by the elder
+women. On such occasions, when a stranger happened to be present, Mrs.
+Yellam loved to lead the talk, choosing a subject likely to improve the
+minds of her listeners. The captious may regard this as an unpleasing
+trait. Mrs. Yellam believed that it was more blessed to give than to
+receive instruction. But, listening to Parson or Squire, she imbibed
+such wisdom as fell from their august lips with an attention and an
+intelligence which she exacted from others when she held the floor. Her
+first duty, as hostess, was to see that her guest made a good tea, the
+sort of tea, obviously, that she did not get at home. Fancy, however,
+trifled with her food, being overtired, and positively refused to eat
+cake. Mrs. Yellam said majestically:
+
+"My son tells me that you be a reader, Miss Broomfield."
+
+"I like books," replied Fancy. "I have not read many, Mrs. Yellam."
+
+"I don't hold wi' reading," observed Mrs. Mucklow; "leastways, not for
+pore folks as has no time to waste."
+
+This was a sly thrust at Susan Yellam, one of the few villagers who took
+in and read a halfpenny paper.
+
+"Nor do I, Jane, for such as you means. Parson says you find in a book
+just what you bring to 'un. There's folks in Nether-Applewhite as brings
+nothing, nothing at all."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow helped herself to a second slice of cake. Alfred lit his
+pipe, hoping that Fancy would stand her ground when his mother opened
+fire. Mrs. Yellam smiled graciously at her guest. She might be
+"spindling," but she looked intelligent. Nevertheless, she distrusted
+intelligence in very young women. Undisciplined, it might turn a modest
+maid into a militant suffragette. From all such, Good Lord, deliver us!
+A Nether-Applewhite girl, at the head of her class in school, had joined
+the Salvation Army, and now banged a tambourine in Southampton.
+Sometimes she wondered whether her own Lizzie mightn't have turned out a
+handful. Such a possibility almost resigned her to the loss of a child
+very precocious and with a strong will of her own. You will understand
+the temperament and character of Susan Yellam better if you grasp the
+fact that she endeavoured, habitually, to explain the mysterious
+workings of Providence both to herself and to her neighbours. She had
+been a devoted wife and mother, but, marking as she did the
+disconcerting changes in young women of her acquaintance, she was forced
+to the conclusion that many mothers profited by losing their prayers.
+God Almighty knew best. She addressed Fancy again:
+
+"You live in Salisbury?"
+
+"I do, Mrs. Yellam."
+
+"My son tells me that there be many radicals in the town."
+
+"I daresay."
+
+"Be you true blue or yaller?"
+
+"I don't quite understand."
+
+"Be you Conservative or Radical?"
+
+"My father is a Liberal."
+
+Alfred looked uneasy. As a carrier, seeking business where he could find
+it, and dealing impartially with all, he eschewed politics, and
+deprecated the discussion of controversial themes. He would have been
+amazed had a stranger informed him that his outlook on life was
+panoramic in comparison with his mother's. Coming to the rescue of
+Fancy, he said encouragingly:
+
+"So is Mr. Hamlin. He ain't the worse parson for that. As Mother knows."
+
+Mrs. Yellam nodded. A slight acerbity informed her voice as she answered
+her son:
+
+"Mr. Hamlin be a good man in parish, Alferd. 'Tis a square sound peg in
+a square hole. And I say this for 'un. He don't talk politics wi' me."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow interpolated slily:
+
+"Ah-h-h! Parson be a wise man too."
+
+Mrs. Yellam ignored this superbly. She looked at Alfred, but her remarks
+were addressed to Fancy.
+
+"We all knows that Mr. Hamlin is Radical, and 'tis a sore point wi'
+Squire and many others. I hold wi' the old ways, I do. I've no patience
+wi' mischief-makers, a-settin' class agen class, stirrin' up strife, and
+a-puttin' beggars on horseback. As for they jumped-up folks, sanding
+their sugar yesterday an' to-day peacocking along pretending to be
+quality, I fair hates the sight o' 'em. I wouldn't let a maid o' mine
+take service wi' such. All this talk about equality be foolish and
+contrary to Scrupture. There be gentle, and simple, rich and pore. And I
+takes it that pore means more nor poverty--pore o' purse, pore o' mind,
+pore o' body...."
+
+"And poor of soul," said Fancy.
+
+Mrs. Yellam turned sharply. But there was no offence in the girl's quiet
+voice. She lay back in her chair, listening attentively, obviously
+interested. Mrs. Yellam nodded.
+
+"And pore o' soul. You don't look, Miss Broomfield, as if you was
+ashamed o' service."
+
+"I ain't," said Fancy.
+
+"And I reckons you hold wi' me that folks should rest content in their
+proper station o' life, eh?"
+
+Fancy answered politely:
+
+"I heard a sermon preached on that in our cathedral."
+
+"Did 'ee now?"
+
+"Yes. Till I heard that sermon, Mrs. Yellam, I was never quite able to
+understand about doing my duty in that state of life unto which it
+should please God to call me."
+
+"'Tis plain as plain to me," said Mrs. Yellam.
+
+Fancy hesitated. She desired to please Alfred's mother. She was quick to
+realise how easily she might displease her. Being innately sincere, she
+continued bravely:
+
+"It seemed to me to be wrong not to want to better oneself, to rise
+higher...."
+
+As she paused, at a loss for words, Mrs. Mucklow interrupted with a hard
+laugh.
+
+"Right or wrong, we all feels that way. Susan Yellam don't fancy motors,
+but she'd like to ride in her carriage an' pair, and would too, if so be
+as a convict uncle from Australia left her a fortin'."
+
+Alfred said uneasily:
+
+"Now, Aunt Jane, you know we ain't got convict uncles t'other side of
+the world. What will Miss Broomfield be thinking of us?"
+
+To his astonishment and delight Fancy, not his mother, answered Mrs.
+Mucklow.
+
+"But that is what the preacher made so plain and comfortsome. He said
+that we were not to be content with the station to which we might be
+born, but content in that unto which God might call us. He might call us
+to a higher position, or to a lower. He might give carriages and horses,
+or take them away."
+
+Her gentle voice, so persuasive, so sincere, carried with it an
+extraordinary conviction. This simple explanation of a text familiar to
+anybody who has learnt the Catechism became instantly adequate.
+
+Mrs. Yellam, quite as sincere as Fancy, said quickly:
+
+"'Tis true. I never thought on't just that way. And 'tis fair, too. Let
+God's Will be done, whate'er betide." Her face brightened. She said
+almost joyously: "I shall ride in Alferd's new motor-'bus wi' proper
+pride now, feeling sure that God A'mighty called me to do so."
+
+Alfred beamed. Fancy, he perceived, had "made a hit." It might be
+prudent to take her away, and run no risks. If he and she resumed their
+walk, the elder women would discuss her handsomely. A favourable first
+impression might become indelible. He got up:
+
+"If you feel good and ready, Miss Broomfield, we might take the road
+again."
+
+"She be tired out," declared Mrs. Yellam. "Anybody but a man'd see that.
+You let Miss Broomfield bide along wi' us, Alferd; she can bide so long
+as she's a mind to."
+
+This was disconcerting both for Alfred and Fancy. Happily for them, Mrs.
+Mucklow espied an opening for contradiction. She exclaimed derisively:
+
+"What a notion, askin' a young maid to bide along wi' two old women,
+when every bird i' the trees is a-singing to his mate. But 'tis true,
+Miss Broomfield be leg-weary, after climbing our hills. Take her down
+river, Alferd. Do 'ee borrow the miller's boat."
+
+"That I will," said Alfred. "And glad he'll be to oblige me, too. Come
+on, miss. 'Tis only a step to the mill."
+
+The pair vanished. The elder women looked at each other.
+
+Mrs. Mucklow said slowly:
+
+"I be flambergasted, Susan."
+
+"So be I."
+
+"A very pretty, modest maid."
+
+"Alferd might do worse; I allows that."
+
+"So do I, Susan."
+
+Mrs. Yellam hesitated, and then said slowly:
+
+"Alferd be fair daffy about her, that's a fact. Miffed as I may well be
+at his choosin' a sweetheart who looks, seemin'ly, as if a puff o'
+wind'd blow her bang out o' parish, I sticks to what I says, the boy
+might ha' done worse."
+
+"Boy, indeed! He be a man."
+
+"'Tis true. And the multiplication-table, one might say, be made for him
+rather than her. Alfred did tell me las' night that an auntie, on her
+mother's side, bore twins twice. But as to that, we women be all in God
+A'mighty's hands."
+
+"Then Alferd have told 'ee as he wants her?"
+
+"Don't 'ee repeat it. He have."
+
+"Then he'll get her. A big strong feller like that feels wonnerful
+cuddlesome when he comes acrost they delicate, abstemious females. 'Tis
+as sartain as we be sitting here that he'll put the question in his own
+good time."
+
+Mrs. Yellam sighed.
+
+"We be on the skirts o' great happenings. If 'tis the Lard's Will, I
+have nothing to say."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+LE PAYS DU TENDRE
+
+
+During the month that followed, Fancy was very happy. Time stands still
+for true lovers. Past and future seem immensely remote; the present,
+with its rosy hours, holds captive the happy prisoners. Alfred, it is
+true, had not yet put his fate to more than the touch. He had encircled
+a slender waist with a reassuringly strong arm--no more. Being a Yellam
+and a carrier, he disdained haste. Fancy was well content to stroll arm
+in crook towards the altar. Indeed, upon more than one occasion she had
+checked Alfred when about to explode into speech. Behind this
+procrastination lay a maiden's quickening sense of the passion she had
+provoked. Men whom she regarded as "devils" had accused her of being
+prim and cold. She happened to be neither, but it delighted her to think
+that she inspired restraint in her lover, that he treated her with a
+delicacy less rare in big strong men than is generally supposed. His dry
+humour appealed to her, and the rude Doric of this remote Wiltshire
+village brought many a smile to lips that grew redder as kissing-time
+drew near. As yet Alfred had not kissed her, although he had kissed the
+_others_ many times. She gleaned this information from her fellow-maids,
+who were very sympathetic and, apparently, more impatient for a
+satisfactory consummation than the protagonists themselves.
+
+Meanwhile, Alfred was learning how to drive a motor, and becoming
+acquainted, very slowly but surely, with the "insides" of the great
+beast. Already he regarded it as human, and of the same sex as Fancy. He
+would say:
+
+"She was ramping and roaring yesterday afternoon and spitting black
+smoke at me. But when I coax her, she purrs sweet as any pussy-cat."
+
+Lively chaff was exchanged between the lovers upon fortunes told by real
+ladies, which turned out wrong. Fancy, however, still pinned her faith
+to an old pack of cards in her possession, and to appease her Alfred
+began to speak of himself as a soldier. When Fancy confided this to
+Molly, she said maliciously: "Soldier, eh? Well, he ain't one o' the
+'onward' sort, is he?" Fancy divined that Alfred would speak when the
+motor-'bus was delivered; and there were moments when she asked herself
+anxiously which of the two "hers" he loved the better.
+
+Toward the end of July, her mind was set at rest upon this point. After
+the first walk to the downs, Alfred discovered that Fancy tired easily,
+although her alert little mind remained active and indefatigable. His
+own brains moved slowly; frequently he was unable to follow the maid's
+divagations and speculations. For example, he had asked her soberly what
+she intended to mean by the expression a "poor soul," an expression used
+by him in an entirely different sense.
+
+"You came nigh upsetting Mother," he told her. "Dang me, if she didn't
+think 'twas a biff at her."
+
+"I meant a lean soul."
+
+"Whatever may that be, dear?"
+
+Always, when these problems presented themselves for solution, Fancy
+would hesitate and blush a little, which hugely delighted Alfred, who
+set himself the pleasant task of framing questions during his drives to
+and from Salisbury to be answered on the next Sunday.
+
+Having taken time to collect her powers of speech, Fancy said solemnly:
+
+"Some rich people as well as poor have lean souls."
+
+"Rich people? Do you know any rich people?"
+
+"No, but David says so."
+
+"David? You don't mean David Mucklow? He's a pore soul, sure enough."
+
+"I was speaking of King David, who wrote the Psalms. When people's
+bodies wax fat with riches, their souls grow lean."
+
+Alfred nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He weighed an honest
+fifteen stone.
+
+"Ah-h-h! They wax so fat that they stick in the Narrer Gate?"
+
+"Yes; I suppose so."
+
+Alfred considered this, frowning. Then his face brightened.
+
+"I see you slipping through that Gate like a lozenge."
+
+"Oh, please don't say that! 'Tis a figure of speech, Mr. Yellam. Thin
+people may have lean souls. I sometimes think that my soul is lean, when
+I lie awake thinking of--of----"
+
+"Of what, dear?"
+
+"Of myself, and what I want for myself."
+
+"What do you want?"
+
+"Lots and lots of things."
+
+She evaded further questions, arousing a keener curiosity. Her
+elusiveness frightened him. He couldn't understand anybody lying awake
+after an honest day's toil. He tried to picture her lying sleepless,
+with her luminous eyes gazing into the darkness. Did she think of him?
+Did she really want him as he wanted her? The mere thought of her frail
+little body aroused a strange reverence. His mother was right. A puff of
+wind would blow her out of parish, blow her out of sight, blow her bang
+through the Narrow Gate. And feeling this, with the stabbing,
+ever-recurring reflection that she was the least fleshly of mortal women
+whom he knew, he would not willingly have added half a cubit to her
+stature or half a pound to her weight. In his eyes, she was just right.
+
+Upon a never-to-be-forgotten Sunday, much rain had fallen. Fancy, who,
+like most servants, wore too thin shoes, perpetrated a mild joke:
+
+"'Twill be dryer on the river than on land, Alfred."
+
+For some time they had called each other by their Christian names.
+
+"You're right, Fancy."
+
+The motor-'bus, gloriously red-and-yellow, shining like a sunset, had
+been brought homealong the night before. Alfred shewed it to Fancy,
+expatiating upon its superlative merits and beauties till Fancy's
+jealousy was kindled afresh. Oddly enough, urban though the girl was and
+advanced in her ideas, she felt as Mrs. Yellam did about machinery.
+Whirring wheels and roarings and rampings aroused queer qualms in her.
+Alfred took out the heavy silver watch which had belonged to his father,
+and balanced it on the radiator. Then he proceeded to "race" the engine,
+although he had been advised not to do so. The watch never quivered, but
+Fancy did. She put her hands to her small ears, and ejaculated:
+
+"O-h-h!"
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+When the engine was purring gently, Fancy confessed that noise upset
+her. Pistols, for example, discharged suddenly in places of
+entertainment, made her jump. Alfred said derisively:
+
+"What a rare wife for a soldier!"
+
+"I thought 'twas going to explode, yes, I did."
+
+"Not she. 'Tis a beautiful 'bus, and, maybe, she'll carry me and
+mine"--he glanced at her now pensive face--"to fame and fortune."
+
+With this hope animating his heart and voice, Alfred spoke at length,
+and with impressive deliberation, mapping out a golden future. Already
+he had made arrangements to transport passengers to Salisbury, likely
+boys and girls anxious to attend the High School. He predicted an
+ever-increasing traffic and the almost immediate necessity of running
+two 'buses and engaging an assistant.
+
+"Maybe such a job would suit a young woman I know, Miss Fancy
+Broomfield."
+
+Fancy hastened to assure him that such ambitions soared high above her
+disabilities. Alfred continued, waxing very eloquent, letting loose
+amazing phrases, setting forth prospects which must please and allure
+his listener, talking at her so persistently that Fancy became
+frightened.
+
+"Alfred," she said, entreatingly, "don't make so sure of things."
+
+"'Tis in my hand."
+
+"I mind poor Father's plans, and that makes me nervous when you race on
+so."
+
+"What about his plans?"
+
+"He'd a nice business, shoeing the carriage horses of the quality. He
+never did fancy rough work. But it went to bits, when motoring came in.
+That lay back of his poor health. We never know what'll happen."
+
+"I say we do. God Almighty helps them as helps themselves. I'm helping
+myself to a large spoonful, but I can down it, and more too."
+
+Undeterred and undismayed by her protestations, he rushed on gaily, as
+if driving his 'bus at excess speed. To Fancy he seemed to be whirling
+out of sight altogether. Nevertheless she guessed that this
+nerve-racking, soul-jolting excursion into the future was presented as a
+joy-ride for her.
+
+"If you ain't careful," she warned him, "you'll fetch up in Buckingham
+Palace."
+
+At this derisive quip, he jammed on brakes, regaining her sympathy with
+the grim remark:
+
+"Or in a ditch. You're right, my girl. 'Tis a fool as toots his own
+horn. Let's say good-bye to the old van."
+
+The van stood derelict at the back of the shed; the stout horses had
+been sold at a fair price. Alfred locked up the door of the shed and
+glanced dubiously at the grey skies. The afternoon promised fine
+weather, but the grass in the park was sopping. Being a true Yellam,
+Alfred had made elaborate plans; he had chosen the spot where he meant
+to propose, a bosky nook in one of the smaller plantations, hard by a
+tiny stream, where ferns grew luxuriantly. In this sanctuary Fancy might
+be persuaded to take off her hat and gloves. Then, after due
+preliminaries, the man would have his way with the maid. He felt full of
+poetry, and quite incapable of expressing it.
+
+"Wet as water it be underfoot," he growled.
+
+And then Fancy made her small joke. Alfred jumped at the suggestion.
+Twenty minutes later, they were floating upon the quiet bosom of the
+Avon, where the river widened above the mill.
+
+"Perfectly lovely," murmured Fancy.
+
+Alfred nodded, with a heart too full for speech. The sight of his red
+face amused the maid. She knew well enough what was simmering beneath a
+too stolid exterior. He pulled up-stream with short, jerky strokes,
+effective but not elegant. His jacket lay across Fancy's knees, a
+protection against splashings. White shirt-sleeves bulged with big
+muscles. They were heading for a small willow-covered eyot, really--as
+Alfred reflected--a more secluded spot than the bosky dell. He could
+push the boat through the reeds and bulrushes and find snug harbourage
+under the willows.
+
+He did so.
+
+Secure from prying eyes, they sat together, side by side, at the bottom
+of the boat. Alfred slipped an arm round Fancy's waist, and pressed her
+to him. He wondered whether she would remain cool and calm, when the
+burning question was asked. With huge satisfaction he noticed that her
+bosom just heaved beneath her thin blouse. On this blouse rested a tiny
+gold locket which held the portrait of her sailor brother. Alfred had
+never seen this locket palpitate before. His own heart thumped almost
+indecorously at the sight. Stealing a glance at her face, he saw that
+she was blushing. The silence was so delicious that he hated to break
+it--and didn't. Certain carefully-prepared phrases whirled out of his
+mind.
+
+"My!" exclaimed Fancy.
+
+"What is it, dear?"
+
+"A big water-rat!"
+
+"So 'tis. I don't blame him for wishing to have a look at you."
+
+The rat behaved charmingly, peering down at them from the bank, ready to
+dive into his hole, if the trespassers upon his domain moved.
+
+"He ain't afraid," said Alfred; "but I am."
+
+Fancy said hastily:
+
+"Don't move! What bright eyes he has, to be sure."
+
+"No brighter than others I know."
+
+"Shush-h-h! There! He's gone. I wanted to see him stroke his whiskers. I
+wonder whether he be a gentleman rat or a lady rat?"
+
+This happy remark provided a new opening. Alfred said with authority:
+
+"He's a buck rat. He didn't feel frightened, but I reckon he'd told his
+missis and the little 'uns that he'd just take a squint at a notable
+couple, and come back. I'll wager a new hat, he's telling 'em a fine
+tale."
+
+"For all you know he may be an old bachelor."
+
+"Ah! Rats are wiser than we. And Nature is kinder to them. 'Tis no big
+business for them to get to house-keeping. When they're good and ready,
+they go at it--slam bang."
+
+"Yes. Animals don't want much."
+
+Alfred pressed her a little closer.
+
+"Take off hat and gloves, Fancy."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"'Tis a notion I have."
+
+She smiled faintly, and obeyed. Alfred eyed the hat, a simple affair,
+home-made. The gloves were of white silkette. Everything she wore seemed
+to be part of herself, dainty, ephemeral, easily crushed and soiled.
+
+"Put your dear head on my shoulder. 'Twill be more cosy."
+
+She hesitated, and did so. Her palely-pink cheek lay close to his lips.
+He said solemnly:
+
+"I mind what you said, Fancy, about lying awake nights, wanting lots and
+lots of things. Tell me about the things you want."
+
+"I c-c-can't."
+
+Her voice had sunk to an attenuated whisper. He realised that she was
+trembling, and his own pulses throbbed with hers. He continued, more
+fluently, pressing her tighter to him:
+
+"Are you wanting grand things?"
+
+"Oh, no. Whatever made you think so?"
+
+"Because, dear, there is something grand about you. It mazes me, when I
+think on't in my everyday way. You're Parson's parlourmaid, thank the
+Lord! and I'm a plain carrier, with no book-learning and rough manners.
+'Tis like this, Fancy. I'm of the earth, and you're a lil' angel.
+'Twouldn't surprise me to find wings growing on your dear back."
+
+He touched her back gently, to make sure. It was satisfactory to find
+that wings, as yet, had not sprouted.
+
+"I'm only a silly girl, Alfred."
+
+He repeated obstinately:
+
+"You're grand. I reckon 'tis your soul which comes nigh to busting your
+dinky body. Now, Fancy, what do you think about, nights?"
+
+Direct in all things, it never occurred to Alfred that a modest girl
+might shrink from answering such a question in the sincere spirit which
+put it. She smiled sweetly:
+
+"When we talked about that, Alfred, I was thinking amongst other things
+of...."
+
+"Yes, dear?"
+
+"That hat." She pointed a slim finger at it. "I wanted that hat ever so,
+because I saw one very like it on the pretty head of Mrs. Lionel
+Pomfret. I wrote a long letter to Father, telling him where to buy the
+straw and the trimmings. You like it, don't you?"
+
+"I never saw a prettier hat, but I like best the head as bobs under it."
+
+"It cost me four-and-eight; not a penny more."
+
+"Wonderful you be with your needle. Go on, Fancy. I reckon that hats
+ain't all you think about."
+
+"I think about Willie, tossing in his great ship."
+
+A consuming envy of Willie, the sailor brother, assailed Alfred, but no
+suitable phrase occurred to him. Fancy continued:
+
+"Most of the time, Alfred, my thoughts are with poor Father. He does
+miss me."
+
+"I'll be bound he does."
+
+"He enjoys such miserable health. He's a real farrier, doctors horses as
+well as shoes 'em. And he takes his own medicine. I used to water it
+down, unbeknown to him."
+
+"Horse medicine? That's moving stuff. Looks as if your thoughts, dear,
+never rambled far from the family."
+
+"Oh, yes, they do. I think a lot, Alfred, about the future."
+
+This was more encouraging.
+
+"So do I; so do I."
+
+"If anything happened to Father or Willie, where would I be?"
+
+Alfred replied happily:
+
+"I don't know where you would be, but I can tell you where you might
+be."
+
+His eager voice beguiled her, but she resisted its pleading.
+
+"I might be almost alone in the world. My two sisters are married. They
+live in small houses. There wouldn't be room for me. I like this place,
+but, oh, dear! some places be awful. It's selfish to think of myself,
+but I can't help it."
+
+"'Tis a heartsome thing to think about. I think about you, Fancy, when I
+drive slow along our roads. You fill my mind, you do."
+
+He hoped fervently that she would say what he wanted and confess
+outright that she let some of her thoughts dwell on him. But again the
+poor fellow was grievously disappointed. She murmured confusedly:
+
+"How funny!"
+
+"Funny be damned!"
+
+"Alfred----!"
+
+"I don't care. I'm moved as if I'd taken your father's horse medicine.
+You're raking me up with a small tooth-comb. If I think of you all the
+time, 'twould seem fair that you'd think of me some of the time."
+
+"Perhaps I do."
+
+"Ah-h-h! That's better. We're coming to grips."
+
+As if contradicting this, the aggravating witch raised her head. Alfred
+grew desperate. Had he been browsing in a fool's paradise? The thought
+palsied speech. He spoke angrily:
+
+"I see how 'tis. You lie awake shaking with laughter, thinking what I
+fool I am."
+
+"Gracious! If you talk like that, I shall think so."
+
+"I am a fool about you. 'Tis a fact. I ain't ashamed on't."
+
+"Folks say...." She hesitated; her eyes twinkled demurely, but he
+couldn't see them.
+
+"Well, what do folks say?"
+
+"That you're a oner with girls, on and off like."
+
+"On and off? You're throwing big Eliza at my head. If I was a true
+soldier man, always bragging about my victorious marches with women, I
+might tell you 'twas t'other way about. Being only a timorsome carrier,
+and a lover of God Almighty's truth, I say this. Eliza scairt the
+gizzard out of me, she did. I fair ran away from her audacious,
+ungenteel attacks. Now you have it."
+
+Fancy laughed. Alfred fumed on, beside himself with love and impatience.
+
+"I've walked out with many maids, some not so maidenly as might be. I'm
+a picker and chooser, getting that much sense from my mother. I never
+walked long with any of 'em. If you'd happened along fifteen years ago,
+when the first petticoat hit me in eye, I'd have remained true and
+faithful to you--so help me God!"
+
+She remained silent, twisting her fingers. He said hoarsely:
+
+"I want you desperately for my wife, Fancy Broomfield. And you know it,
+being a clever maid. Now--don't you want me?"
+
+He felt her body relaxing, almost slipping from him. Then, very slowly,
+she lifted her eyes to his, and he read in their luminous depths the
+blessed answer which her quivering lips withheld.
+
+He kissed her reverently and tenderly.
+
+To his surprise and delight, she kissed him, clinging to him, and
+whispering pantingly:
+
+"You'll be kind to me, Alfred; I know you will. I'm such a poor wife for
+the likes of you. Your mother thinks so, and your Aunt Jane."
+
+"You can twist them round your lil' finger."
+
+"I believe you love your motor-'bus more than me."
+
+"What a notion! Now I'm going to kiss such foolishness out of you. If it
+ain't gone when I've given you the first big dose, why, I must begin all
+over again."
+
+The river lapped its approval against the sides of the old boat. A sedge
+warbler looked on with his tiny head on one side. The tall reeds nodded.
+The sun peeped from behind a cloud and shot a golden shaft upon the
+pair. Why do we think of the orbéd maiden, the Moon, as being kinder to
+lovers than the great god of day, which warms and fructifies? Upon this
+artless pair he poured generously his vivifying beams. Suddenly the
+willows sparkled with diamonds, the grey river became a sheet of silver,
+the sedge warbler fluted his hymeneal note, and other warblers joined in
+the chorus.
+
+And, far away, in a great palace, men were bending frowning brows over a
+vast war-map, gesticulating fiercely, plotting and planning Armageddon.
+
+But the lovers had their hour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+UNCLE
+
+
+Everybody in Nether-Applewhite called Habakkuk Mucklow Uncle.
+
+In all villages remote from what we call civilisation there may be found
+men like him, loose-limbed, loose-tongued, easy, pleasure-loving,
+quick-witted in what concerns others, strangely slow to grapple with
+their own opportunities, always at the mercy of their wives and genially
+dependent upon them. Uncle was the best thatcher in the countryside. He
+might have been busy all the time, but it was known that he refused
+disdainfully the more primitive forms of his work; he never touched
+barns or stacks. On the other hand, he was artistically eager to tackle
+the decorative thatching which is still to be found in Wiltshire.
+Although he was older than his sister, Mrs. Yellam, and past sixty, he
+still ran afoot with the hounds, and earned handsome tips as an
+independent harbourer of deer. During many years, also, he had been
+"beater" to old Captain Davenant, who took out a Forest License from the
+Crown which afforded him three days' rough shooting a week, from October
+till the end of January. Nobody, in those parts, knew the northern half
+of the New Forest better than Habakkuk Mucklow.
+
+Like all his family, he was an upstanding fellow, a six-footer, and
+finely proportioned, with a cheerful red face, cleanly-shaven save for a
+wisp of grey whisker which he sported high on his cheek after the
+fashion adopted by the Iron Duke, whom Habakkuk venerated as the
+greatest of Englishmen. Had you told him that his hero came from
+Ireland, he would not have believed it.
+
+Uncle loved creature comforts, and could carry more strong ale without
+showing it than any man in the parish. Very wisely he had married Jane
+Rockley who, in her time, had served a long apprenticeship at Pomfret
+Court as scullery-maid and then kitchen-maid, becoming, finally, cook in
+that handsome establishment. Jane Mucklow ruled Habakkuk through his
+stomach, and he was well aware of this, and rebelled constantly against
+what he considered to be an abuse of power.
+
+"Womenfolk," he would remark, "don't wage honourable warfare. They hits
+below the belt, they do. When my old 'ooman gets miffed wi' me, I
+notices a tremenjous difference in my victuals."
+
+Uncle had pipeclay in his marrow. During his hot youth he had taken the
+Queen's shilling after a poaching affair, and served some five years
+with the colours of the county regiment. He had not seen active service,
+but he allowed strangers to believe that he was a great warrior.
+Possibly, the discipline of the parade ground had made him swear to take
+life easily for the rest of his days.
+
+Captain Davenant spoke of him as a "character." The word "card" was not
+known in Nether-Applewhite.
+
+Uncle loved two persons nearly as much as himself--his sister, Susan,
+and his nephew, Alfred. When the news of Alfred's engagement became
+known to him, he expressed great interest and pleasure, drinking the
+health of prospective groom and bride in much ale and cider. Alfred
+brought the blushing Fancy to Uncle's cottage, and received the
+felicitations which the good looks of the young woman warranted.
+
+Uncle had sentimental views about the married state not shared by his
+wife. As he kissed Fancy, he said solemnly:
+
+"'Tis a great venture. We all likes a dip into the lucky bag. And it do
+seem to me, Alferd, as you've pulled a prize."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow sniffed. She, too, kissed Fancy, but uttered a warning
+note:
+
+"Marriage ain't what some folks crack it up to be, my girl. But I've not
+a word agen courtship. Your uncle, as is to be, follered me about like a
+dog for three years, and I own up truthful 'twas the happiest time o' my
+life."
+
+Uncle laughed cheerily.
+
+"I be your old dog still, Jane, and allers ready for a bone."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow nodded, looking whimsically at Fancy.
+
+"You hear that, my girl? 'Tis the bone they look for. A man's heart lies
+in his stomach. Feed up Alferd so long as he behaves himself. I says
+nothing about the power o' prayer, seein' as generally speaking my most
+powerful prayers ain't been answered as I could wish, but fasting do
+wonnerful work, especially wi' men."
+
+Uncle laughed again.
+
+Marriage, however, seemed reasonably remote. Fancy wished to "make good"
+in her new place. Alfred, very comfortable at home, intended to work
+hard for a year at least, laying the solid foundations of a business
+likely to be bigger than he had ever dreamed it to be. Mrs. Yellam,
+moreover, had spoken plainly and sensibly to her son.
+
+"She be a sweet maid, Alferd, but tarribly spindlin', a slip o' muslin,
+and young for her years."
+
+"Twenty-two, Mother."
+
+"I knows that. And I minds that her mother died, pore soul, when Fancy
+was born. A bottle-baby; and I never did hold wi' that. Don't 'ee look
+so glum. She be plumper a'ready. Pa'son give his maids good plain food,
+and our air blowing over downs be better nor strong ale for such as
+she."
+
+"You do love her, Mother?"
+
+"In course I do, and I'm doing my duty by her and you when I tells 'ee
+that she ain't marriage-ripe, nor likely to be for many months to come.
+If I was only thinking o' myself, my son, I'd be laying out your wedding
+sheets this day. Squire and me has many things in common, and this afore
+all: we likes to see red-cheeked little 'uns coming on."
+
+"You're a wonderful, farseeing woman. Fair aching I am for her, the
+pretty dear, but wait we must for matrimonial joys, and wait we shall.
+That's certain."
+
+To his surprise, she laid her strong hands upon his shoulder and kissed
+him solemnly: demonstrations rare indeed with her, which provoked
+surprise.
+
+"Why, Mother!"
+
+She said slowly:
+
+"You be all I have, Alferd, and a son to be proud of as never was. I be
+farseein'. 'Tis a gift o' God. Biding for happiness, in the right
+Christian spirit, generally brings it, but not allers, not allers."
+
+With a sigh she turned to her daily work, and he went, thoughtfully, to
+his.
+
+July glided away peacefully. Wars and rumours of wars reached few ears
+in Nether-Applewhite. The possibility of civil war in Ireland disturbed
+Mr. Hamlin and provoked to wrath Sir Geoffrey Pomfret; the villagers
+remained blandly indifferent to anything outside the sphere of their own
+interests and activities.
+
+With the one exception of Uncle.
+
+Perhaps that old war-horse--for so he deemed himself to be--nosed from
+afar the coming battles. More than likely, he picked up chance words
+dropped by Captain Davenant, once a Guardsman, who rented two miles of
+fishing on the Avon, preserves under Uncle's watchful eye. The Captain
+predicted war with Germany as inevitable. Uncle, like his wife, could be
+trusted to repeat what he heard with sundry additions peculiarly his
+own. In the ale-house, he told his cronies what he knew and much more.
+
+"'Twill be a nice bloody how-dy-do; and it mads me to think that time,
+as the saying goes, have laid me by the heels. The Kayser be bent on the
+job, and have been ever since they ancient days, which I recalls right
+well, when he licked the Frenchies. A rare doin' he give 'em, to be
+sure."
+
+An old gaffer answered promptly, voicing, unwittingly, the general
+opinion:
+
+"'Tain't none of our affair. I be sick to my stomach wi' such
+flustratious talk. We English be the mightiest people on earth because
+we minds our own business. I don't think nothing o' foreigners; they be,
+one and all, so wonderful peevish."
+
+Uncle smiled genially.
+
+"Minds our own business, do us? I bain't so cocky-sure o' that, old
+friend. Speaking up for myself, and bigger fools have spoken in this
+ale-house, I be sartain sure that good money comes my way through
+minding other folks' business. I was never one to think of myself."
+
+"What a tale!"
+
+"The Captain be a dry old stick, but cracklin' wi' ripe wisdom, as I be.
+And he's seen the world, as I have. Stay-at-home folk never look further
+than their back-yards. I takes a very wide view. Me and Lord Roberts
+have sized up this yere Kayser for what he be, a very bumptious,
+slambang, bold pirate, a Grab-all as must be put in his place by we. And
+why? Because 'tis our duty and privilege to keep proper order. We had to
+down Krooger." He trolled out lustily:
+
+    "Good old Krooger's dead.
+     He cut 'is throat
+     Wi' a piece o' soap.
+     Good old Krooger's dead."
+
+"I'll drink one more glass o' ale afore I go homealong. Yes, my
+respectable, church-goin' friends, we be on the eve o' such battles as
+never was. And I couldn't hold up head amongst proper men, if I thought
+old England'd keep out o' the scrap. I practises what I preaches. I've
+three big sons--fair whoppers. If wanted, I'll see to it that they be
+amongst the first to go, and wi' all my honest, generous soul I wish I
+could go along wi' en."
+
+The publican, William Saint, who served the ale, said sharply:
+
+"Your sons, Uncle, may have something to say about that."
+
+Uncle stared at him disdainfully. William Saint was of
+Nether-Applewhite, but he had begun a prosperous career as a footman at
+Pomfret Court. Uncle despised lackeys in his heart. And he detested what
+he termed "quality talk" from people who were not quality. William Saint
+spoke mincingly, which indicated cant and prosperity. He was accused,
+not without reason, of holding radical views, although, being a
+time-server, he voted Conservative in accordance with the Squire's
+wishes. Nevertheless, Saint was not a man to be ignored or taken
+lightly. His tavern, the _Sir John Barleycorn_, did not engross all his
+activities. He had many small irons in the fire, bought and sold horses,
+dealt in corn and hay, and farmed a few acres of land. In appearance, he
+somewhat resembled Napoleon: the same massive jaw, the thin lips, the
+pale complexion and brooding brow. Under his management a small
+ale-house was becoming a rival of the principal inn, the _Pomfret Arms_.
+He catered for a better class of customer than his predecessor. And he
+saw possibilities in a tavern, happily situated in the middle of the
+village, overlooking the Avon, a comfortable house of call, clean
+outwardly and within, heavily-thatched, picturesque enough to catch the
+eye and beguile the fancy of the ubiquitous motorist.
+
+Uncle drank his ale before he answered Saint. The mighty draught
+restored his good-humour.
+
+"May be. I listens to all men, and suffers fools and knaves as gladly as
+King Solomon. The Kayser be spoiling for a big fight wi' we. You be on
+the side o' peace, William Saint, and there's many to keep 'ee company.
+I don't blame 'ee. 'Tis your ignorance. The country be full o' just such
+men as you, wi' their eyes glued to their own tills, and counters,
+mindin' their own business, pore souls! and puffed up wi' conceit." He
+paused and concluded impressively: "We be tee-totally unprepared, and
+there be millions over yonder a-waiting and a-longing to stick us like
+so many fat hogs. I wish 'ee, one and all, good-night."
+
+Uncle cocked his bowler--a genuine Billy Coke hat, with Lock's
+historical name on a much-soiled lining (the bowler had belonged to
+Captain Davenant)--at a martial angle, and strode to his cottage,
+whistling Garryowen. When out with the fox-hounds, he wore a stained red
+coat, another sometime hartog of the Captain's, surmounting well-cut
+breeches and gaiters, once again part of a generous employer's wardrobe.
+He was wearing the breeches and gaiters to-day, but his mind had
+wandered from sport to war. Tremendous military ardour possessed him. By
+the luck of things, on leaving the ale-house, he encountered Lionel
+Pomfret returning from fishing. Lionel had a great affection for Uncle,
+although he knew him to be a poacher on the sly. Uncle hailed him with
+respectful geniality, reasonably assured that five minutes' talk with
+t'young Squire meant more war news and a shining half-crown. On such
+occasions he employed a formula, rarely known to fail to open either
+hearts or purses.
+
+"How well 'ee look, Master Lionel! And Lard bless 'ee, I was thinkin' of
+'ee as you turned carner. Any fish this fine evening?"
+
+Lionel Pomfret opened his creel and displayed a nice brace and a half.
+But Uncle was in no mood to talk of trout. He had more notable fish to
+fry.
+
+"What be they Frenchies doing, sir?"
+
+Lionel answered gravely:
+
+"I hear that twenty thousand Germans have been repulsed at Nancy, but I
+don't believe it, Uncle."
+
+"No more don't I, Master Lionel. These be troublous times."
+
+Lionel nodded.
+
+"Be we coming in?"
+
+"Damn it, we can't keep out."
+
+"What I says exzactly. The Rads be kickin' up a fine hullabaloo--a very
+dirty, timorsome lot. And bound to crawl down the pole bimeby."
+
+"France is invaded," said Lionel.
+
+"Quick work, sir."
+
+"Quick? After forty years' elaborate preparation? This thing is horribly
+serious, Uncle. I'm wondering what they think about it in the village."
+
+"I can tell 'ee, no man better. 'Tis none o' their business, they
+thinks. Such shameless ignerunce makes wiser folk value their wisdom. I
+happened into the _Sir John Barleycorn_ just afore seein' you, sir. I'd
+a matter o' business wi' William Saint."
+
+Not for wealth untold would Uncle have admitted that he visited an
+ale-house to drink ale. Lionel smiled. He knew his man.
+
+"Very thirsty evening, too, Uncle."
+
+"I bain't denying that, Master Lionel. And I did take a glass o' what
+they calls ale there for the good o' the house. We fell to talkin'. I
+made bold to tell 'em what me and Lord Roberts felt about that there
+Kayser. And it miffed 'em. I could see that. And the less they pore
+souls says the more they thinks. They be chewin' my cud now. But what do
+'ee really think, sir?"
+
+Lionel laughed, not wholeheartedly. He was a six months' bridegroom.
+
+"I think, Uncle, that inside of a fortnight I shall be at my depot in
+Winchester, drilling recruits."
+
+"Lard save us! And you wi' so young and be-utiful a wife!"
+
+"Sir Geoffrey thinks as I do. There is going to be a terrific strain on
+the manhood of this country. Will it stand that strain?"
+
+"I thinks it will, Master Lionel, so be as they chin-wobblin'
+politicians keeps their dirty fingers out o' pie. I'd like to march wi'
+'ee to Winchester, and overseas, too, by Jo'!"
+
+Lionel nodded. A minute later Uncle strode on his way with the expected
+half-crown snug in his breeches' pocket. He told himself that he had
+earned it.
+
+When he reached his cottage, he found George, the youngest of his three
+sons, just back from the woods, where he worked as a hurdler at this
+time of year. The other sons were married and established in cottages of
+their own. Jane Mucklow was busy preparing the eight o'clock hot supper.
+An agreeable odour filled the kitchen. Uncle kicked the dust off his
+boots and entered the house, with George at his heels. The good smell of
+baked pork provoked, as usual, a pleasant word. Indeed, Habakkuk Mucklow
+had discovered very early in life that soft words do butter parsnips.
+
+"Well, Mother, you looks very sanitary, and what a colour!"
+
+"Got, as you well knows, from stewin' over a fire. Been painting your
+nose wi' ale, or worse, I reckons."
+
+Uncle stroked his nose.
+
+"'Tis a very handsome feature, Jane, and allers a true friend to your
+good cookin'. I met Master Lionel in village street, and let 'un know
+what a wise man was thinking about the times. Agreed wi' every word, he
+did. I told 'un he'd be called to jine up again in Winchester inside o'
+fortnit. Like as not Garge here'll be wearin' out shoe-leather in some
+barrack-yard afore he's much older."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow stared at him, paralysed by astonishment. George, being the
+most interested party, said heavily:
+
+"Not if I knows meself."
+
+"I say, Garge, as you'll enlist if they want 'ee."
+
+"They won't want the likes o' me."
+
+Jane Mucklow said sharply:
+
+"Don't you go upsettin' the boy wi' your ridiculous war-talk, Father. He
+come nigh on leavin' us to freeze to death in Canady. Why should we
+fight to save they Frenchies?"
+
+Uncle grinned and chuckled.
+
+"Ah-h-h! I've a notion about that. I told 'un to the old Captain, and he
+said 'twas a very notable remark. Fight we shall and must to save our
+own souls and bodies."
+
+George opened a wide mouth; his mother laughed scornfully.
+
+"Never heard o' the British Fleet, I suppose?"
+
+Uncle smiled. Such a smile might have been seen upon the face of Ulysses
+after his wanderings, when Penelope asked foolish question.
+
+"Mother, I've seen they mighty ships o' war, which is what you can't
+brag on. But more'n our Fleet were wanted afore, in the days o'
+Bonaparty, and will be again. You mind that bit o' pork, and leave young
+Garge to me."
+
+He gave undivided attention to George; the pleasant smile faded from his
+face. His likeness to his sister came out.
+
+"Be you afeard, Garge?"
+
+George pulled himself together.
+
+"I be bold as brass, except wi' maids."
+
+"That any son o' mine should own up to that! Afeard wi' maids! What a
+gert booby! I be afeard _for_ maids, if so be as they Proosians come
+rampin' into France. And 'tis true they be over the line a'ready."
+
+"How do 'ee know that?" asked his wife.
+
+"Never you mind, Mother. I picks up my information as you does, here and
+there. I told Master Lionel as how France was invaded, and he gave me
+half-a-crown, he did."
+
+Uncle produced the half-crown as confirmation strong. George was much
+impressed.
+
+"You earns money in wondersome ways, Father."
+
+"I do. Now, Garge, I tell 'ee, fair and square, the likes o' you'll be
+wanted bad, and, mark my words, my lad, if you don't go willin' they'll
+take 'ee whether or no. I forgot to mention it to Master Lionel, but
+talk o' conscription be in the air."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Mucklow.
+
+Uncle, fully alive to the advantage of leaving people to chew the cud of
+his wisdom, went outside to smoke a pipe before supper. He walked down
+the village street, carrying a high head and assuming the port of Mars.
+Bugles sounded in his ears, and the steady tramp of marching men. He had
+picked up the significant and terrifying word "conscription" from
+Captain Davenant, who asked for nothing better. Uncle had agreed with
+the Captain heartily, being very sensible of what drill had accomplished
+for himself, much as he hated it at the time. He thought of George as
+clay to the hand of a sergeant, not as cannon fodder. "Afeard wi'
+maids!" What a confession!
+
+He was not in the mood to engage others in talk, lumping all his
+neighbours together as a flock of silly snivelling sheep, sadly in need
+of a shepherd. For the first time in his life he paid the penalty of
+being a prophet, and felt strangely alone and unhonoured.
+
+Suddenly he bethought him of his sister Susan. He had half-an-hour to
+spare before supper. She would be busy in her kitchen, but never too
+busy to exchange a word with him. Alfred would be still on the road. He
+strode along more briskly. Susan was the one person living with whom
+Uncle was really himself, at best or worst a very simple,
+straightforward soul. He had never posed before her and--what a tribute
+to her character!--in her rather austere presence he avoided those
+whimsical perversions of the truth which so exasperated his wife. To a
+woman of brains he bowed the knee. Also, he was gratefully aware of
+Susan's enduring affection for him.
+
+He wondered how she would take his news, for news it would be, that the
+Squire and Master Lionel were grimly confronting the certainty of
+England declaring war upon Germany. Susan read her _Daily Mail_, but not
+with any great faith in what newspaper men said. Having a singularly
+retentive memory, she prided herself upon collating contradictory
+statements made by irresponsible writers. Such critical powers were not
+exercised upon the Bible. Apparent discrepancies in the Holy Book could
+be, and were (so she held) reconciled by surpliced commentators.
+
+Susan, so Uncle reflected, would deal out strong doses of commonsense,
+which her brother, after due absorption, could in his turn distribute
+generously amongst the weak-kneed. There were moments when pity for his
+fellow-men overbrimmed in Uncle's heart, and filled him with an
+amorphous, inherent melancholy. He could rise to giddy heights of mirth
+and fall from them into unplumbed depths of depression. Susan, as he
+knew, stood solidly between these extremes.
+
+He was in the melancholy mood when he entered her kitchen.
+
+"Well, Susan, there be a nice bit o' pork frizzlin' in our oven, but I
+be in sore need o' spiritual nourishment."
+
+"Whatever ails 'ee, Habakkuk?"
+
+"'Tis the crool thought o' weepin' maids and mothers throughout the
+land, as robs me o' my appetite."
+
+For the moment Uncle spoke with absolute sincerity. The thought of a
+nation in mourning had not entered his mind till he crossed the
+threshold of the Yellam cottage. But he accepted it as illuminating.
+And, instantly, his imagination draped the idea in deepest crêpe.
+
+"Be you speaking o' French maids and mothers?"
+
+"Being the man I am, I counts 'em all in wi' us. 'Tis cut-and-dried, as
+the saying goes. Old England takes the field."
+
+Susan Yellam said drily:
+
+"Old England takes the field. Well, dearie, you take a chair and tell us
+all about it."
+
+Incredulity was written plain upon her face. Uncle opened fire at
+point-blank range.
+
+"Sir Gaffrey says so, Susan. Master Lionel be hot-foot for Winchester,
+to drill recruities."
+
+The shot went home. Mrs. Yellam's florid face paled. She had
+deliberately put from her the dreadful possibility. But if Sir Geoffrey
+said so, it was so. The blood left her face, because her first thought
+had been for the gracious lady of the Manor, and the young wife, two
+women very dear to her. As the colour came back to her cheeks, she
+reflected that she, personally, was not involved in these fearful
+issues. Mr. Lionel was a professional soldier. Wife or no wife, a
+Pomfret would do his duty. England's army might have to fight side by
+side with the French, and England's army was invincible.
+
+She said gravely:
+
+"We be in God A'mighty's hands."
+
+Uncle sat down, assuming a funereal expression which sat oddly upon his
+somewhat comical countenance. He did not share his sister's faith in an
+All-wise and Merciful Providence. Strong ale, perhaps, had weakened it,
+and over-indulgence in flesh-pots. But he dared not contradict his
+sister.
+
+He fired another shot.
+
+"Captain Davenant be sartain sure that our noble army be too small for
+such a tremenjous affair. He goes further than that, Susan. I wouldn't
+deceive 'ee or try to frighten 'ee for a barrel o' ale, but he be
+flustratingly positive that we be drawn into the bloodiest war as never
+was, and he do say that God A'mighty fights on the side o' the biggest
+army. His tarr'ble words, Susan, not mine. There be millions o'
+Proosians marchin' into France this very day, and the Captain says they
+Frenchies bain't ready for 'em."
+
+He expected a cooling stream of comfort and a rebuttal of what the
+Captain said. If anybody could stand up against so redoubtable a
+personage it would be Susan Yellam. She said slowly:
+
+"The Captain says that our army be too small! The King'll have to call
+for--millions?"
+
+Uncle nodded dolorously. To his utter amazement and confounding, Susan
+raised her apron, and covered her face with it.
+
+The abomination of coming desolation overwhelmed both of them.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+FIRST IMPRESSIONS
+
+
+Uncle was quick, like all practised orators, to realise the effect of
+his words not only upon a sister, but upon himself. He emerged from the
+depths, as a swimmer after a dive, shaking his head and opening his
+mouth to the ambient air. A happy thought occurred to him.
+
+"Susan," he said, in a more cheerful voice, "I be mazed as you be, but
+things bain't so dark as they seem, and I've Squire's own word for it
+that figures lie to beat Satan hisself."
+
+Mrs. Yellam looked at him interrogatively.
+
+"I be allers, so to speak, a very calkilatin' man, rampaged by Fortin
+into makin' sixpence do duty for a shillin'. Now, I asks you this, and I
+means to put the question, fair and square, to Captain Davenant
+to-morrer marning. 'Tis a common saying that one Englishman be so good
+as ten Frenchies in a stand-up fight. That be a very comfortsome
+thought, old girl."
+
+"Which I don't hold wi', for one."
+
+"Don't 'ee? I wager the half-crown Master Lionel gi' me that you be the
+equal o' ten Frenchwomen, and, old as I be, I'd fair scorn to turn back
+on any 'arf-dozen furriners. If so be as my calkilatin' ain't out o'
+whack, our noble army o' two hundred thousand valiant souls be more'n
+equal o' two million Frenchies. And, if that be so, the Germans be up
+agen four millions in all. Leastways, if I bain't out in my figurin'."
+
+Mrs. Yellam smiled faintly.
+
+"Your figures, Habakkuk, be Satan's figures. I allows that one true
+Englishman can down three Frenchies, not more. Men'll be wanted--and
+soon."
+
+Uncle remarked mournfully:
+
+"Such talk takes away my appetite for cracklin'. I go my ways, dear,
+leavin' this mossel o' comfort behind me: they won't be askin' for
+widows' only sons. Good-night to 'ee."
+
+After Uncle's departure Mrs. Yellam busied herself with her work,
+pausing now and again to sigh deeply. If Sir Geoffrey Pomfret said that
+England was coming in, why, England was in. A doubtful hypothesis became
+certainty. And some widows' sons, if she knew her countrymen, would
+fight for England, tooth and nail, even if they were not directly asked
+to do so.
+
+Presently Alfred appeared, sharp-set after a good day's business. He
+repeated the gossip of the market-place. Russia was going to surprise
+the world. England must come in. A greengrocer, on intimate terms with a
+lady of quality, had told him as a secret that the Guards were already
+embarking for Belgium. Alfred concluded cheerfully:
+
+"In Salisbury, Mother, 'tis agreed that six weeks'll see the end on't."
+
+"Captain Davenant be talkin' o' conscription, Alferd."
+
+"Let him talk. He's a sour man. I put my faith in God Almighty, not in
+the likes of him."
+
+"Ah-h-h!"
+
+"I say to myself, in all Christian humility, that God Almighty in His
+wisdom is fair fed up with the Proosians. Such talk as they use, all
+spitting and choking, is quite enough to sicken ordinary folks. 'Tis the
+swelled head that this Kayser has. However, wiser men prophesy a rare
+uplifting move in trade."
+
+"Alferd--don't talk o' that. 'Tis more than I can bear to hear o' folks
+makin' money out o' the miseries o' others."
+
+He stared at her, noticing at last her drawn expression.
+
+"You ain't got the headache, Mother?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Wouldn't own up to it, if you had. Something's gnawing at you."
+
+Very gravely she told him about the young Squire. Alfred's face fell,
+thinking of Joyce Pomfret, and then of Fancy. What would that pretty
+dear be feeling, if her Alfred was on the march? The light faded from
+his rubicund face. Till that moment the possibility of going had never
+occurred to him. If England did take a hand in the mighty game, surely
+her Army and Fleet would suffice for all eventualities. Suddenly, he
+banged the table with his clenched fist, startling his mother.
+
+"Alferd--!" she exclaimed irritably.
+
+Alfred hastened to apologise. A confounding thought had begotten a
+thoughtless action. He said earnestly:
+
+"Fancy is a oner for telling fortunes with cards."
+
+Mrs. Yellam frowned. Cards she held to be playthings of Satan, expressly
+invented by him together with strong drink and bad women. Alfred
+continued hastily:
+
+"A lady in Salisbury, real quality, Mother, told Fancy's fortune."
+
+"Did she? Better be using her needle, I says."
+
+"No doubt. 'Tis a very odd thing, and food for sober thought, but the
+lady did foretell as Fancy'd marry a soldier."
+
+"A very foolish, mischievous notion to put i' the maid's head."
+
+Alfred nodded. Then he said portentously:
+
+"It might come true, Mother, if the pessimists be right."
+
+"Pessimists?"
+
+"'Tis a new word to me, and means--crokers, as looks on the dark side of
+the cloud."
+
+"Well, what do they tell 'ee?"
+
+"'Twas a solitary he. A shoemaker by trade, and a radical. The smell of
+leather be enough to account for his politics and gloomy views. When I
+take shoes to him, we always pass time o' day, and I come away thinking
+'tis just before dawn on a cold, drizzling, November morning. He says to
+me: 'My lad, these Proosians may be drinking ale in Salisbury before
+this war's over.' I laughed at him. And he told me I'd laugh t'other
+side of my face in six months."
+
+Mrs. Yellam made no comment, a strange abstention. Her firm jaws set
+beneath strongly-marked brows, her eyes glowered into the future. Mother
+and son finished the meal in silence.
+
+These things were talked over on Monday, the 2nd of August.
+
+On the Wednesday all England knew that we were at war with Germany.
+
+The first effect of this stupendous happening was comical. The banks
+were closed; many people found themselves without money and unable to
+borrow it. Fishpingle, the bailiff at the Home Farm, had to lend Lionel
+Pomfret five pounds to take him to Winchester. Some pessimists predicted
+a financial panic. The foreign stock exchanges transacted no business.
+All this affected Nether-Applewhite but mildly; tongues wagged a little
+faster than usual; very few believed that an Expeditionary Force would
+be sent to France. Sir Geoffrey Pomfret walked down to the village and
+talked with his people. His jolly face and hearty voice indicated
+immense relief. He--and thousands like him--had been tormented by the
+fear that a nation stigmatised as shopkeepers would place self-interest
+before honour. He writhed when he recalled the cynical gibe of the
+Russian to England's ambassador at a time when England did "keep out."
+Old Captain Davenant and the Squire were types of men whom the more
+Radical press derided as reactionary and fire-eaters. Let the verdict of
+history speak for such after the war. Few, to-day, will deny that the
+privileged classes with most at stake stood shoulder to shoulder in
+their determination to scrap everything except scraps of paper bearing
+England's sign-manual.
+
+The villagers listened agape to Sir Geoffrey and Captain Davenant. Then
+each went his way perfectly satisfied that others would dance to war's
+pipings and alarums, whilst they "carried on" as before.
+
+Old Gilbert Parish, a great-granfer, was convinced that war had been
+declared with the hereditary foe. He asked Mr. Hamlin shrilly, holding
+hand to ear:
+
+"What I wants to know, Pa'son, be this--whatever shall we do wi' they
+Frenchies when us have beat'h 'em?"
+
+Mr. Hamlin answered gravely: "I suppose we shall have to eat them,
+Master Gilbert."
+
+The nonagenarian displayed toothless gums.
+
+"Ah-h-h! That's what the Dook said at Waterloo. 'Up, Guards, and eat
+'en,' he says. _And they did!_"
+
+"Was you there, Granfer, on that notable day?" asked a bystander.
+
+The old fellow cackled joyously.
+
+"'Tis so far back along, I disremembers. To speak sober truth, my lad,
+the Dook won that gert battle wi'out me. 'Tis a fact beyond gainsayin'
+that I be here, and hale and hearty, because, maybe, I was not there."
+
+His humour so tickled him that he hobbled forthwith to the _Sir John
+Barleycorn_ to wet a still serviceable whistle. Many followed his
+example; the two taverns sold much ale.
+
+In a miraculously short time village life ambled on as before. The small
+boys played at soldiers; some of the more prescient mothers laid in
+stores. Lionel Pomfret returned from Winchester with the assurance, hot
+from the mouth of the officer commanding the dépôt, that every regular
+would be sent abroad. The Squire was absorbed in the details. Each
+officer would be allowed thirty pounds of kit, such kit to be snugly
+packed in a pale-green carry-all. It comprised one change, two blankets,
+a few surgical dressings, a folding-lamp, a pair of wire-cutters, and
+under-linen. The Territorials and Yeomanry would defend our shores.
+According to experts, invasion might be deemed practicable, if unlikely.
+Next day Lionel went to London, to the War Office. He came back with a
+Captain's commission.
+
+The Government had taken over the railroads, and, at first, trains were
+inconveniently belated. Liège was covering herself with imperishable
+glory, holding up hordes of Germans. In the rural districts the
+comforting impression prevailed that the All-Highest War Lord had gone
+stark, staring mad, and that a peace-loving nation would kick him and
+his out of the country. Hamlin, reading feverishly papers and reviews,
+neglecting, for the first time in his life, parochial duties, rejoiced
+in the premature conclusion that there burned no hate in English hearts
+against the German people to whom civilisation owed so much. He
+adumbrated peace before Christmas, and believed that a world-war would
+end war. For a parish priest, he might be reckoned, intellectually, far
+above the average. Men of keener and bigger brains shared his views. Sir
+Geoffrey Pomfret, as might be expected, thought otherwise. There is no
+pessimist like your optimist when he finds that the prognostications of
+his less robust moments have come to pass. He said almost truculently to
+his wife:
+
+"It is some comfort to reflect, my dear Mary, that _we_ were right, and
+all these axe-grinding demagogues wrong. I could hang Haldane with my
+own hand. And I feel in my bones that this is going to be a long
+business--a full year at least."
+
+The Squire was sorely taken aback, when Lord Kitchener trebled this
+estimate. He cursed politicians of his own party when Namur fell.
+Indeed, he blamed politicians and publicists of every colour and creed,
+pinning his faith to Army and Navy, sorely disgruntled with the Foreign
+Office and the Diplomatic Service. No more unhappy man gazed across his
+broad acres wondering miserably whether they would be his in three
+years' time.
+
+There ensued, as will be remembered, an amazing epidemic of national
+apathy, which aroused trenchant criticism in neutral countries. People
+bought maps and pins, and forgot to move the pins. Small things became
+again of paramount importance. The King had demanded half a million more
+regulars. But business went on as usual. A famous scribe has chronicled
+the supreme event of this transition period. Carpentier defeated
+Bombadier Wells! Possibly, the general indifference, an indifference
+largely due to ignorance, was superficial. It is significant that
+thousands of holiday-makers returned quietly to their own homes.
+
+Lionel Pomfret and his wife moved to Winchester, where Lionel was kept
+busy at the dépôt. For the moment, his own battalion of the Rifle
+Brigade was in India. Another battalion had joined the Expeditionary
+Force. Lionel might be called upon to join it at twenty-four hours'
+notice. Joyce Pomfret, his wife, perceived that he wanted to do so.
+
+An American, with the liveliest powers of observation, visiting
+Nether-Applewhite, and talking, let us say, to Mrs. Yellam and Fancy,
+would have gone away convinced that both these women, each the
+antithesis of the other, were unconcerned with the war. Really the
+thought of it obsessed them night and day. But they rarely spoke of it.
+Mrs. Yellam deliberately put from her the possibility of losing her son,
+partly because she had a positive assurance from the Parson that Alfred,
+as a public carrier, would be exempted from military service if
+conscription became necessary, and partly because the fact that she
+tended four graves in the churchyard must surely be taken into account
+by an All-wise and Merciful Providence. Like most of us, she had
+constructed her own particular statute of limitations and liabilities.
+She had endured more than her proper share of bludgeonings. Accordingly,
+her mind dwelt upon the war as affecting others. She grieved for Lady
+Pomfret and the Squire. If Master Lionel were taken--! The only son and
+heir to such a fine property--!
+
+Fancy, sister of a beloved brother serving in a battleship, fell a prey
+to more intimate and poignant considerations. As the child of a delicate
+mother who had died in giving her birth, pre-natal influence, perhaps,
+had endowed her with sensibilities common to all women who are
+physically weaker than they should be, with minds and imaginations more
+active than their bodies. From her tenderest years Fancy had indulged in
+meditations concerning angels. Her father habitually spoke of his wife
+as an angel hovering close to one whom she had never held in her arms.
+Fancy believed him absolutely. Darkness had no terrors for the child,
+when she went to bed, because, in addition to her mother, the four
+evangelists guarded her cot. She was quite positive that she had seen
+her mother, clothed in shining tissues, with wings like a dove. Matthew,
+Mark, Luke and John became personal friends with whom the mite affirmed
+solemnly that she talked and played. Her father, a dreamer rather than a
+doer, encouraged these fancies, which justified his selection of her
+Christian name in obstinate defiance of the wishes of his family.
+
+The first effect of the war upon Fancy, apart from her sisterly
+anxieties, was a tightening of the bond between master and maid. Mr.
+Hamlin held strong democratic opinions, a source of friction between
+himself and Sir Geoffrey Pomfret. He desired ardently a more equable
+distribution, not merely of wealth, but of health and intelligence. He
+believed absolutely in the equality of souls before God, and he
+recognised with ever-increasing satisfaction the potentialities of
+bodies and minds, if taken in hand early in life. His disabilities as a
+teacher shewed themselves in a too direct manner of speech, an
+abruptness caused by an excess rather than a lack of sympathy and
+perception. As Man and Priest, he shunned those easy by-paths beloved by
+many of us when we have disagreeable duties to perform. He marched
+straight to his objectives, regardless of objections.
+
+At first sight, Mr. Hamlin recognised in his parlourmaid qualities of
+which she herself was delightfully unconscious. As parson of a country
+parish which outwardly and inwardly had changed but little since the
+eighteenth century, he had fought desperately against the mental and
+spiritual apathy of his flock, seizing any weapon that lay to his hand.
+He worked with people for people, using Peter to convert Paul,
+constantly disappointed but rarely discouraged. He had been offered
+preferment; his sermons challenged interest outside Nether-Applewhite
+but he had no personal ambition beyond the consuming desire to help
+those whom he knew and loved to help themselves. Sir Geoffrey Pomfret
+supported him in this, but Parson and Squire worked upon diametrically
+opposing lines. All the instincts of the lord of the manor were
+protective. To that end he had made and was prepared to go on making
+personal sacrifices of leisure, pleasure and money. According to Hamlin,
+this encouraged helplessness and ignorance. Poverty held out eager hands
+for doles, displaying that comical form of gratitude which has been
+defined as a lively sense of favours to come.
+
+Hamlin, in common with most sincere reformers, divided the world into
+two classes--the helpers and hinderers. Between these lay, of course, a
+No Man's Land, where each class wandered aimlessly; the helpers, like
+the Squire, became hinderers and hinderers, like Uncle, might become,
+unexpectedly, helpers. Fancy, he acclaimed as a helper in or out of the
+debateable territory. Insensibly, her refinement and modesty would raise
+the tone in his kitchen, and radiate purer beams from a house hospitably
+accessible to all his congregation. From time to time, when he was alone
+at meals, he would ask the maid odd questions, and listen attentively to
+her replies. Such questions were disconcerting to Fancy, but, as was
+intended, they provoked intelligence to answer them. Ever since
+ordination, Hamlin had realised the almost insuperable barriers
+interposed by tradition, by training, by a thousand and one conditions
+and consequences, between the privileged and unprivileged classes. From
+the first he had set himself the task of breaking down such barriers. He
+candidly admitted that most of his parishioners were liars and
+hypocrites when it came to dealing with them frankly as between man and
+man, and still more so as between man and woman. They said,
+respectfully, what each felt that the Parson wished them to say,
+repeating the old shibboleths and sesames which opened, possibly, purses
+but not hearts.
+
+After the fall of Namur, he said to Fancy:
+
+"Do you feel patriotic?"
+
+The question of patriotism had been raised (and not laid) by a publicist
+in one of the current reviews, but the writer had presented a point of
+view coloured and discoloured by intimate knowledge of industrial
+England. He had not touched upon his theme as it affected the rural
+districts.
+
+"I hope so, sir," replied Fancy.
+
+"How far, I wonder, would your patriotism carry you?"
+
+He knew that Fancy was engaged to Alfred Yellam, and had congratulated
+her sincerely. He knew, also, that she had no intention of getting
+married for some time to come.
+
+Fancy stood at attention, much perplexed, but flattered. She had wit
+enough to realise that her master put the question in certain faith that
+she would endeavour to answer it truthfully.
+
+"I can't tell," she faltered. "Sounds silly, don't it, sir?"
+
+"Not at all. I am wondering how far my patriotism would carry me. What
+is patriotism, Fancy?"
+
+"Love of country, sir."
+
+"Why do we feel it?"
+
+His keen eyes rested quietly on hers.
+
+Fancy grappled with this, struggling to rise adequately to the occasion.
+
+"I suppose 'tis gratitude, sir."
+
+"Good. But gratitude is imponderable." For an instant he had forgotten
+that he was talking to his parlourmaid. Beholding a wrinkle, he said
+quickly: "I mean, that gratitude is not easy to weigh or measure. It is
+immense," he smiled at her, "when it marches hand in hand with
+self-interest. It shrinks horribly when self-interest marches or runs in
+the opposite direction. Do you follow me?"
+
+"Yes, sir; thank you, sir."
+
+"Don't thank me," he said, with a touch of irritation. He continued
+quietly: "We must all try to weigh our patriotism, because every one of
+us will be asked to exercise it. Leaving out the men able to bear arms,
+I am thinking for the moment of the women, young and old. An immense
+burden is about to be imposed on them. That is why I am speaking to you.
+I held the mistaken view that this war would soon be over. But it is
+plain that we are fighting an enemy overwhelmingly strong, who is
+setting all laws, human and divine, at defiance. I want to measure our
+patriotism, my own, yours, everybody's; but I do so in fear and
+trembling."
+
+Fancy, outwardly calm, presenting the impassive mask of the well-trained
+servant, became conscious of tingling and throbbing pulses. A strong man
+appeals most strenuously to the sympathy of a woman, when he permits her
+to have a glimpse of his weakness. She spoke impulsively, quite
+forgetting her "place," as she told herself afterwards.
+
+"You be thinking of Mr. Edward."
+
+It was a flash of intuition.
+
+The Parson had four stout sons, but Teddy, the youngest, was his
+Benjamin. Teddy and Joyce had inherited from Mrs. Hamlin joyous
+temperaments. The other sons resembled their father. All of them were
+"doing well" in a worldly sense. The eldest was a don at Cambridge,
+Fellow and Tutor of his College. The others were in business, climbing
+hand over hand the commercial ladder. Teddy, with not so good a start as
+his brothers, had entered the Railway Service. Since Fancy's arrival at
+the Vicarage he had spent a too short holiday at home. His jolly,
+unaffected ways captivated Fancy instantly. Life, as the maids put it,
+entered a dull house and filled it with sunshine. Teddy brought with him
+to Nether-Applewhite wonderful news. He had been offered and had
+accepted a billet worth four hundred a year--startling advancement for
+so young a man. His unaffected joy in his own good fortune warmed all
+sympathetic hearts.
+
+The Parson looked up sharply.
+
+"Yes," he answered curtly. He had finished breakfast, but still sat at
+table. Fancy saw that he was nervously crumbling a small piece of bread.
+
+"But Mr. Edward won't have to go, sir."
+
+Hamlin hesitated. But, inviting confidence, he was not the man to
+withhold it churlishly. He said slowly:
+
+"Between ourselves, Fancy, Mr. Edward wishes to go. I have a letter from
+him this morning, asking for my advice on the subject. It means, for him
+and me, a great sacrifice."
+
+Fancy gasped.
+
+"Oh, dear! You'll never let him go--surely?"
+
+Hamlin rose, a tall, gaunt figure.
+
+"My patriotism," he said grimly, "is not quite so lively, Fancy, as it
+was last night."
+
+He went out of the room. Fancy began to clear away the breakfast things,
+much troubled, sorely perplexed, alive to her finger-tips with the
+dismal consciousness that life had become suddenly confoundingly
+difficult. If Alfred took a notion to enlist, and if he consulted her
+about it, as surely he would, to what sort of strain would her
+patriotism be subjected? She, too, approached the question in fear and
+trembling. At the moment "things," as she vaguely expressed it, were
+going better and better for Alfred. War seemed to have oiled all
+commercial wheels. On Sundays her happy swain soared into an empyrean of
+prosperity and opulence where he sat enthroned high above her, talking
+exuberantly of a future she dared not envisage. The good fellow assured
+her that the Germans would soon be on the run, with English sabres
+hewing them down, with English bayonets in their fat backs. Would such a
+man, travelling at excess speed into Tom Tiddler's Ground, fingering
+daily larger and ever larger pieces of silver and gold, stop suddenly
+and abandon everything?
+
+He might.
+
+If patriotism seized him, as it had seized Mr. Edward, the strangling
+grip would choke ambition, self-interest, and woman's love.
+
+She told herself miserably that Mr. Edward would go. More, his father
+would not raise a finger to stop him. As the Parson left the
+dining-room, she guessed that his decision had been made already.
+
+Within a week it became common knowledge in the village that Mr. Edward
+Hamlin had enlisted in the Guards. He would appear amongst his father's
+parishioners in a private's kit, and salute respectfully his old friend,
+Captain Pomfret.
+
+He was the first "gentleman" in those parts to relinquish fortune at the
+call of duty. And his shining example, so his father perceived, had
+moved mountains of too solid flesh. As yet the great recruiting campaign
+had not begun.
+
+Two days afterwards George Mucklow followed the parson's son into the
+ranks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+SECOND IMPRESSIONS
+
+
+August--with its stupefying surprises, disappointments, and
+acrimonies--drew to a close. The black Sunday, at the end of the month,
+will never be forgotten by those who happened to be in London at the
+time. For a few terrible hours it was said that our Expeditionary Force
+had been annihilated. In the evening an official contradiction lifted
+the town out of a pea-soup fog of despair.
+
+Day by day, the Hun hordes advanced. Sir Geoffrey devoured his morning
+papers, talked over the immeasurable possibilities with his wife and
+Fishpingle, and finally determined to tap fresh information at its
+source. He went up to London, spent three days at his clubs, and
+returned to Nether-Applewhite an angry and disillusioned man. Having
+many friends in high places, some of them old schoolfellows and kinsmen,
+who had become pale and anxious Cabinet Ministers, he buttonholed them
+all, demanding the truth in his jovial, autocratic fashion.
+
+"A damned lot of Mandarins," he told his wife, "nodding their confounded
+heads and saying nothing. At the club, by Jove! I felt as if I were in a
+submarine with the periscope shot away. Every other fellow I met was
+'credibly informed' about something or t'other, and I could have made a
+pot of money, my dear, laying odds against their precious bits of
+information. The Government is scared stiff, at the mercy of the
+Labourites. Out of the welter of talk and twaddle I collared this
+conviction: the England we love has vanished never to return. Kitchener
+says that we shall be bled white, and the best will be the first to go."
+
+Lady Pomfret smiled faintly.
+
+"George Mucklow has gone."
+
+"Has he? I shall give Uncle a sovereign. Now, Mary, sick as I feel about
+the incompetence and crass stupidity of the people who have got us into
+this mess, I shall carry a stiff tail in the village."
+
+"I am sure you will, dear."
+
+"Yes. I asked 'em at the War Office what I could do. Get recruits, they
+told me. I shall mug up a lecture, dealing with military terminology. My
+people don't know the difference between a brigade and an army-corps.
+Coming down in the train, I thought out some useful diagrams. And, Mary,
+unless a miracle happens, the slaughter will be appalling. We must turn
+our dear old house into a Red Cross Hospital."
+
+"I had thought of that, Geoffrey. We are quite ready."
+
+"Get your staff together, a competent, professional nurse, and the pick
+of the women in the village."
+
+"Susan Yellam has promised to help."
+
+"None better! The sooner we get to work and stop jawing and fuddling our
+wits over newspapers, the less miserable we shall be."
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+After dinner, the autocrat of Nether-Applewhite felt less unhappy.
+
+Upon the following morning, bright and early, Squire and Parson put
+their heads together at the Vicarage. Since the marriage of Hamlin's
+daughter to Lionel Pomfret, the somewhat strained relations between the
+two fathers had pleasantly relaxed. Hamlin had this advantage over the
+Squire. He could see and understand the autocrat's lordly point of view.
+The Squire was, and always would be, incapable of standing in the
+Parson's shoes. Possibly, the war had modified their extreme opinions.
+The Squire read and approved the leading articles in _The Morning Post_;
+the Parson read omnivorously papers and reviews, but he would have
+admitted candidly that _The Westminster Gazette_ embodied most
+accurately his ideas and judgments.
+
+Both men were uncomfortably conscious that grave blunders had been
+perpetrated by Authority.
+
+When they had lit their after-breakfast pipes, Sir Geoffrey laid before
+Hamlin a synopsis of what he had gleaned in London, and his impressions
+thereon, but he spoke temperately, perceiving whimsical gleams in his
+Parson's eyes.
+
+"A lot of fools believe that Russians are pouring through this country.
+An old pal and myself tried to investigate on our own. We went to
+Euston. By Jove! we dropped on to a porter who swore that he'd seen
+thousands of 'em passing through Willesden, big bearded men in queer
+uniforms, at dead o' night. To show the ignorance of these fellows,
+Hamlin, I'll repeat to you what was said in answer to my questions. The
+porter affirmed positively that he had seen six hundred thousand of 'em!
+_Six hundred thousand!_ I asked him, then, if he knew how many soldiers
+could be packed into one train. He scratched his head at that. Finally,
+he admitted that he could swear to three trains full of these bearded
+warriors. When I told him, as an old soldier, that three trains might
+carry three thousand troops he absquatulated. A man at the War Office,
+whose name I can't mention, told me, next day, that no Russians from
+Russia were passing through England. A few, coming from America to
+Russia, have aroused this ridiculous gossip."
+
+Hamlin nodded.
+
+"I told my wife last night that knowledge is simply unachievable,
+because the biggest men don't know yet the temper of the country. Nobody
+knows. But I'll tell you this: the Government is afraid of the
+Industrials, terrified of strikes, terrified of Ireland, terrified, of
+course, of being kicked out. A sort of mental palsy has 'em by the
+throat. They are putting out feelers, tentatively approaching everybody.
+It's a sorry business. The bright spot is the response from our
+Colonies; India is behaving well. That must be a rare sell for the
+Kayser. Well, well; I've let off a little steam. Let's consider
+ourselves and what we can do. Men must be got. In this village your dear
+boy has set a glorious example."
+
+"George Mucklow enlisted three days ago."
+
+"So my wife tells me. I propose to give a lecture in the school-house on
+elementary military dispositions, so that our people will be able to
+read their papers with some sort of intelligence."
+
+"They don't read papers--much."
+
+"I want you to fill the school-house for me."
+
+"With pleasure."
+
+"We shall open a Red Cross Hospital as soon as may be, at the Court."
+
+Hamlin promised cordial co-operation. He had never doubted the Squire's
+willingness or capacity to "do his bit." And very mournfully he told
+himself that, making due allowance for Sir Geoffrey's reactionary
+sentiments and hatred of politicians the indictment brought by him
+against the Mandarins was in the main justified. He said quietly:
+
+"Most of my considered judgments are in the melting-pot."
+
+"Bless my soul! I never expected to hear you say that. So are mine. The
+main question for all of us is this: will the country rise to this
+stupendous emergency? I suppose the mere mention of conscription gives
+you a fit?"
+
+"I carry an open mind about it."
+
+"You amaze me, Hamlin. We were both 'blue-water school' men."
+
+"Yes. You use the past tense. I am humbly sensible that what I have felt
+and acted upon, principles and theories essentially rooted in peace and
+for peace, is of the past. I shall leave them there. The needs of the
+present are obsessing." He paused a moment; when he spoke again his
+voice held conviction: "Out of the darkness, I see light."
+
+Sir Geoffrey asked eagerly:
+
+"What light?"
+
+"The light of a happier civilisation, of a broader and more sympathetic
+internationalism. The ashes of this conflagration may fertilise anew the
+whole earth. It must be so."
+
+He had surprised Sir Geoffrey a moment back; it was the Squire's turn to
+surprise him. Hamlin expected a wail from the many-acred lord of the
+manor, a Jeremiad personal and embittered. Inevitably the men of large
+estates, with little outside their domains to support them, must suffer
+cruelly. It was difficult, indeed, to envisage the Squire of
+Nether-Applewhite without his shooting and hunting, with a much-reduced
+establishment, constrained to cheese-paring, entertaining wounded
+Tommies instead of county magnates. Sir Geoffrey answered as humbly as
+the Parson:
+
+"God send it may be so, Hamlin. This is a war between autocracy and
+democracy; and I don't believe in democracies, as you know."
+
+Hamlin remained silent. The Squire continued, more vehemently:
+
+"Can you mention one country that is a democracy? Is America a
+democracy?"
+
+"We shall know soon."
+
+"Is it a democracy to-day? Uncle Sam says so. But isn't America governed
+by the few and for the few? Do you call France a democracy after the
+revelations of this Caillaux trial? Are we a democracy, in the true
+sense? Perhaps Switzerland comes nearer the standard mark, but I know
+nothing about Switzerland. I have always distrusted profoundly the mob."
+
+"That may be at the root of the trouble. Distrust breeds distrust. If
+this war should open all eyes, if men should learn to see each other as
+they are--much alike in the mass--and not, not, as they blindly believe,
+essentially different, why, then this war will not have been waged in
+vain."
+
+Sir Geoffrey wrestled valiantly with these words.
+
+"I grope, Hamlin, I grope. It sounds humiliating when one is past
+sixty."
+
+Hamlin nodded. He was groping, too, but he had greater faith in human
+nature. He said hesitatingly:
+
+"The result of all wars, according to history, has been this: the poor
+emerge poorer; the rich richer. I hope that it will not be so after this
+world-war. And our energies should be directed to that end, Pomfret:--a
+more generous distribution of material wealth, a happier understanding
+between all classes, a breaking-down of barriers everywhere, not only as
+between man and man, but as between nation and nation."
+
+Sir Geoffrey jumped up, holding out his hand.
+
+"You are a good fellow, Hamlin, sound at core. I have often misjudged
+you in the past. Forgive me! The past, as we knew it, is dead. We will
+work together in the present."
+
+Hamlin rose quickly, grasping the outstretched hand. After discussing
+practical details concerning the lecture, they separated. The Squire
+strode on to the village, much heartened. The Parson sat down at his
+desk to write the Sunday morning sermon. For a time, he put no pen to
+paper. He leaned head upon hand, thinking deeply. Out of the dump-heap
+which was left of his pet theories, he tried to piece together some sort
+of mosaic pavement upon which he could stand. It was difficult to
+realise the change in himself, more difficult to realise the change in
+the Squire. But the change had taken place. What would be the effect on
+his parishioners? Who would help? Who would hinder? If this war meant
+the regeneration and reconstruction of the world, all were involved. He
+thought of the dead Pope, who had passed away without exciting a ripple
+of excitement outside the Vatican. What part would his successor play?
+Would the Church of England grasp a tremendous opportunity? Would the
+Nonconformists gird up their loins for the spiritual battle?
+
+Consider Armageddon how he might and did, from every point of view which
+presented itself to an active and prescient brain,--the material outlook
+of diplomatists struggling to adjust the balance of European powers, of
+monarchs gazing at tottering thrones, of politicians still grabbing
+loaves and fishes, of business men thinking of their tills, of the rank
+and file in all countries working apathetically for their daily
+bread,--this thought rose up and dominated others. To him and men like
+him, ardently concerned with the potentialities of souls, ordained
+teachers of God's Word, called upon to interpret, so far as they could,
+the mysterious designs of Omnipotence, the issues shone clearly forth.
+Evil was arrayed against Good. The pomps and vanities of the world were
+marshalled against the powers of the Spirit.
+
+And, in the end, the Spirit would triumph.
+
+He began his sermon.
+
+The Squire, meanwhile, was approaching the _Sir John Barleycorn_ tavern,
+intending to have a word with William Saint, and, later on, with Susan
+Yellam and others, whom he regarded as aides-de-camp. Not being a very
+judicious reader of character, indolently disposed (because he was so
+busy himself) to accept his own people as they appeared to be, he
+regarded William Saint as a respectable, intelligent publican, who had
+been an excellent servant as first footman at the Court. He counted upon
+William as a likely "whipper-in" in the hunt for recruits. The Boniface
+of the _Pomfret Arms_, the larger of the two Nether-Applewhite taverns,
+happened to be stout and scant o' breath. He seldom stirred out of his
+snug bar-parlour. William Saint scoured the countryside, a very
+energetic, enterprising fellow.
+
+"Morning, William."
+
+"Good morning, Sir Geoffrey."
+
+The Squire removed his hat and wiped an ample brow. He had found Saint
+in the sanded tap-room, overhauling supplies. He noted the man's drab
+complexion, and wondered whether he consumed too much of his own beer.
+The publican asked his old master deferentially if he would drink a
+glass of ale. Time was when the Squire never refused such invitations.
+To-day, he declined the ale, saying trenchantly:
+
+"No, no. We shall have to tighten our belts, William. Take my word for
+it. You must reckon with being hit. We shall all be hit in our purses
+and our stomachs."
+
+William Saint agreed politely. He had no intention of being hit in
+either place, but he kept that to himself. Already he was secretly
+enrolled amongst the would-be profiteers, and resolutely determined to
+extract good from an ill wind. Sir Geoffrey stated the nature of his
+errand. The village must set an example to less beatified hamlets, such
+as Ocknell, for example. Did William think the younger men would come
+forward with enthusiasm? William was doubtful about the enthusiasm. With
+discreet pressure from Authority, they might be induced to follow the
+example of George Mucklow. The Squire slapped his thigh.
+
+"I am very pleased with George Mucklow. A snug billet shall be kept for
+him."
+
+William smiled, not very pleasantly.
+
+"His father, Sir Geoffrey, used pressure."
+
+"Did he, b'Jove? And very proper, too. Uncle is one of the right sort.
+Even his weaknesses are endearing. The truth is, William, in such
+damnable times as these we must keep an eye peeled for the good in our
+fellow-men, and wink the other discreetly."
+
+Perhaps William profited by this advice, and winked the eye farthest
+from Sir Geoffrey. After more conversation, dealing strictly with
+recruiting methods to be applied to a community essentially
+peace-loving, Sir Geoffrey walked off and on, very well satisfied with
+his talk with an old servant. William apostrophised his diminishing
+figure in language never printed nowadays.
+
+As the Squire walked down village he, too, like the Parson, thought
+seriously of what he should say to his people when he met them in the
+school-house. He was not concerned with spiritual issues. As a former
+M.F.H., he went a-hunting recruits with the same ardour and resource
+formerly consecrated to foxes. With profoundest sincerity he wished that
+he were of an age to bear arms. Indeed, he had offered himself, as an
+ex-Guardsman, quite ready to tackle a new drill-manual, to an old
+schoolfellow, now a general at the War Office. Sound advice had been
+tendered him.
+
+"You can serve your country, Pomfret, on your own pitch. We shall want
+men and food. Food may become the more difficult problem."
+
+Hence the allusion to tightened belts.
+
+Sir Geoffrey walked briskly, reflecting complacently upon his excellent
+physical condition. He might be slightly dazed in mind, but fit as a
+fiddle in body. An odd expression that! What constituted a "fit" fiddle?
+Obviously, an instrument tuned to the right pitch. He felt taut all
+over. What had kept him fit at an age when many men of his acquaintance
+were falling into the sere and yellow stage of life? Sport. To scrap
+sport filled him with apprehension. So far, sport in England went on as
+usual. When he visited Euston to make enquiries concerning Russians, he
+had seen many cheery-looking fellows on their way north, bent on slaying
+grouse and stags, reasonably convinced in their own simple minds that,
+Germans or no Germans, the world must wag on as before. Sir Geoffrey was
+not so optimistic. He knew much better. Already the supreme sacrifice of
+an only son had been demanded of him and made instantly. Other
+sacrifices bulked larger and larger in the immediate future. Standing in
+his fine hall, with the portraits of dead-and-gone Pomfrets looking down
+upon him, he had smelt anticipatingly the pungent odours of carbolic
+acid and iodoform. The stately saloon must be turned into a ward--! The
+mere thought was hateful, but he never flinched from it. Let the poor
+boys come! He would welcome them with courtesy and geniality. A Mandarin
+predicted a five-shilling-in-the-pound income tax! The Squire had
+responded generously to the Prince of Wales's Fund.
+
+The situation could be summed up in one all-embracing word--Hell!
+
+Little girls curtsied, small boys touched their caps, as the Autocrat of
+Nether-Applewhite passed them by with a kindly word and glance for each.
+He reflected: "The little 'uns are out of it, bless 'em!" He wondered
+whether respectful salutations would last his time. They were dear to
+him, outward and visible signs of the respect paid to Authority. Would
+they be scrapped? The Government had taken over the railroads. If the
+Labourites came into power, the land might be grabbed ruthlessly.
+
+Sir Geoffrey walked less briskly, as the possibility obtruded itself.
+
+He stopped first at Uncle's cottage. Mrs. Mucklow received him. Uncle,
+it appeared, was at work, thatching a dormer window, which exacted his
+particular skill. Yes, George, poor boy, had gone for a soldier. His
+father had insisted upon it.
+
+"Quite right," said the Squire heartily.
+
+Jane Mucklow sniffed. She dared not contradict the Squire, but a sour
+face betrayed her feelings. The Squire laid a sovereign on the
+mantelpiece, saying that it was for Uncle, with the donor's compliments.
+Jane thanked him, wondering whether the piece of gold could be
+despatched, surreptitiously, to George. Always, Uncle got credit for
+what more deserving individuals accomplished. An exasperating thought! A
+recital of her own aches and pains, however, provoked the promise of a
+bottle of port. Sir Geoffrey shook hands with his former cook on
+leaving, and said graciously:
+
+"Now, remember, Jane, if George gets leave and comes home, I want to see
+him. Send him up to the Hall."
+
+"Thank you kindly, sir."
+
+Sir Geoffrey went his way. As he approached the Yellam cottage, he
+muttered half audibly:
+
+"Good people. Good people."
+
+If he had known the truth--! At this moment Jane Mucklow was reviling
+him, because she laid her George's approaching death at the Squire's
+door. She made quite sure--and so did George--that he would be killed in
+his first action. With much reluctance we present these two old servants
+of the Autocrat smiling deferentially to his face and cursing him behind
+his back! And he believed so absolutely in their honesty and sincerity.
+
+Five minutes later, Mrs. Yellam dusted a chair which needed no dusting.
+The Squire sat down upon it. He liked and respected Susan Yellam, and
+she--you may be sure--was well aware of that. No insincerity lurked
+behind her welcoming smile. But, in justice to the unhappy Jane Mucklow,
+it must be stated that Susan happened to be independent of the Autocrat.
+Many times and oft had Uncle been "behindhand" with his rent. More than
+once Sir Geoffrey had remitted that rent altogether, simply because
+Uncle was so knowledgeable about foxes and deer, and such a
+wrath-disarming scallywag even in his cups. Mrs. Yellam paid her rent
+punctually, and possessed independent means. She had never been in
+service. She exercised brains, rare in any village, which enabled her to
+apprehend something withheld from the unprivileged classes, to
+wit:--that position carried with it crushing responsibilities and
+disabilities. Mr. Fishpingle, so near and dear to Sir Geoffrey, a friend
+and servant of fifty years, had often pointed out to her the sacrifices
+made by the Squire for his people. And she had kept eyes and ears open
+to these, deducing inferences from them.
+
+For some minutes Sir Geoffrey talked about the Red Cross Hospital,
+enlisting Susan's sympathies. Co-operation had been promised already to
+Lady Pomfret.
+
+"My lady be none too strong," observed Mrs. Yellam.
+
+The Squire was not of Mrs. Yellam's opinion, but he didn't say so. He
+mentioned his proposed lecture, and solemnly invited her considered
+views on the recruiting campaign. She was not enthusiastic.
+
+"Be they wanted real bad, Sir Geoffrey?"
+
+"Of course they are."
+
+"Wanted as soldiers more than they be wanted on the land?"
+
+The Squire frowned. He had not weighed the pros and cons of a question
+hardly raised as yet even by far-seeing men.
+
+"Lord Kitchener asks for them."
+
+"I be afeard they'll hang back. 'Tain't easy to believe that us is at
+war. My Alferd be doing wonnerful well; trade stimulated as never was."
+
+"I hear that Alfred is engaged to be married. Tell me all about it."
+
+At such moments the Squire was at his best, keenly interested, avid for
+details, always ready to assume sponsorial obligations for the unborn,
+and promising five pounds if the little strangers appeared in couples.
+Mrs. Yellam spoke of Fancy.
+
+"Bless my soul! She opened the Vicarage door to me this morning. A very
+pretty girl, on the thin side, but modest and intelligent. I shall
+congratulate her. Your Alfred is a very sterling fellow. He deserves the
+right sort of wife. By the way, we shan't want him. You can tell him so
+from me."
+
+Mrs. Yellam said gravely:
+
+"Alferd be my only son, and I tells him that others should go first."
+
+"Um! What does he say to that?"
+
+"Nothing--not a word."
+
+"Well, Susan, I want Alfred to help me. As a carrier he is constantly
+meeting young men and young women. Let him talk to both."
+
+"Yes, Sir Geoffrey. Alferd be a very forcible man, wi' plenty o' brave
+words and thoughts. Certainly this war be a marrer-stirring affair. I
+hopes as how Master Lionel be enjoyin' good health, and his dear lady?"
+
+Sir Geoffrey chuckled.
+
+"Captain, Susan, Captain. And only yesterday, I remember, he came
+sneaking in here, always sure of a bull's-eye." He glanced at his watch.
+"Time, confound it, is always hurrying on. I'm due at the Home Farm.
+Before I go, one word in your faithful ear. It will travel no further
+for the present, hey?"
+
+"You knows that, Sir Geoffrey."
+
+They both stood up, a fine couple. The Squire patted Mrs. Yellam's
+substantial shoulder. Then he lowered his jolly voice:
+
+"You asked about Mrs. Pomfret. After Christmas I am expecting the sort
+of present I want badly. You understand----?"
+
+"Lard bless 'ee, Sir Geoffrey, and her too. Tis gert news."
+
+"Isn't it? But mum's the word!"
+
+He went on to the Home Farm, whither we need not follow him. But it may
+be added, incidentally, that the translation of Benoni Fishpingle from
+the position of butler at Pomfret Court to the more responsible post of
+Bailiff had worked greatly to the Squire's advantage and happiness. He
+returned home to luncheon in reasonably high spirits, having prodded the
+sides of many fat bullocks. He found Lady Pomfret on the terrace facing
+the park. From her face he divined instantly that something of
+importance had happened. She came up to him, with her slow, measured
+walk, holding out a telegram. It was from Lionel.
+
+"Expect Joyce and me to-night. I go to France this day week."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+RECRUITING
+
+
+The Squire's lecture was an immense success. The village school-house
+overbrimmed with his "people." With a big blackboard behind him, and
+chalk in hand, the lecturer talked simply and convincingly upon a
+subject at that time unfamiliar to his audience, a subject vital to any
+understanding of military movements. He explained the nature of
+platoons, companies, battalions, brigades, divisions and army corps. He
+presented, in short, an army in being. Loud applause greeted this first
+half of the lecture. The second half was devoted to the urgent cause of
+recruiting, and was not, perhaps, quite so enthusiastically acclaimed.
+The Squire, abandoning chalk and blackboard, thrust his hands in his
+pockets, and spoke trenchantly. We need not chronicle what he said. Men
+like him, all over the country, used the same arguments, almost exactly
+the same words. Such speakers forgot what had been said by Tweedledum
+and Tweedledee during the piping times of peace. Men and women, herded
+together, were invited to scrap the slow judgments and convictions of
+their lives. They had been assured again and again by politicians of
+variegated complexions that a mighty navy was fully adequate to defend
+our Empire against attack. Need it be added that such assurance,
+embodying as it did the accumulated wisdom and experience of
+generations, could not be cast incontinently as rubbish to the void.
+English politicians--using the word in the strongest antithesis to
+statesmen--have never realised the temper of the country towards
+themselves, the curious and striking indifference of the average man,
+engrossed in his own avocation, to any policy that he has not the wits
+or leisure to assimilate thoroughly. The confidence of this average man
+in the government of the moment has always been poignantly touching, a
+confidence stolidly based upon a belief in the fundamental common sense
+of the nation as a whole. Upset that belief, and the average man becomes
+at once helplessly befogged.
+
+After the Squire had spoken, old Captain Davenant said a few words in a
+more Cambyses' vein. Unhappily, the Captain lacked the geniality and
+persuasiveness of Sir Geoffrey. He believed in the choleric word,
+snapped out viciously. He spoke as he had often spoken in the
+barrack-yard, or in the hunting-field when some heavy-witted yokel had
+headed a fox. Probably he was shrewd enough to realise that this fox of
+recruiting might be headed, and governed himself accordingly. The
+Captain read the lessons on Sunday in the same peremptory tones, raising
+a rasping voice and glaring at the congregation--a very mirth-provoking
+performance. Uncle embodied the Nether-Applewhite verdict on such
+readings of the Scriptures:
+
+"'Tis a rare lark to hear 'un!"
+
+Fancy and Alfred attended the lecture together, and Alfred accompanied
+his sweetheart to the Vicarage _au clair de la lune_. They had sat at
+the back of the school-house amongst the younger people, and had
+listened attentively to sundry comments. Alfred, of course, accepted as
+gospel whatever the lord of so goodly a manor might be gracious enough
+to say. Being a carrier, and passing daily through many manors, he had
+made obvious comparisons between his Squire and others to the advantage
+of Sir Geoffrey Pomfret. Remember, also, that as yet, although he kept
+silence on the point, he had not considered the possibility of England
+wanting him, a widow's only son, actively engaged in the prosecution of
+a business vital to the needs and necessities of a prosperous village.
+He hadn't a doubt in his mind, after listening to a burning harangue,
+that the younger men ought to down tools of peace and shoulder rifles at
+the word of command. Some of the half-whispered comments disturbed him.
+
+"Are they cowards?" he demanded of Fancy.
+
+"Oh, I can't think that, Alfie."
+
+"You heard them growling like a lot of cantankerous hounds. I'd a strong
+notion to speak my mind, I had. 'Twas lucky for them that Uncle Habakkuk
+was sitting quiet and peaceful amongst the quality. I'll be bound he
+picked up a shilling or two, being the happy father of the hero. George,
+pore soul, stands higher than I ever expected to see him. 'Tis a sad
+pity the boy ain't able to hear the brave words as was said to-night by
+Squire and Captain. He's standing on a giddy pinnacle, to be sure, and I
+mind me, in cricket-field, how he'd shut both eyes when a ball came at
+his legs. I see him like that, quavering, on the field of battle."
+
+Alfred chuckled. Fancy squeezed his arm, whispering fears not for George
+Mucklow, but for a better man:
+
+"Alfie, please don't joke about that."
+
+"Ah, well, Fancy, 'tis a fact that many of our boys are like George.
+Shifting manure's their proper job, and they do that so slow that I get
+weary watching 'em. Young Master Teddy is the real right sort. What he's
+done, giving up a grand position, fills me nose-high with pride. And too
+little was said about him,--a very notable oversight."
+
+"That was because Mr. Teddy is quality."
+
+"You're right, my pretty maid. Are you aware, Miss Broomfield, that your
+fingers are playing the piano on my ribs?"
+
+Love-making put to flight the less agreeable theme.
+
+Mrs. Yellam and Jane Mucklow went home side by side. Jane, as the mother
+of the hero, maintained an aggressive silence. Susan Yellam said, with a
+faint inflection of interrogation:
+
+"You be a proud 'ooman to-night, Jane?"
+
+"You be wrong, as usual. I bain't nothing of the sart."
+
+"Squire and old Captain spoke up so handsome about your Garge."
+
+"Be I the old fool they takes me for? 'Twas soft soap, Susan, ladled out
+in a big spoon; flimflam I calls it. Habakkuk can ha' the pride, and
+welcome. He be fair swollen wi' that and ale as Garge is payin' for."
+
+"I listen to no ill talk about my brother, Jane."
+
+"Then you'd better walk wi' some one else, Susan Yellam. You sees God
+A'mighty's hand i' this; I don't."
+
+She stamped along home in a silence Mrs. Yellam was too wise to break.
+Jane was a Christian and a churchgoer. But chronic dyspepsia seemed to
+have affected her conscience and principles.
+
+She had predicted aright. At the _Sir John Barleycorn_ Uncle was
+drinking much ale paid for, indirectly, by the hero of the hour. The
+gaffers and married men, including George's married brothers, listened
+approvingly. Uncle "understudied" the Squire as he addressed his
+friends, thrusting his hands into his pockets and standing very upright.
+
+"'Twas a notable evening, neighbours, but not a thing fresh to me, you
+understand? Me and Squire went over his so heart-stirrin' remarks two
+days ago, and me and old Captain had talk together this very marning.
+Far be it from me to say as they used my own words egzactly; I bain't a
+scollard, although I can an' do hold me own wheresomedever I finds
+myself. And I tell 'ee, just as Squire did to-night, 'tis our duty to
+cry 'Forrard' and keep on a-hollerin' so long as breath be left in our
+dear bodies. We got to jine in the hunt, boys, and roll our big buck
+over in open. I means, some way, to be in at death, and 'twould be a
+grand privilege to slit his royal throat. I tell 'ee, one and all, that
+the eyes o' the world be on Nether-Applewhite."
+
+Uncle drank some ale, amidst much applause. An old gaffer piped up:
+
+"Neighbours and true friends, this be a wondersome time, but I makes
+bold to say that we country fellers bain't properly esteemed in Lunnon
+town. I minds me when I jined what they called a deppitation to that
+gert city. I'd no stomach to go along, seein' as I'd no better clothes
+than I stands up in to-day. But I was out-talked, sonnies, as has
+happened to me by my own wife, time and time agen. We marched very
+proper down such a noble street as I'd reckoned might be found in
+Kingdom Come and nowheres else. And marchin' along so proud and joyous
+as never was, a tremenjous, red-faced man, a-settin' top side of a 'bus,
+wi' the reins in his hand, sings out: 'Halt!' Well, neighbours, we comes
+to a full stop, a-lookin' up at he, and, dang me, if he don't ask a very
+ridic'lous and shameless question."
+
+The old man paused solemnly, looking about him. Some had heard the story
+before; one of the others said curiously:
+
+"Whatever did he say?"
+
+"He says this, sonnies, loud and clear: 'Tell me this,' he says, 'how do
+they keep the crows off the wheat when you fellers comes to town?'
+Neighbours, they was his words. And it struck me all of a heap as we
+wasn't, so to speak, properly esteemed in Lunnon town; and, more, 'tis
+hard to believe that what Habakkuk Mucklow here says is true. There be
+too much i' the world, neighbours all, for it to be gapin' at we."
+
+Uncle felt that he had overstrained a figure of speech. But he dealt
+faithfully with his aged interrupter.
+
+"What did 'ee up and reply to 'un, Granfer?"
+
+The old gaffer gazed around.
+
+"Ah-h-h! I says nothing at the time, Habakkuk Mucklow, but a very
+forcible remark comes into my mind just one week too late, when I was
+makin' spars in Hollywell Wood. I could ha' downscrambled 'un. 'Twas in
+the month o' November that we marched so gay adown that there Regency
+Street. And in November ther bain't no wheat to keep crows off. 'Twas a
+shameless and very ignerunt remark."
+
+He cackled joyously as a good Samaritan refilled his glass. William
+Saint, feeling cautiously the pulse of his customers, hazarded a remark:
+
+"The likely young fellers sat together at the end of the room, and they
+kept together afterwards. I see none of them here with us to-night. What
+does that mean?"
+
+"I'll tell 'ee," replied Uncle promptly, "and in duty bound, being so
+moral a man, I means to tell Squire to-morrow marning. They be afeard,
+as my Garge was, till I talked to 'un. Such talk as mine, soul-stirrin',
+upliftin' words, be wanted bad in Nether-Applewhite. The young fellers
+has got to fight for they as brought 'un into this wicked world. I
+fought in my time, as you all knows."
+
+"Where?" asked William Saint.
+
+Uncle replied scornfully:
+
+"Never you mind where, Willum Saint. I can fight still, let me tell 'ee.
+If you doubts that, take off your coat and come wi' me to stable-yard."
+
+William Saint declined politely the invitation.
+
+"Why, Uncle, I meant no offence. We all want to fight the Germans, not
+to quarrel amongst ourselves. You have a glass o' ale with me."
+
+Harmony was restored. Those present, who could hardly be expected to
+fight, agreed cordially that others must do the job for them. The
+youngsters needed encouragement.
+
+"Wi' the end of a boot," concluded Uncle.
+
+The lecture had taken place at seven. At nine the port circulated round
+Sir Geoffrey's mahogany. Hamlin was present and Lionel Pomfret. How
+sadly one recalls the chatter of those early days, the high hopes, the
+confidence that Might would crumble away against Right, the belief in
+the steam-roller--Russia. On paper, a swift result seemed assured. The
+Squire had thrown off London vapours. His own words had intoxicated him.
+He admitted that recruiting might hang fire in villages like Ocknell,
+but not amongst _his_ people. Lionel backed him up. Lady Pomfret and
+Joyce said nothing. The Parson hoped that it would be so. When Sir
+Geoffrey had said everything to be said, twice over, he turned as usual
+to his wife for an approving nod strangely withheld.
+
+"Well, my dear Mary, you agree with me?"
+
+"About the necessity of getting men--yes. But I am not so sanguine as
+you, Geoffrey, about the patriotism in our village."
+
+"Bless my soul!"
+
+"I think Mr. Hamlin shares my apprehensions."
+
+"I do," admitted the Parson gravely.
+
+Lady Pomfret continued gently:
+
+"I was talking, this afternoon, with Susan Yellam. She looks ahead. She
+faces facts, as we do. But she knows the village better than we do."
+
+"My dear----!"
+
+"I have been talking, too, with Ben."
+
+"So have I, Mary; so have I."
+
+Lady Pomfret smiled.
+
+"Are you quite sure, Geoffrey, that you have been talking with Ben, and
+not at him? He is too courteous to interrupt you and too kind to
+contradict you."
+
+"What does old Ben say to you?"
+
+"What Susan Yellam says. The villagers, generally, believe that our
+present army and navy can beat a world in arms against us. You disabused
+them of that this evening, but Captain Davenant undid some of your
+stitches."
+
+The Squire fumed a little.
+
+"The old boy let them have it straight from the shoulder."
+
+"Exactly. Personally, I deplore such methods."
+
+"Sheep have to be yapped into the fold."
+
+"I wonder if Mr. Hamlin thinks so?"
+
+Thus challenged, Hamlin spoke--tentatively.
+
+"I have never been able to regard men and women as animals. I admit a
+superficial similarity. Dogs are nearest to us, but what an Atlantic
+stretches between us and them! Would any training turn a Pekinese into a
+pointer? Or a pug into a greyhound? But you can train any child, of any
+nationality, into what you reasonably please, provided always that you
+are dealing with a sound mind in a sound body. Sheep, under certain
+conditions, have to be yapped into folds, because they are sheep. The
+Prussian system yaps men into the ranks. I would sooner try other
+methods."
+
+The Squire inclined his handsome head.
+
+"Try your own methods, Hamlin, and good luck to you."
+
+He answered quietly: "I shall try them next Sunday."
+
+"You don't say so? From the pulpit?"
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I approve with all my heart."
+
+For the moment it rested there. Lionel began to talk of his coming
+campaign. The elder men and both the women, wife and mother, listened to
+his young, eager voice. How keen he was! How sure of himself and of his
+men, particularly the men. He talked persistently of Mr. Thomas Atkins,
+of his artful divagations in peace and his whole-souled valour in war.
+Hamlin reflected that it was good to listen to such talk, good to be
+young and valiant, at such a time, good even to die, if the supreme
+sacrifice were demanded, clean of limb and mind, leaping joyously
+upward, unfettered by disease or vice, _fit_--to use the boy's own
+word--for the greatest adventure of all.
+
+He heard his own boy speaking, just such another! Britain had thousands
+of them, the fine flower of careful training, of a courtesy constantly
+exercised, of a courage sharpened to finest edge by the grindstone of
+games and sports, of an intelligence not quite so keenly tempered, but
+alert enough in moments of stress, of a "morale" which nothing could
+dismay.
+
+Surely they would be invincible?
+
+When Lionel waxed anecdotal, Hamlin's thoughts wandered to the women. He
+had been a stalwart champion of the "Cause," till the militant
+suffragettes took to smashing windows and smacking policemen. One effect
+of the war, and no inconsiderable national asset, was the subsidence of
+these tempestuous petticoats, never to flutter again, so he hoped. From
+women this essentially virile parson had always expected and exacted
+great things. The true prosperity of any country, so he held, flowed
+from them and culminated in them. He had recognised, even at college,
+their immeasurable potentialities--a favourite word of his. To ignore
+their claims, politically, he contended in and out of print, was a
+colossal blunder. But, quite apart from the granting or withholding of
+female suffrage, he desired ardently to see women doing intelligently
+and thoroughly the work peculiarly their own, whether as matrons or
+spinsters. The death-rate amongst babies appalled him; the physique of
+young girls overworked in over-crowded, over-heated factories and shops
+roused this austere parish priest to fever-heat. He had marvelled at the
+astigmatic insight displayed by sincere statesmen and philanthropists,
+an insight ludicrously so-called, which overlooked women as the
+mightiest lever to raise and regenerate a nation.
+
+And now, in the dim twilight of a world in gloom, he perceived a beacon
+steadily shining. The women would have their opportunity. One could
+adumbrate triumph or disaster by the effort, sustained or otherwise,
+made by them. The men would play their part, if the inspiration of the
+women lay behind them. And in the inevitable dislocations of all human
+enterprise, both during and after the war, he beheld women stimulating
+the men either upward or downward, for good or ill, according to the
+spirit which burned within them.
+
+He gazed at Lady Pomfret and his daughter Joyce, as their eyes dwelt
+upon the son and husband about to sail for France. He could guess what
+sensibilities lacerated their hearts. Outwardly, each remained calm.
+They would be so when the moment of parting came, speeding their warrior
+on his way with smiles, keeping back the tears till he was out of sight.
+
+Hamlin walked home across the park, and let himself into the Vicarage
+with his latch-key. It was past eleven, and, to his surprise, Fancy had
+not gone to bed. As she lit his candle he chided her with the touch of
+testiness which had ceased to frighten her.
+
+She said quickly:
+
+"I wanted to see you, sir."
+
+"See me at nearly midnight? What about? Surely to-morrow morning would
+do?"
+
+"I wanted to sleep well to-night."
+
+Without a word, he led the way into his study, and lighted two more
+candles.
+
+"Sit down," he commanded. "You look tired."
+
+"I feel excited like, sir."
+
+He examined her more attentively, noticing the dilation of her pupils,
+so marked as to alter her expression. Big black eyes seemed to be
+burning out of a white face, but he attributed this seeming pallor to an
+ill-lit room.
+
+"What excites you, Fancy?"
+
+"I sat with Alfred Yellam at the back of school-house amongst the young
+fellows."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Before Alfred left me, he told me to tell you, sir, that the young
+fellows was not too well pleased with what Captain Davenant said. Alfred
+was real vexed at their remarks. He thought you did ought to know."
+
+"I'm much obliged to Alfred for a timely hint. But couldn't this have
+kept till the morning?"
+
+"There's something else, sir."
+
+"Out with it!" He smiled more encouragingly.
+
+"After Alfred went, Molly told me as everybody in village was saying as
+how George Mucklow's father _made_ him go, and that upset the other
+young men.... And then...."
+
+Her soft voice faltered and died away.
+
+"And then...?"
+
+"Molly and me fell to talking about Mr. Edward."
+
+The sympathy in her voice was almost too much for the Parson. He shaded
+his eyes with his hand. She continued in a lower tone:
+
+"Excuse me, sir, for asking you something, but I do want to know so
+bad."
+
+"Ask your question, Fancy."
+
+"Did you tell Mr. Edward to go?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Ah! He wanted to go, and you didn't raise a finger to prevent him. If
+you had, maybe he'd have stayed."
+
+"I--I don't think so."
+
+The Parson's voice was not too steady. How sorely he had been tempted to
+raise that finger none would ever know. Fancy went on, breathlessly:
+
+"Molly and me thinks that those who can least be spared may have to go,
+if--if the others hold back."
+
+"I see. You are thinking of your Alfred?"
+
+He lowered his hand, looking straight at her.
+
+"If you please, sir. He be terrible put out at the others hanging back."
+
+"I give my opinion for what it is worth, Fancy. In these deep matters
+none can speak for another. I do not presume to speak for Alfred. But
+Lord Kitchener, if he were here, would assure you that Alfred is
+certainly not needed yet, nor likely to be for a long time."
+
+"Thank you, sir. That does hearten me. But, if he should want to go, and
+if--if he left it to me, what should I do? What ought I to do?"
+
+Her big eyes were flaming with interrogation. The Parson dared not
+temporise with her. All his thoughts concerning women seemed to have
+become focussed on this individual case. All that the finest gentlewomen
+in the Empire were feeling expressed itself poignantly from the mouth of
+his parlourmaid. All his convictions concerning the potentialities of
+the soul became fortified. They burst suddenly into full flower. Yet he
+answered curtly, distrustful of sentiment when tremendous issues were at
+stake.
+
+"You will tell him, Fancy, to act according to the dictates of his own
+conscience."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Do you mean that you will tell him that, regardless of your own
+feelings?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+She got up, begging his pardon for keeping him out of bed. As he rose
+from his chair, he wondered what he could say to comfort her; some word
+of solace that might woo sleep to her tired brain. They went together
+into the small hall. He took her hand.
+
+"Have courage and faith. Pray that these may be vouchsafed to you and to
+all of us. Something tells me that you have both already. And if so,
+Fancy, it is well with you. Good-night."
+
+"Good-night, sir."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+PARSON'S METHODS
+
+
+Next day, immediately after breakfast, Sir Geoffrey summoned his two
+footmen and the odd man, so called because he does odd jobs in a big
+establishment and works harder for less pay than any other servant
+except, possibly, the scullery-maid. The first footman, Alfred Rockley,
+had married recently his cousin, Prudence, and, for the moment, the
+Squire regarded him as ineligible for service elsewhere. Charles, the
+second footman, was held by the Squire to be an oaf, sadly in need of
+barrack-yard discipline; the odd man had been taken from the Home Farm,
+and felt more at home in a barn than in the pantry.
+
+They had attended the lecture of the previous evening.
+
+Sir Geoffrey marshalled them in front of him, as he sat at his desk, and
+said genially:
+
+"Now, Alfred, what do you think about joining up?"
+
+The gallant fellow answered promptly:
+
+"I'm ready to enlist with Captain Pomfret, Sir Geoffrey."
+
+"So he told me, and it warmed the cockles of my heart. But you have a
+wife and----"
+
+"Somebody else coming, Sir Geoffrey," added a true son of
+Nether-Applewhite.
+
+"Yes, yes; a hint of that reached me, and I was much pleased. Babies,
+b'Jove, ought to command premiums nowadays. Under the circumstances,
+Alfred, you can go back to the pantry. Single men must march first."
+
+Alfred thanked the Autocrat, and withdrew. Charles happened to be the
+Squire's godson, and not a credit to his sponsor. Sir Geoffrey stared at
+his bovine face, now exhibiting a grin which might be seen at funerals
+and on all momentous occasions, a grin indicating nervousness and
+apprehension. If Sir Geoffrey could have looked through a very massive
+desk, he would have reprimanded Charles for standing on one foot and
+scratching his calf with the other.
+
+"What do you propose to do, Charles?"
+
+"I be thinking, Sir Gaffrey."
+
+"Good. I want my people to exercise such thought as God has given to
+'em. What conclusion have you come to--hey?"
+
+"Mother don't fancy me going for a soldier."
+
+"Possibly not. But this is a case for your conscience, not for your
+mother's fancy."
+
+He spoke with increasing testiness.
+
+"I be thinking, Sir Gaffrey," he repeated, with a still broader grin.
+
+"Very well. Off with you! Think hard for the next twenty-four hours, and
+I'll see you again."
+
+"Yas, Sir Gaffrey."
+
+Charles withdrew, still grinning, and joined Alfred in the pantry, where
+he used encarmined language which provoked a rebuke from the middle-aged
+butler who had stepped into Fishpingle's shoes.
+
+Sir Geoffrey eyed the odd man.
+
+"What have you to say, my lad?"
+
+"I ain't going to the wars, I ain't."
+
+"Oh, you ain't going to the wars? Why not?"
+
+"Because I'm quite satisfied with my place, sir."
+
+"By the way, what's your name?"
+
+"William Busketts."
+
+"To be sure. Unmarried?"
+
+"I'm walking out with Jemima Pavey, a very respectable young woman."
+
+"What does Jemima Pavey say about it?"
+
+"She thinks with me, sir. Most of us think the same, as we ain't ready
+to go to furrin' parts. If the Kayser invades Old England, I'm ready to
+shoulder gun, stand behind a tree, as brave as my neighbours, and take a
+true shot at 'un."
+
+Sir Geoffrey stared at him. Did all the young men in his beloved village
+think this? And, if so, how was Authority going to deal with such a lot
+of damned fools? He said slowly:
+
+"Has it occurred to you, my lad, that if able-bodied men like you refuse
+to enlist willingly, they will be made to do so? Willy-nilly----!"
+
+"Ah-h-h, you're talking of conscription, sir. Old England won't never
+stand that. 'Tis devilish Proosianism, so they tell me."
+
+"Who has told you that? Answer me!"
+
+"I have heard William Saint say so."
+
+Sir Geoffrey suppressed an oath. That William Saint, a former servant of
+his own, a tenant, a trusted friend, b'Jove! should so poison men's
+minds at such a time seemed incredible. If this were true, the world was
+indeed upside down. He fidgeted in his chair; his face flushed; wrath
+bubbled within him. He began to despair of his fellow-countrymen.
+However, he choked down his rising rage and said freezingly:
+
+"You can go, sir."
+
+"Where to?"
+
+"Back to your work for the present."
+
+William Busketts retreated, slightly moithered, but more at ease. He had
+expected an explosion, followed by the "sack."
+
+Sir Geoffrey leaned back in his chair, sorely discomfited. It would be
+pleasant to record that happier fortune awaited him in his stables, in
+his gardens, and at the Home Farm; but truth will leap from her well on
+rare occasions. Out of all the young men interviewed upon this memorable
+morning, young men more or less dependent upon the will and whim of
+their interlocutor, only one promised to enlist forthwith. The others
+touched their caps, bobbed their heads, and professed themselves willing
+to do anything except bear arms for their country.
+
+Luncheon at Pomfret Court, accordingly, was not a very cheery meal. The
+Squire sat silent and abstracted; the troubles in his brain upset his
+appetite.
+
+In the afternoon, he called upon Captain Davenant, whom he found
+apoplectic with indignation. The Captain had a modest establishment, but
+he had discharged two men who--so the Captain affirmed--preferred to
+guzzle ale when a unique opportunity for sticking pig was held out to
+them.
+
+"Country's rotten," concluded the Captain. "It may be saved by the
+gentlemen, by God! sir, but not by our yokels."
+
+The Squire protested against this, saying, mildly for him:
+
+"Perhaps, Davenant, our methods are at fault."
+
+"That be damned!" roared the Captain.
+
+"Well, well, it's fairly obvious that so far our recruiting campaign has
+not been an overwhelming success. Hamlin means to have a go at 'em on
+Sunday. I haven't a notion how he'll tackle the job, but there it is.
+What is your opinion of William Saint?"
+
+"A very shifty fellow, Pomfret, with a face the colour of skilly. He
+licks your boots. I wouldn't let him black mine. By the way, I've
+promised Habakkuk Mucklow half-a-sovereign for every cove he collars."
+
+"That we should have come to such a pass!"
+
+"Light a fresh cigar, and we'll go to the stables. When I'm fed up with
+mankind, I always take a squint at my gees."
+
+"So do I, Davenant. But they'll have to go, too."
+
+"Mine are ready for 'em."
+
+This talk took place in mid-September, at a moment when an astrologer,
+doing a roaring trade not far from Piccadilly Circus, predicted
+confidently that the final disappearance of the All-Highest would take
+place upon the twenty-fifth day of October, 1914! Many believed him. And
+the mere sight of our splendid regulars route-marching over country
+roads, singing "Tipperary" as they swung along, deepened in the hearts
+of those who beheld them the conviction that French's Army was quite
+sufficient to stem the Hun tide, and, later on, sweep it back to Berlin.
+The pacifist press was widely read by men who had never looked at a
+newspaper before.
+
+Unspeakable atrocities had begun in prostrate Belgium. Some refused to
+credit them. Others shrugged their shoulders and remarked blandly that
+war was not five o'clock tea. Out of the seething mass of
+contradictions, affirmations, exaggerations and recriminations, men in
+the rural districts who could hardly read and write were invited to step
+forward and abandon the beaten tracks. Can one blame them, to-day, that
+they shrank at first from a desperate plunge into the unknown?
+
+Upon the following Sunday, Nether-Applewhite Church was crowded to the
+galleries.
+
+All over the country, churches were filling up or emptying according to
+the virtue that emanated from the preachers of God's Word. One wonders
+whether ministers of the Gospel apply this numerical test to themselves.
+It is certain, however, that those, like Hamlin, whether in Church or
+Chapel, who laid aside for the moment merely Biblical exegesis and the
+expounding of doctrine and dogma, and concentrated spiritual and
+intellectual energies upon dealing faithfully with the problem of human
+conduct as affected by a catastrophic war, had no reason to complain
+that they addressed empty pews.
+
+Captain Davenant read the Lessons as if he were declaiming the Riot Act.
+The good man believed that the young men present were shirking hounds to
+be rated and whipped up to their Master. Under the lash of his rasping
+voice, even Mrs. Yellam, louder in fervent response than usual, winced
+and frowned. The Parson, in his three-decker, wondered whether a
+discreet hint would serve to tone down the zeal of this militant
+Christian, who positively wallowed in the slaughters and comminations of
+the Old Testament. The Captain, as a stout upholder of Church and Crown,
+must be handled delicately; a dry old stick breaks so easily. Uncle sat
+with his wife in the Mucklow pew, half-way down the nave. He carried a
+high head, and thought of the half-sovereigns soon to be rattling in and
+out of his pocket. Jane sat beside him, sniffing audibly. Alfred Yellam
+and Fancy Broomfield were opposite to each other, with the aisle between
+them.
+
+Hamlin ascended the pulpit.
+
+He chose for his text a maxim of Bishop Berkeley:
+
+"Where the heart is right, there is true patriotism."
+
+The shuffling of skirts and occasional coughs soon died down. Sir
+Geoffrey, from his coign of vantage in the chancel, perceived with some
+astonishment that Hamlin had a script on the cushion in front of him. As
+a rule he preached without notes. The Squire inferred rightly that the
+Parson deemed his theme to be of such paramount importance that he
+distrusted the effect of one careless, unconsidered word. Hamlin,
+however, possessed long sight. He could read his typewritten sheets
+without lifting them. Few in the congregation were aware of them.
+
+He began with the curt statement that the actual word "patriotism" is
+not to be found in the Bible. This challenged attention immediately. The
+Squire fidgeted. He considered that Hamlin had made a shockingly bad
+start. A weapon had been thrust into the hands of recalcitrants. This
+apprehension, however, vanished as the preacher set forth convincingly,
+in words that children could understand, the obsessing love of country,
+of the Promised Land, which informed and sustained God's Chosen People
+during forty weary years in the wilderness. With a swift transition, he
+passed to the New Testament, dwelling, with more insistence, upon the
+love that had inspired simple, obscure men to forsake home, country and
+kindred, to fight God's battles in new and strange countries. When he
+paused, before touching his real theme, he had the ears of his
+congregation. He indulged in no gestures, his familiar tones fell
+quietly. So far, what he had said was preparatory, novel neither in
+theme nor treatment. None knew better than he how sadly his parishioners
+were lacking in imagination. His success, as a preacher, had not been
+gained by dealing with abstractions or by inviting ill-educated persons
+to transplant themselves to surroundings and conditions which the wisest
+of moderns find difficulty in apprehending. Hamlin believed in the
+personal appeal.
+
+He leaned forward out of his pulpit, gazing keenly at the faces upturned
+to his.
+
+"I am wondering," he said slowly, "how many of you young unmarried men
+will be here a few Sundays from now?"
+
+He paused again. His voice was gentler:
+
+"I am wondering, also, what the mothers and sisters and sweethearts of
+these young men are thinking to-day, and what part they mean to
+play--to-morrow." Then he said austerely: "Where the heart is right,
+there is true patriotism."
+
+Many hearts began to beat faster, as he went on, picking his way,
+pausing again and again, but never faltering. The Squire, upright in his
+comfortable chair, became conscious of the man's grip upon everybody
+present, gentle and simple. He could see their tense faces.
+
+"I have never doubted one great thing. I believe in the soul and its
+immortality. In God's sight all souls are equal, because they are part
+of Him. From birth that soul is struggling to inform the body, in all
+its functions. It never tires; it never despairs. I dare to affirm that
+it is most active when body and mind are fighting against it, spurning
+it, denying, perhaps, its very existence or power. I affirm, further,
+that this quickening spirit within us may be least potent to achieve its
+purpose when body and mind are stagnant, steeped in apathy, content with
+the things of this earth, food, drink, clothes, money and--pleasure.
+
+"Try to believe, for a moment, that your souls are omnipotently right.
+In the text I have chosen, Bishop Berkeley uses the word 'heart.' I take
+it that he meant mind. Are your minds right? Are they working in harmony
+with your souls? Each of you is called upon to answer that question in
+relation to this world-war, and what that war may demand of each of us.
+It is the duty of some of you to go, not grudgingly, not because
+pressure is brought to bear upon you, not because you want to pose
+before others as more valiant than they are, not for any selfish reason
+whatever, but in the same spirit which informed the apostles, men like
+yourselves, hard workers, absorbed, as you are, in their own affairs,
+who abandoned everything with one unswerving purpose before them--the
+regeneration of a world in pain.
+
+"A great Cause is animating all of us.
+
+"This war may inspire some of you to actions undreamed of in days of
+peace, to a valour which you cannot measure if you would, because the
+hour provoking it has not yet come. Sooner or later that hour comes to
+the greatest and the humblest. And the manner of our rising to it may
+shape anew our lives and other lives, and determine our progress here
+and hereafter. From the cradle to the grave, each of us carries a
+sleeping energy capable of immense expansion, which wakes when the great
+opportunity presents itself.
+
+"Some of you, I daresay, are unconscious of this latent power. We don't
+expect much of a child, do we? A child eats and plays and sleeps. But
+children of the tenderest years have performed amazing, incredible
+deeds. Why? Because of this Divine fund of spiritual force. And we who
+are past middle-age; how difficult it is to say, with any certainty, how
+early we began, resolutely, to exercise what is called the human will.
+
+"I ask you again, are your hearts right? I repeat again that your souls
+are right. Obey the voice of conscience, and it will be well with you.
+It is the duty of some of us to stay here in Nether-Applewhite. I wish
+with all my heart that I could go, but I must stay. A very solemn
+obligation rests with the women. I have never doubted the immense
+influence consciously or unconsciously exercised by you women over men.
+Are your hearts right? Do you realise, thinking, as you must do, of your
+dependence upon your bread-winners, that you may be hindering instead of
+helping those whom you love; that, in urging them to stay at home, you
+may be taking from them an opportunity to rise to their full stature,
+never to be offered again?
+
+"What does Bishop Berkeley mean by _true_ patriotism?
+
+"Are the Germans true patriots? Let us admit that they are passionate
+lovers of their Fatherland. But their patriotism would seem to be an
+insensate fury of self-interest, shrinking from no outrage to be
+inflicted on others, provided only that the material end be
+accomplished--world-dominion. I cannot bring myself to speak, before
+young women and children, of the atrocities deliberately wreaked upon
+helpless Belgians. They are so abominable that details are unprintable
+in clean newspapers.
+
+"Is, then, their form of patriotism true?
+
+"What form will your patriotism take? Will it be true, springing to life
+and strength, out of a right mind inspired by the soul; or will it
+pattern itself after the Prussian model, concerning itself with material
+gain regardless of spiritual loss?
+
+"Ask yourself these things.
+
+"Before I close I want to say this. For many years I have worked amongst
+you, in sickness and in health, in prosperity and adversity, and your
+welfare is dear to me. Sometimes I have felt discouraged, acutely
+sensible of failure and disappointment. For many of you I have cherished
+ambitions, and some of these have been realised. And it is this which
+has sustained and fortified me in the dark hours which none can escape.
+What one can do may be done by another; not in the same way, perhaps,
+but in the same direction--upward and onward. I believe, with all the
+faith that is in me, that you will rise, with right and steadfast
+hearts, to meet this stupendous emergency. I am at your service. My
+house is open to you when I am in it. If you want counsel, if you feel
+perplexed, as you may well do, come to me, and together we will attempt
+to find a way. I shall not appeal to any one of you, personally."
+
+The congregation filed out of the church. Many walked home in silence.
+Alfred Yellam booked no orders in the churchyard on that Sunday. Susan
+Yellam smelt no odour of baked meats as she passed the baker's. Uncle,
+after greeting them not so exuberantly as usual, said with conviction:
+
+"A very moving and proper discourse. 'Tis strange that me and Pa'son do
+think just alike. I felt as I might ha' been preaching that upliftin'
+sermon myself. His motter be mine--upward and onward! He be counting on
+me to play my part, and I shan't disapint 'un."
+
+His wife said tartly:
+
+"There be one preacher you'll never disappoint, Habakkuk."
+
+"You means Pa'son?"
+
+"I means--yourself."
+
+Uncle laughed, patting her shoulder.
+
+"Old dear, I've heard 'ee make more foolish remarks."
+
+Mrs. Yellam said no word about the sermon till the midday meal was over.
+When Alfred had lighted his pipe, she came and sat near him.
+
+"Alferd?"
+
+"Yes, Mother?"
+
+"There be moments when Mr. Hamlin do soar, so to speak, high above me. I
+be a very unhappy 'ooman this day."
+
+Alfred opened his mouth and left it open, gaping with amazement. The
+Parson's sermon had moved him to the marrow, particularly the references
+to the women, because he was well aware of the influence exercised over
+him by his mother and Fancy, the more percolating because he never
+admitted it except to himself. Nevertheless he knew that his mother was
+subject to moods and tenses which no ordinary man could conjugate. She
+held herself strictly to account upon matters affecting conduct,
+somewhat complacently aware that less robust spirits cited her as a
+model. Her cocksureness about others, oddly enough, accentuated
+pitifully her private opinion about Susan Yellam. From time to time
+Alfred alone was privileged to behold this strong woman self-shorn of
+her strength. He could remember well a terrible fortnight after Lizzie
+died, when Mrs. Yellam lay in bed and refused even his efforts to
+console her. The remembrance of her grim, set face came back to him now,
+as he stared mutely at her, wondering what he ought to say, and
+miserably conscious that the situation lay far beyond him.
+
+Why should his mother be unhappy?
+
+Had he been a student of history, he might have reflected that Boadicea,
+possibly, ruled wisely everybody except herself.
+
+Mrs. Yellam continued:
+
+"I have the notion that Mr. Hamlin expects too much o' me."
+
+"What a queer, upsetting idea!"
+
+"I be asking myself if my heart be right. It bain't."
+
+"Maybe 'tis your stomach, Mother."
+
+"No, Alferd. I be no true patriot."
+
+"Well, I never! If such a woman as you are is bogged down, where are we,
+I ask?"
+
+"You be in the right path, Alferd. 'Tis some comfort to think o' that.
+Now, let me bide wi' my own thoughts. Fancy be waiting for 'ee. Be kind
+to the maid, Alferd, if so be as you find her, like me, down on beam
+ends after this marning's sermon."
+
+"Fancy'll be all right, I wager."
+
+"Maybe. I tell 'ee this: we women be fearfully and wonnerfully made--a
+puzzle to ourselves and all mortal men. That be a fact, my son. I knows
+this too hard for any man to understand. If you stayed on here wi' me,
+wi' the whole-souled notion o' comforting an unhappy 'ooman, I should
+wax peevish wi' 'ee. God forgive us! We be cruel to they we love, when
+life goes wrong wi' us."
+
+Alfred wisely had a squint at his motor-'bus to hearten himself up, and
+then took the road to the Vicarage.
+
+Mrs. Yellam cleared away the dinner-things and washed them up. It was
+too early, as yet, to expect visitors. She went into the parlour and
+opened the big Bible, staring at Alfred's name and her own. She had rid
+herself of him cleverly. Had he stayed, she would have broken down. She
+wanted to make him swear to remain in Nether-Applewhite. She had made up
+her mind to do so that very morning. Every word spoken by the Parson
+seemed to be directed at her; his chance shafts quivered in the heart
+that was not right.
+
+She closed the Bible.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+FANCY'S ORDEAL
+
+
+Parson's methods bore fruit. Within the week several young men came
+forward, and certain young women, on their own initiative, formed a
+small society to encourage enlistment. Uncle claimed two or three
+half-sovereigns from Captain Davenant to which, possibly, he was not
+entitled. The Captain raised a protest against one case, having specific
+information that female influence had been diligently at work. Uncle
+laughed.
+
+"Ah-h-h! That be true, Captain. But 'twas me as talked first to the
+young 'ooman, training her, so to speak, and puttin' my brave words into
+her pretty mouth. But I bain't one to keer about money. Everybody knows
+that. I be working as never was for my whole Sovereign, King Garge, not
+for half 'uns."
+
+Captain Davenant paid the extra half-sovereign. Uncle's disarming grin
+proved irresistible.
+
+Ultimately, Nether-Applewhite did better than contiguous villages. In
+Ocknell, with an impoverished squire and a nonentity for a parson, no
+young men came forward during the first three months.
+
+About Christmas, George Mucklow returned home on leave, hardly
+recognisable. Nether-Applewhite was impressed by his martial bearing,
+when he strode down the village street, cocking his head at a
+much-admired angle, with his buttons shining in the sun. Young Hamlin,
+with a corporal's stripes upon his arm, had leave at the same time.
+George and he received an ovation, wandering in and out of the cottages,
+talking and laughing as if war were the greatest lark in the world.
+Recruiting was much stimulated. The girls liked to be seen with a "boy"
+in khaki.
+
+Meanwhile, Lionel Pomfret had been with the gallant Seven Divisions,
+sharing their hardships and glories. He wrote home in good spirits,
+making light of what he had endured, but a postscript in a letter
+received in early December was illuminating.
+
+"At present I feel that when I return to Nether-Applewhite I shall never
+want to leave it again. All the German prisoners taken by our men are
+fatly content. One chap, formerly a barber at Nottingham, told me that
+he'd been looking for us ever since he joined up!"
+
+Perhaps the proudest moment of Lady Pomfret's life came to her when she
+visited a wounded Green Jacket at Netley, who had been in Lionel's
+company. The man said to her:
+
+"During the retreat from Mons, my lady, the Captain kept up all our
+spirits, laughing at us and chaffing us. We loved him."
+
+So far, Lionel had not been touched, but, much to the anxiety of his
+mother, he never mentioned his own health. She knew how delicate his
+lungs were. Would they stand the cruel rigours of the trenches in
+mid-winter?
+
+She was now established as the Commandant of the Red Cross Hospital, and
+wore a red uniform which became her vastly well. For three months,
+preceding Christmas, wounded Belgians were cared for and entertained by
+the devoted band of women who rallied round the lady of the manor. Jane
+Mucklow cooked for the wounded; Susan Yellam was installed as
+bottle-washer in chief. Sir Geoffrey would march through the Long Saloon
+and wonder where he was. All the beautiful furniture and porcelain had
+been put away. Nine cots on each side of the stately room stood side by
+side. In the centre was a large table covered with puzzles and
+paraphernalia for indoor games. At smaller tables the convalescents
+played interminably at cards, piquet and écarté. They amused each other
+very well, not so dependent upon their entertainers as the Tommies who
+succeeded them. One man sang beautifully; another wrote admirable verse.
+Before the war, the versifier had been on the staff of a Brussels
+newspaper. All these men were unanimous about one thing--an _idée fixe_.
+They hoped and prayed that they might never be asked to fight again.
+Some declared their intention of remaining for ever and ever in England.
+It was heart-breaking to listen to their accounts of ravished and
+pillaged Belgium.
+
+Above them hung the famous French prints. Beautiful, laughing dames and
+exquisite cavaliers looked down upon bandaged heads and shattered limbs.
+The contrast never failed to strike Sir Geoffrey. His prints stood for
+life as he had known it, gay, easy, refined, cultivated, essentially
+aristocratic. Was the Old Order, which he loved, passing inexorably out
+of sight? Would life, after the war, cease to be leisurely and easy for
+the upper classes? Would the payment of a stupendous National Debt fall
+upon them? And, if so, how would it be met? Would a triumphant democracy
+divide up the big estates? Could they be run properly upon diminished
+rent-rolls?
+
+He confronted these questions ill at ease inwardly. Outwardly, as he had
+assured his wife, he carried "a stiff tail." The politeness of the
+Belgians oppressed him. If he came into the ward and addressed a man
+lying in bed, the poor fellow would struggle to sit up and salute him.
+One cheery-faced boy, with eight wounds, passed the time laughing and
+crying; then he would fall asleep, smiling in his sleep like a child.
+
+But recruiting had been damped down by Authority, because housing and
+equipment were so short. Sir Geoffrey was not encouraged to stump the
+county--as he offered to do--and deliver his lecture. His old
+school-fellow at the War Office gave him a hint:
+
+"We want the men, but not too many at once."
+
+In the village, women not engrossed with Red Cross work sewed feverishly
+upon shirts and pyjamas, and knitted comforters. The Squire examined
+some of the pyjamas, and exclaimed:
+
+"Thank God! I don't have to wear them."
+
+Shooting and hunting and football went on much as usual, to the
+amazement of our French Allies. Some of our cavalry regiments in France
+wanted to import a pack of hounds. The French Mandarins forbade it.
+
+Early in January, a curt telegram from the War Office reached Sir
+Geoffrey, as he stood in the hall, after a day in his coverts, shooting
+cock-pheasants.
+
+"Lionel Pomfret wounded, degree not stated."
+
+Next morning, Sir Geoffrey hastened to London and to the War Office. No
+details were forthcoming. The men he saw were kind and sympathetic.
+Captain Pomfret might be badly wounded, but the odds were against that.
+The anxious father couldn't find out where his son was, or even where he
+was likely to be. He engaged rooms at a hotel and spent a wretched
+afternoon at his club. Twenty-four hours dragged themselves by. He was
+wondering how much longer he could bear the strain, when the second
+telegram reached him.
+
+"Arrived Southampton. Destination unknown. Love. LIONEL."
+
+The Squire, you may be sure, shared these good tidings with many
+friends, who congratulated him warmly. Obviously, the wound must be
+light. Exasperations followed, thick and fast. Sir Geoffrey hurried to
+the War Office, and thence to the Admiralty, and finally to Waterloo,
+where, eventually, he had the joy of seeing his son step out of a train,
+with a much-bandaged head, but apparently fit and in the highest
+spirits. A bit of shrapnel had knocked him down, inflicting a
+superficial scalp-wound, which was healing rapidly. Across his overcoat
+was a perfectly-defined cut made by a bullet which had missed him and
+killed the man at his side. He shewed his father a scar upon his neck,
+where another bullet had grazed him. Lionel talked fast and fluently. He
+had been in innumerable small actions since Mons, and had seen whole
+regiments cut to bits.
+
+His destination for the moment was a private hospital for officers in
+Belgrave Square. There his wound was dressed, and Sir Geoffrey talked
+persuasively to the Sister-in-charge and Surgeon, who, under pressure,
+allowed their patient to dine with his father quietly at a club.
+
+Sir Geoffrey never forgot that dinner.
+
+War, as soldiers see it, was brought vividly home to him by a young man
+who talked of indescribable horrors as if they were negligible.
+Everything was accepted by Lionel as part of the "show." The father
+listened, thinking of the pin-pricks which, since August, had so
+irritated his sensitive skin, and felt grievously ashamed of himself.
+But, in Lionel's place, with Lionel's amazing experience, he, too, was
+sensible that he would talk coolly. That was part of the tradition of
+the Service. Tremendous issues must be so faced.
+
+He took his son back to Belgrave Square at half-past nine.
+
+Lionel slept soundly. The Squire lay awake most of the night. Throughout
+dinner, he had suppressed his feelings. And on the threshold of the
+nursing-home, the father had found no other words than these:
+
+"It's jolly to have you back again, old chap."
+
+That was all, and, perhaps, enough.
+
+In bed, the Squire had no inclination to sleep. He wanted to think
+things out. He wanted to adjust past and present conditions, to strike
+some happy mean between them. Could he interpret the significance of
+this never-ending slaughter? Lionel had told him of a German regiment
+pushing too far ahead, and annihilated, not a man left. That had been
+described, also, as a "show."
+
+More--and worse--Lionel ridiculed the suggestion of an early peace.
+Kitchener was under the mark. The war was quite likely to last five
+years.
+
+Five years!
+
+Men such as his son, decent, quiet, sport-loving chaps, admitted with a
+laugh--with a laugh!!!--that the enemy was "hot stuff," and that
+attrition would determine the end--and nothing else.
+
+Attrition.
+
+He attempted to envisage what attrition meant where millions were
+engaged. Put the lot at twenty millions. How many would perish? What
+Divine Purpose could be accomplished by such a holocaust?
+
+But his boy was safe for the next few weeks.
+
+Two days later he brought him back to Pomfret Court.
+
+Lionel received a soul-warming reception from gentle and simple within
+and without a five-mile radius of his home. Apart from the young man's
+personal charm and good looks, he happened to be the first officer to
+return home wounded. The fact that the wound was not serious, that he
+treated it as a convenient peg upon which to hang three weeks' leave,
+made no difference. Indeed, it increased rather than diminished his
+influence in Nether-Applewhite so far as recruiting was concerned. His
+gay voice, his happy inconsequence, the vitality that radiated from him
+as he moved briskly from cottage to cottage, or rode up to talk to men
+working upon the property, achieved effects so far-reaching that
+possibly Hamlin was the only man in the parish able to measure them. The
+Squire and Davenant had appealed trenchantly for volunteers, using the
+time-worn arguments of Authority and believing sincerely enough that
+deaf ears might hear their message if it were shouted loud enough. The
+Parson, wiser man, had appealed to those same ears believing, with
+greater conviction, that noise and violence, veiled threats, bribery in
+any form, would defeat their ends. Right action, he contended, would
+come from within, at the persuasive, insistent call of conscience.
+Lionel Pomfret hit the trail--to use the Western expression--which
+wanders between the high road and the low. Looking at the gallant
+fellow, sitting erect on his horse, it seemed clear even to eyes dimmed
+by living in the twilight of unintellectual surroundings, that he
+impersonated something which captivates the rural mind more than
+anything else--excitement. Lionel told the labourers, none of whom had
+been farther afield than Salisbury or Southampton, stories of France
+bubbling over with humour and high spirits. And if this
+light-heartedness had astonished his father, we can imagine what
+bewilderment it begat in simpler minds. Many of them realised that in
+holding back they were missing _fun_! One hardly dares to use such a
+word. But it burst, like a bomb, from the lips of a man who had been
+"out there," who had been "through it," who bore scars, and who laughed
+at them.
+
+Many joined up; more held back.
+
+Laugh as he did about everything that concerned his own adventures and
+misadventures, Lionel became intensely serious concerning the main
+issue, trembling still in the balance. Kitchener of Khartoum must have
+more and more men. Otherwise, the sacrifices made and the hardships
+endured by the splendid Seven Divisions would be in vain, and,
+ultimately, directly or indirectly, the enemy would triumph.
+
+Charles, the second footman, and the odd man, enlisted within a week of
+Lionel's return home. Their places in the establishment were taken by
+maids.
+
+Upon the first Sunday in February fill-dyke, Alfred Yellam walked out,
+as usual, with Fancy. She had noticed, during the Morning Service, that
+Mrs. Yellam's responses were not quite so fervent as usual, and the
+sermon, a good one, seemed to fail to hold Alfred's attention.
+Servant-maids are acute observers where their interests are concerned.
+They divine a frown before the master's forehead is wrinkled; they
+anticipate a harsh word before it is spoken by the mistress. Alfred
+walked beside Fancy in silence. This, taken by itself, was not
+disturbing. The more privileged classes often wonder why humbler couples
+sitting upon benches in the parks, or walking aimlessly amongst the
+trees, appear to be so satisfied with a silence which they stigmatise as
+stupidity. If, on the other hand, curiosity led our Olympians to
+interrogate the more thoughtful of these couples, they might be
+astonished to discover that the never-ending chatter in our
+drawing-rooms provokes much the same indictment from those whom they
+regard as far below them. The shrill screams of laughter, the
+parrot-house babble, fox-trotting, and the bacchantic waving of arms
+bare to the shoulder are often summed up as--"monkey-shines." To men and
+women who work desperately hard throughout the week, the silences of
+Sunday steal unawares, lapping them to a rest which is real refreshment.
+Fancy, for example, loved to stroll beside Alfred, feeling his sturdy
+arm about her waist, and knowing from its convincing pressure that his
+thoughts were dwelling upon her as hers dwelt upon him, revelling in a
+future which would bring them closer together.
+
+But, to-day, somehow, his silence was not so reassuring.
+
+For the time of year, the weather happened to be mild. Spring was abroad
+in the land. Fancy heard her voice in the bleating of the new-born
+lambs; she beheld her in the snow-drops; Spring's sweet breath beat upon
+a pink cheek when the south-west breeze sighed in the yews and
+pine-tops.
+
+And yet, misgivings assailed the maid.
+
+They had walked from the Vicarage, through Nether-Applewhite, and past
+Mrs. Yellam's cottage whither they would return for tea. Fancy had
+learnt to love the village with its general air of sleepy, comfortable
+prosperity. She would be perfectly content to live here all her days.
+Occasional jaunts to Sarum or to the exciting side-shows of Boscombe and
+Bournemouth could only serve to enhance the more solid charms of home.
+Alfred had spoken once, at the moment when they left the _Sir John
+Barleycorn_ tavern behind them.
+
+"Do you like William Saint, Fancy?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I don't know, Alfie. I ain't never spoken to him, nor him to me. 'Tis
+his face, I suppose."
+
+"Mother thinks he's a danger to me."
+
+"Gracious!"
+
+"William moves with the times, a far-seeing man. And snug, with money in
+bank and credit, too. Mother says he's after my business. I got ahead by
+buying my motor-'bus. Yes--William Saint might have sneaked my good
+business. He knows folk far and wide, as I do. That's bread and cheese
+to a carrier. And he knows how to tickle 'em with pleasant words. That's
+cakes and ale."
+
+He said no more. Fancy felt vaguely troubled. She had taken Alfred's
+profitable business for granted. Fellow-servants and villagers had
+assured her, with a sub-acid inflection underlying congratulation, that
+she was lucky indeed to have got so warm a man as the carrier. Like most
+of her class, she entertained nebulous ideas about how money was made,
+although she had been constrained all her life to use such money as came
+to her thriftily and with a very lively sense of its elusive attributes
+in slipping through careless fingers. The slow building-up of a business
+had never engrossed her thoughts. But she knew well enough, poor child,
+how rapidly such a business may disintegrate, and fall to pieces. That
+calamity had been her father's bitter experience.
+
+They followed the Avon, strolling leisurely up-stream till they reached
+a small covert much beloved by hunting-men because it always harboured a
+stout fox.
+
+"Let's go in wood," said Alfred.
+
+"Won't it be damp, dear?"
+
+"I want to talk to you."
+
+Her heart beat faster. Something was coming--What?
+
+Alfred led the way to a hurdler's hut, a rough shed, where the lovers
+sat down upon a heap of dry chips. A delicious smell of bark filled the
+air. George Mucklow had worked here often, before he was dragooned into
+the Army. With the smell of bark, dominating it, rose the odour of damp
+earth, always so significant, bearing its double message. From earth we
+have come; to it we must return. Fancy's sensitive nose could detect yet
+another odour. An ancient coat, much soiled by time and weather, had
+been thrown upon the pile of chips. In an olfactory sense the coat was
+eloquent of labour, of long perspiring hours and all that such hours
+hold. Fancy's nostrils were not offended. But she refused to sit on it.
+Alfred, wearing his Sunday best, was not so particular.
+
+He wasted little time in preliminaries. And he spoke with a geniality
+assumed, as Fancy guessed, for her benefit.
+
+"The young Captain," he began, "has stirred us all up with his pleasant
+tongue. Now don't jump! Let me tell my tale."
+
+He told it simply. Upon the previous Friday, it appeared, Alfred had
+fallen into talk with the Pavey boys, who worked on a farm between
+Nether-Applewhite and Salisbury. The Paveys were reckoned by Sir
+Geoffrey to be stout specimens of sound breeding. Jemima Pavey, it may
+be recalled, "walked out" with William Busketts, the odd man. It is
+likely, therefore, that the enlistment of William affected profoundly
+Jemima's brothers, both single, both of military age. Alfred, urged on,
+no doubt, by Lionel Pomfret, had taken upon himself the task of
+persuading the Paveys to follow William to the wars. According to
+Alfred, a hot discussion had ensued. The Paveys were regarded by the
+Squire as sound in body but weak and plastic of mind. Wiser men than the
+Autocrat of Nether-Applewhite consistently underrated the intelligence
+of young men like the Paveys, abnormally acute when stimulated by
+self-interest. Ultimately, so Alfred said, the Paveys had twitted him
+offensively upon the fact that he preached what he did not practise.
+And, oddly enough, poor Alfred was not prepared for this sudden turning
+of tables. He, too, was single and of military age. The fact that he
+happened to be engaged in a lucrative business served to sharpen railing
+tongues. At long last, after much vituperation (as Alfred admitted) on
+both sides, the Paveys had delivered a momentous ultimatum. They pledged
+themselves to enlist at once, if Alfred agreed to join them. More, they
+were prepared to answer for half-a-dozen others. To gain time for
+thought, Alfred invited them to obtain some similar pledge from these
+others. And, before Service that morning, the pledge had been
+forthcoming. In time, if Alfred donned khaki, eight of the best would
+follow so striking an example. Alfred concluded pleasantly:
+
+"You see, Fancy, that I'm up against it."
+
+Engrossed with his own exciting narrative, he had failed to notice her.
+From the beginning of the tale to the end, she never moved. The
+impending sword had fallen upon her frail body, lacerating cruelly every
+fibre of her being. All fears, all sensibilities which from birth had
+differentiated her from more robust young women, sensibilities which
+dwelt upon things spiritual rather than material, sensibilities which
+had been further quickened by her father's unmerited misfortunes,
+constraining her early in life to envisage the future as likely to hold
+more pain than pleasure, these rose up and choked utterance. Had Alfred
+looked at her, at this poignant moment, his decision--not as yet
+reached---might have been different. He looked away from her, staring
+through the open side of the hut, seeing the rows and rows of trees,
+standing like soldiers, awaiting the inevitable axe.
+
+Presently Fancy said quietly:
+
+"Have you spoken to your mother? Does she know?"
+
+Alfred turned, taking her hand. But the supreme moment had passed. Fancy
+was now herself again, or rather she had become what her will and
+conscience made her to appear--an outwardly calm young woman, who,
+having swiftly read her own soul, was seeking to read the soul of the
+man beside her.
+
+Alfred answered hesitatingly:
+
+"Mother's wonderful. I never quite understand her. I ain't said a word,
+but back of her dear mind is something."
+
+"Are you going to tell her?"
+
+Alfred squirmed a little, certain that Mrs. Yellam would oppose his
+going. And he could not reckon accurately what obedience he owed to a
+mother in such a matter. He said gently:
+
+"Never mind that, Fancy. What do you say?"
+
+He held her hand tightly, but sat beside her rigid as she was.
+Afterwards, again and again, she wondered what her reply would have been
+if her lover, at such a crisis, had appealed to her body instead of to
+her mind. If he had seized her in his arms, kissing her passionately,
+evoking a passionate response from her, exciting her physical senses,
+lulling to sleep her conscience, could she have resisted such an appeal?
+
+It was not made. Did he deliberately leave her free to speak calmly, as
+he had spoken? Was he thinking of her? Was he thinking of his mother?
+Who could blame him if all thought were focussed upon himself? And his
+next words confirmed her suspicion that it was impossible for any man,
+at such a time, to wean consideration from issues so personal and so
+insistent.
+
+"That's why I spoke to you about William Saint. If I go, Fancy, I must
+find a man to take my place, see? 'Taint likely as I'll find anybody who
+knows folk as I knows 'em. And if William Saint sneaks in, maybe I won't
+find what I leave when I come back."
+
+He spoke very earnestly, gripping her hand. Her sympathy for him welled
+up, drowning all thoughts of self. Alfred had leapt to heights. She
+realised the extent of the sacrifice he might make. And she felt,
+instinctively, that the sacrifice would be made. A curious exaltation
+possessed her. Alfred had thrilled her soul. If he went, true
+patriotism, as Mr. Hamlin interpreted the elusive word, would be behind
+his going. And he looked so stolid, dear man, so unconscious of the
+spiritual forces stirring within him.
+
+She said impulsively:
+
+"You mean to go, Alfie?"
+
+"If you approve."
+
+She drew a deeper breath. Then the decision rested with her. If she
+burst into tears, if she flung herself into his arms, if she whispered
+to him, blushingly, the arguments which come pat to any woman's tongue,
+when her happiness is at stake, he would stay. The burden laid upon her
+seemed greater than she could bear. Her withers were wrung. In her
+perplexity she lurched here and there, staggeringly. She caught at
+straws.
+
+"And if your mother disapproves?"
+
+"Ah-h-h! Maybe she will."
+
+"But, if she does--? Answer me, Alfie. I be hanging on your words."
+
+He said heavily:
+
+"I ain't one for argument. I only know this, dear, if I go, others will
+go, too. And the men are wanted, so Captain Lionel says. And if he says
+so, 'tis so. I feel as I ought to go, if you approve. When it comes to
+Mother, I'm weak-kneed. If I leave her out, Fancy, 'tis because I know
+what's tearing her, the thought of the graves in churchyard. 'Tain't in
+Mother as 'tis in you, to stand hand in hand with me, and forget her
+dear self."
+
+Desperately, she clutched at another straw.
+
+"You may be right, Alfie, about Mr. Saint--I don't like him. I feel,
+someway, that he will do as you say, sneak in behind your back, and rob
+you of what you have worked so hard for. Could you stand that?"
+
+"'Twould be a rare twister, Fancy. But the men are wanted."
+
+He spoke with no fire, no enthusiasm. The men were wanted. That,
+apparently, had become an obsession. Dared she temporise any further?
+Was this the opportunity, never to be presented again, of which Mr.
+Hamlin had spoken?
+
+"If you feel like that, Alfie, you must go. I--I couldn't lift a finger
+to hold you back. I am proud," her voice faltered, "to belong to such a
+man."
+
+The victory was won.
+
+Reaction followed quickly. They clung to each other. Fancy cried,
+knowing that tears would lighten her heart. Alfred kissed them away. He
+set himself, resolutely, the task of cheering her up. The war might be
+over before he was ready to serve in France. William Saint had his own
+business. One that exacted constant attention. No doubt a trusty fellow
+could be found to drive the 'bus.
+
+At tea, no trace of the storm could be discerned on their smiling faces.
+
+But Mrs. Yellam knew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
+
+
+Alfred Yellam enlisted. But only seven out of the eight other young men
+enlisted with him. To the amazement of Nether-Applewhite, Adam Mucklow,
+a married man, took the place of the shirker. And this was not under
+pressure from Uncle, although he tried (and failed) to "touch" old
+Captain Davenant for another half-sovereign. Possibly the sight of the
+effulgent George--a younger brother not held in the highest esteem by
+Adam--had its effect; possibly, also, Adam had been swept off his large
+feet by Lionel Pomfret; possibly, again, Hamlin's good seed may have
+sprouted in somewhat thin soil. Motives must not be analysed too
+closely.
+
+Susan Yellam and Jane Mucklow said nothing. Susan may have realised that
+protest would be wasted; Jane, probably, was just as shrewd. Each woman
+cherished a bitter grievance, hiding it grimly from inquisitive eyes.
+Each read the heart of the other, and still remained silent. Each,
+however, was proud to be the mother of a valiant son. Mrs. Yellam never
+knew that a tremendous decision had been left to Fancy. She took for
+granted that Fancy felt as she did, and the pale, anxious face of the
+girl confirmed this conviction. Alfred, you may be sure, made Fancy
+promise to keep silence concerning what passed in the fox-covert. To her
+dying day let the mother believe that the son had acted "on his own,"
+without consulting another. Fancy sighed and consented. What did it
+matter? What did anything matter now that Alfred was going? During these
+last few days, the spiritual part of her seemed dead. Triumph appeared
+to have killed it! But her will prevailed over the weakness of the
+flesh. Alfred must see no more tears. Her smile was the most pathetic
+memory which he took with him from Nether-Applewhite.
+
+Before "joining-up," he gave two presents to the women he loved. To his
+mother he brought a wire-haired fox-terrier, pure white save for one
+round black spot between the ears and an oval black spot upon the loins.
+The dog was nine months old and clean thoroughbred, the son of a famous
+prize-winner. Alfred paid five pounds for him. Mrs. Yellam was
+profoundly moved; and the dog seemed to acclaim her as mistress at
+sight, jumping into her ample lap and licking her hand.
+
+"What shall we call him, Mother?" asked Alfred.
+
+Mrs. Yellam studied the dog's lineaments. His eyes sparkled as shrewdly
+as her own.
+
+"He looks wonnerful wise," she said. "Wise as Solomon, he be."
+
+"Then we'll call him--Solomon."
+
+And it was so. Solomon--soon abbreviated into "Sol"--wagged his short
+tail approvingly.
+
+To Fancy Alfred presented a bicycle, and with it these words:
+
+"Vicarage is nigh three-quarters of a mile from Mother's cottage. I want
+you to see Mother whenever 'tis possible. I know her. She'll keep
+herself to herself, thinking her own thoughts, and they'll be hard
+thoughts, Fancy. You'll help to soften 'em, dear, won't you?"
+
+"Indeed I will."
+
+"Parson'll let you off, afternoons, for an hour, maybe; and the bike'll
+make all the difference. I see you nipping down in no time."
+
+"I shall love that, if Mr. Hamlin can spare me."
+
+Alfred laughed gaily.
+
+"I've spoken a word to him. And a kinder gentleman, in spite of his
+coldish face, I never met. He shook hands with me, and told me you
+should have a whiff of fresh air."
+
+And thus it was cosily arranged.
+
+To find a responsible, capable fellow to take his place as village
+carrier, and to drive the precious 'bus, was not so easy of achievement.
+But this, too, was managed through Mr. Hamlin. Alfred said uneasily:
+
+"I ask you, sir, to keep an eye on William Saint."
+
+"William Saint?"
+
+"He's crafty as any fox, sir, and a rare pusher. Mother fears that he
+may push himself into my good business."
+
+Hamlin promised to bear this possibility in mind. Then Alfred, with
+groanings and travailings, delivered himself of the last burden on his
+mind:
+
+"I'm sore troubled about Mother."
+
+Hamlin held his tongue.
+
+"She's taking this hard, but not a word does she say, not one. She
+thinks, I know, that God Almighty has forsaken her, pore soul. Such a
+mort o' trouble as she's had, too. My going seems the last straw.
+'Twouldn't be so bad, if all the young men had gone first."
+
+"I can imagine what she feels, Alfred. This is a time of sore trial to
+all of us, and, perhaps, the strongest suffer most. I will do what I can
+to comfort her, but I can do so little. In all my life I have never felt
+before how cheap mere words are. Now, go your way with a glad heart. Put
+these anxieties from you, hopefully, and so you will do your duty the
+better. God bless you!"
+
+Alfred duly departed.
+
+Before Lionel returned to France, the Squire's ardent desire was
+granted. He became the happy grandfather of a stout boy, with his sire's
+blue eyes and clear skin--a ten-pounder!
+
+To celebrate this glorious event, the Squire built a shrine and
+dedicated it to the men of Nether-Applewhite who had answered the call
+to arms. It took the form of a fountain, with a granite trough for
+watering horses. Inside the fountain might be found a great slab of
+white marble with the names of the young fellows, in order, inscribed
+upon it in dull gold lettering, a very notable monument, as Uncle
+observed. It stood below the Church, opposite to the _Pomfret Arms_, in
+an open space where roads branched. Folk, from far and near, came to
+look at it.
+
+From the recruiting point of view, the fountain, as was generally
+admitted, furnished inspiration together with pure water to thirsty
+souls.
+
+When Lionel went back to France, a drab pall of apathy settled again
+upon the village. Mrs. Yellam spent every morning at Pomfret Court,
+returning to her cottage after the mid-day meal, which she helped to
+serve. Fancy would dash down to see her after five o'clock tea. Within
+six weeks Alfred appeared in khaki, with forty-eight hours' leave. He
+had joined an infantry regiment, somewhat to his regret, for he had a
+leg for a kilt, and remembered the resplendent appearance of "No Account
+Harry."
+
+"The Highlanders were in my mind, Mother. I'd a notion to enlist with
+them, but 'twas not to be."
+
+Susan Yellam said reflectively:
+
+"I prefer the Grannydeer Guards, to they Seafarin' Highlanders, Alfie."
+
+"Ah-h-h! I might have gone for a horse-soldier, but when they told me
+'twould be my pleasure and duty to keep my horse cleaner than myself, I
+thought twice about it. 'Tis a hard life, dear, but I feel wonderful
+strong, with a tremendous stomach for my victuals."
+
+His appearance delighted Fancy.
+
+They were photographed together, arm in crook, travelling to Salisbury
+as passengers in Alfred's 'bus, which provoked many jests. But when
+Alfred went back to duty the corners in two hearts seemed more empty
+than before.
+
+Meanwhile, Tommies had taken the place of Belgians at Pomfret Court,
+much to the satisfaction of the maids in the village. They were an
+amazing set of fellows, so the Squire decided, guests after his own
+heart, always ready to crack a joke, grousing about trifles, simply
+splendid when they discoursed about the war. Some of them, unlike the
+Belgians, were impatient to return to the front. They talked pleasantly
+of the enemy whom they spoke of generically as "Fritz." The
+kindest-hearted of the first lot, a little Cockney, bubbling over with
+fun and high spirits, ever ready to help the "Sisters" in any job that
+came to the one hand that had not been left in France, gloried in the
+distinction of having been in a bayonet charge. The Squire, much
+interested, asked for details, gleefully forthcoming.
+
+"Yer see red, sir. I got after a fat 'Un. Lord lumme! 'E run a fair
+treat, 'e did. But I stuck him to rights. I lost my 'ead though.
+Couldn't see nothink nor nobody except 'im. In my silly 'aste I missed
+some fine opportoonities."
+
+"Opportunities?"
+
+"Wounded 'Uns, sir, lyin' there to me 'and. I might 'ave 'ad
+'arf-a-dozen notches on my old rifle, instead of one!"
+
+"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Sir Geoffrey.
+
+"Yer see, sir, we knows what they done to women and children."
+
+By this time. George Mucklow and the first to join were at the front,
+and every Sunday, during Morning Service, Mr. Hamlin would stand up,
+before the Litany, and read out the names on the Roll of Honour. The
+congregation, after Service, remained quietly in the church till the
+National Anthem had been sung.
+
+Mrs. Yellam sat alone in her pew, rigidly upright.
+
+At home, alone in the evening, she talked to her dog. Solomon would sit
+in front of her, staring up into her massive face, with one ear
+half-cocked, very alert, very sympathetic.
+
+"You be a wondersome dog."
+
+Solomon's tail flickered.
+
+"You knows more'n they donkeys as walks on two legs."
+
+Solomon winked.
+
+"You knows what a hard old flint I be, same as I digs up in garden."
+
+Solomon laid a protesting paw upon her knee.
+
+"You knows that I be tried beyond my powers, that I be mazed and dazed
+beyond what tongue can tell."
+
+Solomon leaped into her lap, and attempted to lick her face.
+
+"No, no, Solly; my kissing days be over."
+
+Solomon refused to believe this.
+
+"You knows, too, that my Alferd be going to the wars, and he won't come
+back. 'Twill kill that pore white-faced lil' maid. But 'twon't kill me,
+I be too tough, Sol. I be getting tougher. And I get no taste out o'
+life neither. I be so wicked that, times, I could lift my hand to kill
+they who stay behind, guzzling ale, grinning because they think
+theirselves so clever! I fair wonders that you can love so wicked an old
+'ooman as I be."
+
+Solomon, as a last reassuring protest, would curl up and fall asleep.
+Mrs. Yellam would sit on, staring into the fire, trying to adjust the
+workings of the Divine Mind with her own perplexed intelligence. Often
+kindly sleep would come to the rescue, and she would wake with a start
+to find the fire burnt out and the kitchen cold. But Solomon lay snug
+and warm against her.
+
+Many persons, besides Mrs. Yellam, were mazed and dazed during these
+Spring days. At Neuve Chapelle, our cavalry had their feet in stirrup
+ready to ride down the enemy, when a thick mist rolled up and balked
+them of their prey. Jupiter Pluvius seemed to be fighting against us.
+The appalling earthquake in Italy was joyously affirmed by Germans to be
+God's judgment upon an ally who had deserted them. Strikes in the
+industrial parts, Irish troubles going from bad to worse, seemed to
+indicate the chastening hand of Omnipotence.
+
+But we had accomplished a mighty miracle.
+
+Five hundred thousand men were in France, and not a life lost during the
+perilous operations connected with transport.
+
+And then came the crushing disaster of the _Lusitania_. A wave of horror
+and rage swept over the country. Till now, Lissauer's "Hymn of Hate" had
+aroused ridicule, not resentment, amongst English-speaking peoples. The
+Belgian atrocities, known in all their horror to very few, had been
+accepted as the handiwork of brutes driven mad by drink and blood-lust,
+not as the systematic, inspired doctrine of Frightfulness. But when all
+Germany rose up to justify the slaughter of helpless women and children,
+when streets were beflagged, medals struck, and the schools held
+holiday, the nation began, at last, to grasp the truth. Might meant to
+stick at nothing.
+
+Recruiting, in the rural districts, received a sharp stimulus.
+
+Fancy, lying awake at night, shed many tears, but none before Mrs.
+Yellam. The pair, so strangely different, got on well together, because,
+so Susan said, the girl was not a chatter-box. Often they would meet and
+part without exchanging more than a dozen words. Fancy would help with
+the work, the never-ending cleaning and sweeping, or take some sewing
+and sit by the kitchen fire in silence. These quiet ways endeared her
+more and more to Alfred's mother, and occasionally, very seldom, Fancy
+would be vouchsafed a glimpse of an indurated heart. She had noticed
+that Mrs. Yellam avoided any direct reference to the Deity, Whose name,
+before the war, had been so often on her lips, the personal God, Whose
+guiding finger, even in trivial, domestic affairs, could be so plainly
+seen. One day, on the eve of Alfred's departure for France, Fancy said
+nervously:
+
+"God will be with Alfred."
+
+Mrs. Yellam said quickly:
+
+"He be wi' the Kayser, too, seemin'ly."
+
+Instantly she closed her lips, as if fearful that more might leak from
+them. Fancy remained discreetly silent. She comforted herself with this
+reflection: faith in works sustained this unhappy old woman. She
+laboured abundantly for others at Pomfret Court, and tended her garden
+diligently so that she might have fruit and flowers and vegetables to
+bestow upon poorer neighbours. In church, her responses were clear and
+regular, her deportment irreproachable, but she never discussed the
+sermon, once a favourite mental exercise, and Fancy came to the
+conclusion that she no longer listened to it, too much obsessed by her
+own perplexities.
+
+About this time Nether-Applewhite was electrified out of its apathy by
+an extraordinary event, something so unexpected that Hamlin himself, who
+had foreshadowed such a remote possibility in his sermon on Patriotism,
+began to wonder if he had been inspired.
+
+George Mucklow won the Victoria Cross!
+
+This heavy, stolid young man, who shut both eyes when his shins were
+imperilled by a cricket-ball, who was "afeard wi' maids," who had been
+driven to the colours before the toe of a thick boot, performed one of
+those deeds that thrill an Empire. Fortunately for him, the tremendous
+opportunity of which Hamlin had spoken came at a moment when Authority
+was looking on, and able to record what took place. George confessed
+afterwards that at the time he didn't know what he did, or how he did
+it. Out of some subconscious zone surged the irresistible impulse
+blindly obeyed. A shell fell in the trenches at a moment when the
+officer on duty was making his rounds. Not an "Archie" or a "Black
+Maria" but something smaller than a football. Dozens of men were close
+to it. George darted past the officer and hurled himself upon it.
+
+_It didn't explode!_
+
+Within a week, George's photograph was given pride of place in
+half-a-dozen newspapers. And then the supreme decoration was conferred.
+He returned home on leave; the King pinned to his tunic the bronze
+cross; Jane Mucklow and Uncle witnessed the ceremony; George came back
+to Nether-Applewhite with his parents, and was the hero of another
+function when Sir Geoffrey Pomfret presented him with a gold watch and
+chain, a tribute from the Squire of the parish, and a well-lined purse,
+the gift of the parishioners.
+
+The effect on Uncle may be imagined. For ever after he associated
+himself with George as owning an undivided half interest in the cross,
+and in describing the glorious deed he assumed the royal plural, and
+with it some of the attributes of a monarch.
+
+"Us was standing at attention," he would say, "as I be standing now,
+when the dam thing falls slam-bang in front of we. Neighbours, 'twas a
+moment as won't bear thinking on. Many souls all unfit for Kingdom Come.
+What does we do? We falls atop o' that there cannon-ball--'twas big
+enough to blow a thousand fellers to glory--and hugs it to our buzzums.
+'Tain't a thing to brag about, but us was in the noospapers, and--and,
+well, you knows the end on't--Buckingham Pallis! And, believe me or not,
+neighbours, but this be sober truth. Me and King Garge was hobnobbing
+together for the space of one mortial minute, just so friendly and kind
+as true brothers. I nodded to 'un, as I nods to you, and, by Jo! he nods
+back to me."
+
+Jane Mucklow had believed that George would perish in his first action.
+He had come triumphantly through half-a-dozen. And, to-day, he wore the
+proudest decoration that England's King can bestow. At a bound, she
+became an impassioned optimist. She discerned clearly the hand of
+Providence. King George was beheld as the Lord's Anointed. Queen Mary
+towered higher than he as the sacrosanct Mother. Mrs. Mucklow had her
+tale to tell, and told it with Uncle's unction and satisfaction.
+
+"Queen Mary looked at my Garge as if 'twas her own dear son. Yes, she
+did. And then she smiles sweetly at me. I tell 'ee this--Queeny Mary was
+just so proud o' my Garge as I be. A good, kind 'ooman! I allows that,
+now and again, I ha' raised my blasphemious voice against they crowned
+heads, believing in my every-day way that they wore golden crowns when
+we pore folks was a-wearing made-over bonnets. Such wicked thoughts be
+clean gone from me. I be fair aching to sing 'God save the Queen' next
+Sunday morning."
+
+A neighbour remarked timidly:
+
+"Lard bless 'ee, Jane Mucklow, we sings 'God save the King.'"
+
+Jane answered solemnly:
+
+"You sings what you please. I began my life singing 'God save the
+Queen.' And I means to sing it again next Sunday."
+
+But the glory that encompassed her nephew's thick head as with a halo
+flickered like a farthing dip in the mind of Susan Yellam. Her poor
+heart was lacerated by envy and jealousy. If George were indeed chosen
+by Providence to wear the Victoria Cross, what decoration would He award
+to her Alfred? The press had laid emphasis upon George being amongst the
+first to volunteer. If Queeny Mary knew the whole truth, would she have
+smiled sweetly at George's mother? Not she!
+
+She laid the matter before Solomon that same night, after the memorable
+function which took place at the Shrine.
+
+"Solly, my soul be in sore trouble."
+
+Solomon considered this attentively.
+
+"Yes, my dog, I be setting in the seat o' the scornful. I be weary o' my
+groanings. I ha' conceived sorrow and brought forth ungodliness."
+
+Solomon whined.
+
+"Why be this change come upon me, Solly? 'Tis written: Upon the ungodly
+He shall rain fire and brimstone, storm and tempest. But, to-day,
+seemingly, that be the lot o' the godly and the fatherless. To the
+ungodly be given Victoria Crosses."
+
+Solomon sat up and begged his mistress to be silent.
+
+She concluded sorrowfully:
+
+"I be cast down, and they that trouble me will rejoice at it."
+
+Solomon leapt into her lap, and thrust his nice cold nose against her
+cheek.
+
+Hamlin visited her from time to time, but as friend, not priest. Wisely,
+he bided his time to speak, wondering when the right moment would come.
+She received him respectfully, answered his questions, enquired after
+Mr. Edward, who had just received his Sam Brown belt, and then relapsed
+into exasperating silence.
+
+Meanwhile, Mr. William Saint had not neglected his opportunities. The
+man chosen by Hamlin and Alfred to "carry on" during Alfred's absence
+was sober and honest, but a poor talker. Saint bought a motor-'bus in
+May, which he used at first to take passengers to and from the railway
+station, some four miles distant. At the same time, he made arrangements
+to entertain summer guests, renting a small house with a garden
+overlooking the Avon, which served as an annexe for middle class
+trippers, elderly spinsters who drew in water-colours, officers' wives
+with children, and professional men seeking a little cheap fishing.
+Saint drove the 'bus himself, engaging a good-looking young woman to
+take his place in the bar. Now and again he made expeditions to
+Salisbury, filling his 'bus with strangers who wished to see the
+Cathedral. Before June was out, he started a bi-weekly trip. In July he
+began carrying parcels.
+
+Hamlin, accordingly, said a word to the Squire. But what could be done?
+The Squire and he stuck faithfully to the regular carrier. Others
+consulted their own convenience. Mrs. Yellam told Fancy that Alfred's
+business was steadily diminishing in volume.
+
+"Have you told Alfred?" asked Fancy.
+
+"No. And don't 'ee tell him, neither."
+
+"Not me. Anyways, so long as dear Alfred be safe and well, I shan't
+worry about money matters."
+
+Mrs. Yellam said tartly:
+
+"Folks wi' no money to lose can allers sleep sound at nights." Then,
+realising that she had slapped an innocent cheek, she added in a
+pleasanter voice: "If Alferd keep safe and well, he'll downscramble this
+raskil so soon as he be homealong."
+
+Fancy kissed her.
+
+"He will be homealong soon," she whispered.
+
+"How do 'ee know? You ain't got a letter saying so?"
+
+"N-n-no."
+
+Mrs. Yellam's voice became testy again.
+
+"Then how do 'ee know?"
+
+Fancy hesitated, blushing. But Mrs. Yellam pressed her point. Finally,
+the girl made confession. When Alfred went to France, she had consulted
+the cards.
+
+Mrs. Yellam exploded. What ridiculous notions young maids got, to be
+sure! Cards, indeed! Very scornfully, she informed Fancy of the
+existence of a so-called wise woman, half-gypsy, who lived in a
+tumble-down cottage at Ocknell.
+
+"You go and see that old grammer. 'Twill cost 'ee sixpence. For a
+shillin' she'll tell 'ee a fine fortin, marry 'ee to a young lord, and
+make 'ee the mother o' nine children. I ha' no patience wi' such
+tricks."
+
+Fancy said humbly:
+
+"Alfred thinks it foolishness, just as you do, but ..."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"The lady in Salisbury, as taught me, did say that I should marry a
+soldier. Alfred laughed at that, till--till he became one."
+
+"You bain't married to a soldier yet."
+
+"No. That's true."
+
+Fancy sighed. Mrs. Yellam went on with some knitting. Suddenly, she said
+sharply:
+
+"What did they cards say?"
+
+Fancy smiled faintly.
+
+"They said that Alfred would come back--soon."
+
+Mrs. Yellam knitted on. After a long pause, she pronounced a verdict.
+
+"I bain't one to talk about what I don't understand. If so be as Alfred
+comes back soon, and if he marries 'ee, I may own up that cards do tell
+truth sometimes."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE EMPTY PEW
+
+
+After her Alfred went to the front, Mrs. Yellam's interest in the
+Tommies who had been "over the top" became more acute. She listened to
+everything said, regardless of a timely caution from Lionel Pomfret,
+who, before he rejoined his battalion, warned her that Mr. Atkins, with
+all his glorious qualities, was not too scrupulous a respecter of the
+truth. When the wounded men fell to talking amongst themselves, or
+before sympathetic females, the hypercritical might have noted a valiant
+determination on the part of each speaker to go "one better" than his
+predecessor. And the essential fact that these boys, most of them under
+twenty-five years of age, laughed at and chaffed each other when
+relating horrors merely piled Pelion upon Ossa in the mind of Mrs.
+Yellam. It seemed to her--and to how many more mothers?--that none could
+escape death or mutilation. One man was dumb from shell-shock. A "Black
+Maria" had buried him and ten others. He alone survived, unable to tell
+in speech what he had undergone. Mrs. Yellam paid this man particular
+attention, because her imagination was lively enough to realise what
+loss of speech would mean to herself. She told Jane Mucklow, with
+portentous shakings of the head, that the poor lad had lost his tongue
+for evermore. What else could be expected? Jane, now in happier mood,
+remarked sententiously that miracles still happened. Mrs. Yellam smiled
+grimly, wondering whether Jane was thinking of what George had done and
+accounted that achievement a miracle. And Jane could afford to take a
+rosy view of life, inasmuch as Adam was still in England, and George,
+with a view to stimulating recruiting, had been given a snug billet at
+the dépôt of his regiment. All the credit due to George had, by this
+time, been assumed by Uncle. He not only took part, as has been said, in
+the heart-thrilling exploit, but assured everybody that the valour of
+his son had been begotten in him by a sire known far and wide to be
+without fear, the Bayard of the countryside! Jane accepted this
+hypothesis with creditable derision. She would say in reply to strangers
+avid for details: "Do 'ee talk to Garge's father. _He was there!_ Garge
+be his father's son from stem to starn. My boy'd ha' behaved hisself
+very different. He'd ha' crawled down a rabbit-hole, he would, so be as
+one were handy."
+
+Some strangers, pleased with this whimsical exposition, pressed money
+into Jane's hand, which she accepted with a humble and grateful heart,
+adding even more slily: "Thank 'ee very kindly. Money be scarce wi' us,
+since my dear husband's son won the Victoria Cross, because the father
+o' such a notable hero has to drink his brave boy's health so many times
+a day."
+
+One memorable night, when most of the Tommies were asleep in the Saloon,
+the dumb man burst into excited speech, and talked for about two hours,
+to the delight of seventeen comrades. When Mrs. Yellam heard the
+wonderful news next morning, she was immensely comforted. That afternoon
+Fancy noticed a change in her, and was emboldened to strike iron when it
+happened to be hot.
+
+"Miracles do happen," she affirmed, with an odd expression upon her pale
+little face.
+
+Mrs. Yellam passed no remark on this. In her opinion, formulated long
+before the war, miracles had been wrought long ago in the misty,
+prehistoric times of the apostles, and not since. Fancy continued
+nervously:
+
+"A miracle happened to me."
+
+"What do you say, child? A miracle happened to--_you_?"
+
+Fancy nodded. As a little girl, during her school-days, she had told her
+tale many times with the abominable conviction that it failed to
+convince, although it might excite astonishment and sympathy. When she
+grew older and more reserved she ceased to tell it, wincing from
+incredulity. She hated to tell it to this austere old woman, whose
+tongue could be so sharp, but impulse conquered apprehension.
+
+"I was four years old at the time. And I was playing in the street just
+opposite to our house with some other children. A great dog came rushing
+down on us, snapping right and left. Folks said afterwards he was mad,
+but I don't know. Someway he was killed, so Father told me, before that
+was made certain; killed and buried."
+
+"A mad dog! My!"
+
+"The other children ran away. I--I didn't."
+
+"Why ever not?"
+
+"I couldn't. I stood still, all of a dreadful tremble. And he came bang
+at me."
+
+"What a fearsome tale! You pore lil' maid!"
+
+Up to this point of the narrative, Fancy had generally received just
+such sympathy, particularly when telling the story to mothers. She
+paused; her cheeks flushed; but her large eyes rested tranquilly upon
+the eyes of Susan Yellam.
+
+"Well, dear, go on!"
+
+"When the dog was quite close, I saw Mother."
+
+Mrs. Yellam gasped.
+
+"You saw your mother, who was dead!"
+
+"I never think of Mother as dead. Yes, I saw Mother standing between me
+and the dog. She never looked at me; she looked at the dog. And the dog
+saw her."
+
+"I never heard such a tale in all my life."
+
+"The dog saw her. He stopped of a sudden, turned, and went
+back--howling. And I howled, too. Mother turned as the dog turned, and
+give me one beautiful look. Then she went."
+
+Mrs. Yellam grasped the arms of her chair, still staring into Fancy's
+artless face. But no outburst of incredulity escaped from her as Fancy
+had feared it would. Her logical mind grappled with the facts as
+presented. She said, after a long pause:
+
+"You thought you saw her."
+
+"No. I did see her--plain as plain."
+
+"But, Fancy dear, seeing as she died afore you was born, how did 'ee
+know 'twas she?"
+
+"I'd seen Mother ever so often before."
+
+"When and how?"
+
+After some hesitation, Fancy narrated, with many details, her psychic
+experiences not only with her mother but with the four Evangelists. The
+girl's mordant anxiety that the astounding tale should be believed bit
+deep into the elder woman's heart. To Fancy's delight no incredulity was
+expressed. And Mrs. Yellam's face remained calm and kind. Solomon
+listened, also, with singular alertness and an eager intelligence which,
+to Fancy, indicated full belief. Indeed, Solomon seemed to be saying to
+himself: "Yes, yes, we know about that. We see things every day that
+would astonish all of you, if we were allowed to talk about them." And,
+in the middle of the story, the dog, that never showed any affection for
+others in the presence of his mistress, leapt suddenly into Fancy's lap
+and remained there. Long afterwards, Mrs. Yellam admitted that this mark
+of confidence upon Sol's part had impressed her. Inwardly she explained
+things quite to her satisfaction. She beheld Fancy as a four-year-old, a
+tiny mite, all eyes, physically weak, the victim of a perfervid
+imagination. Her own little girl, Lizzie, physically robust, would
+invent somewhat similar stories about tramps and sweeps quite as
+apocryphal as these tales of communings with Matthew and Mark. She
+remembered smacking Lizzie, and telling her that she was a little liar.
+No doubt, Fancy's father, rather a weakling, has encouraged the mite.
+Since Alfred's engagement, Mrs. Yellam had met Mr. Broomfield, and
+summed him up trenchantly as half a man.
+
+However, she kept such thoughts to herself, saying quietly:
+
+"You be a strange girl, Fancy, but you speaks what you believes to be
+sober truth, and I love 'ee."
+
+Fancy had to be satisfied with this.
+
+The first year of the war came to an end.
+
+So far, Nether-Applewhite had been fortunate. None of the young men had
+been killed; none had been seriously wounded. And it was generally held
+that "Fritz" couldn't stick another winter. Alfred became a sergeant.
+Mrs. Yellam appeared in her pew, next Sunday, wearing a new bonnet. But,
+coming out of church, she met William Saint, and cut him dead. She now
+thought of him, habitually, as a "Prooshian," out for world-dominion.
+When her Alfred returned from the wars, he would smash William Saint.
+The triumph of such a "sneak" must be short-lived. Like the Kayser, he
+had sold himself, body and soul, to Satan. Satan would claim his own in
+God A'mighty's good time. Renewed belief in a Personal Deity had crept
+back into a heart less indurated. But He remained there, so to speak, on
+sufferance. At any moment, He might be driven out, as before.
+Omnipotence, so Mrs. Yellam argued during many vigils, could not be
+reasonably regarded as such if Satan triumphed unduly. It is to be
+feared that a daily motor-'bus service to Salisbury and back under the
+auspices of William Saint would have been regarded as a Satanic triumph.
+But such a service, as yet, had not been inaugurated.
+
+Alfred wrote home once a week, alternately to Fancy and his mother. The
+life agreed with him. Obviously he accepted rough and smooth
+philosophically, regarding himself as a part of a vast machine that
+would "rampage" on with or without him. Although he was careful to keep
+from his mother and Fancy the horrors which they heard from the wounded
+soldiers, now and again some careless phrase would reveal,
+illuminatingly, everything that the good fellow wished to suppress.
+
+"You enjoy your food as never was," he wrote, "when you know that any
+square meal may be the last. A chum of mine got it yesterday. And he was
+smoking a Woodbine I gave him. The man next him, as told me all about
+it, finished the Woodbine. I couldn't help laughing."
+
+"Sometimes," said Mrs. Yellam, deliberately, "I thinks they be all mad."
+She turned almost fiercely upon Fancy. "Why did he laugh, my boy as
+hated to kill a fly?"
+
+Fancy hazarded a conjecture.
+
+"Men are not so very, very different from us women. I often laugh to
+save myself crying."
+
+Mrs. Yellam admitted that there might be something in this.
+
+The Squire was busy with his bailiff, fattening bullocks, and, generally
+speaking, trying to increase his flocks and herds. In this task, he
+found an enthusiastic partner in Fishpingle, who possessed two obsessing
+interests: love of the land and love of the Pomfrets. Nobody, except the
+Squire and Lady Pomfret knew that this quiet, handsome old man, so
+distinguished in appearance, and so choice in his use of words, might
+have been lord of the manor, had he marched into life along the broad
+highway which leads from the altar. Fate ordained otherwise. Fishpingle
+had been constrained to stroll placidly along a by-path. He hoped that
+he would so walk till the end.
+
+His point of view was characteristic. Of the more complex designs of
+Providence, which such men as Hamlin were seeking to elucidate,
+Fishpingle took no cognisance. He admitted gravely that they lay beyond
+his vision. But he was quite certain that the land, the backbone of
+England, must and would receive the attention which, before the war, had
+been so unwisely withheld. He had always wanted to see his country
+independent of necessary supplies--wheat, cattle, sheep and
+hogs--imported from other countries. Upon that peg he had hung his
+philosophy. And now, towards the close of his days, he believed that
+what he had prayed for might come to pass. To that end he was prepared
+to consecrate such energies as were left to him. Incidentally, his
+enthusiasm served to wean Sir Geoffrey's mind from acrimonious criticism
+of politicians. To provide in the present means that might fill the
+inexorable demand of the future absorbed the thoughts of Squire and
+Bailiff.
+
+Towards the middle of September, two Nether-Applewhite men were killed
+in action. A week later, Lionel Pomfret was reported "severely wounded."
+Sir Geoffrey crossed over to France. Lady Pomfret remained at the Court
+in command of the hospital. She moved amongst the men with the same
+gracious smile upon her lips; courage and faith--those great twin
+brethren--sustained her; but the news was very bad, so serious that Mrs.
+Yellam hardened once more her heart. Lionel had been shot through the
+back, and lay, half-paralysed and in constant pain, in a receiving
+hospital. Upon the Sunday after these details reached Nether-Applewhite,
+Susan Yellam sat huddled up in her pew, and almost mumbled the
+responses. Alone with Fancy, her sorrow broke into words:
+
+"I be thinking o' keeping away from church next Sunday."
+
+"Mother--!"
+
+The dear word escaped from Fancy's lips unconsciously. She had never
+used it before, except in her thoughts.
+
+"What be you callin' me?"
+
+Fancy knelt beside her, stroking her rough hand.
+
+"I called you 'Mother.' Do you mind?"
+
+"No, no; but I bain't worthy to be your mother. If Master Lionel be
+taken, Alferd'll go, too. I can't bring myself to look at my lady. I
+can't look Pa'son square i' the face, neither. I reads the Bible, Fancy,
+and the holy words do seem to mock me. I ain't been near those two pore
+souls as ha' lost their boys. For why? I ain't got no comfort for 'em."
+
+Fancy said desperately:
+
+"If you keep away from church, others will pass remarks."
+
+"As if I keered about that!"
+
+"Wouldn't you care if I stayed away, just because you did?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam considered this. Her face relaxed.
+
+"Maybe. Anyways, I'll go next Sunday; But, child, it be sinful to sit in
+God's House wi' such a soul as mine."
+
+Fancy said in a low voice:
+
+"Your _soul_ is right. You mind what Mr. Hamlin said about that? George
+Mucklow won his Cross because our souls are always right."
+
+Mrs. Yellam shook her head. Then an idea came to her. A faint smile
+flickered about her lips.
+
+"Souls may take a notion to leave us for a spell. My soul seems to have
+flown out o' winder, as it did when Lizzie died."
+
+"But it came back."
+
+"Yes; that be true; it came back. Forgi' me, child, for shovin' my
+wickedness on your lil' shoulders."
+
+"Dear Mother, you must talk to somebody."
+
+"When I be alone, evenings, I talks to Solly."
+
+"Well, I never!"
+
+"And he understands me, yas, he do. He be very human, and a gert
+sinner."
+
+Fancy laughed; and the pretty trickle of sound may have melted a little
+ice. Susan Yellam laughed with her.
+
+"Solly--a sinner?"
+
+"Ay. He be a black murderer. He killed a cat day afore yesterday, and
+come back to me, all over scratches, and wi' a look as if--as if he'd
+been churched."
+
+"What a naughty hypocrite! I wish he hadn't killed the poor cat."
+
+"'Twas a vagabond cat, no better than she should be. I scolded Solly,
+and told 'un to kill William Saint's tabby, if so be as he couldn't help
+breaking the Sixth Commandment. I be no better than Solly."
+
+Fancy looked round.
+
+"Where is the naughty dog?"
+
+"Ah-h-h! He be courtin' some four-legged hussy. I knows 'un. Last night
+he come in after bed-time, so pleased as Punch. There be Original Sin in
+animals, as ther be in us. And feeling as I does, 'tis easy to forgive
+Solly his trespasses. Now you knows nearly everything."
+
+As the days succeeded each other, slightly better news came from France
+about Lionel Pomfret. At the end of the month the Squire brought him
+home. He lay upon his back; pain had become intermittent instead of
+constant. A great specialist said that he might, in time, recover the
+use of his lower limbs. Not a complaint leaked from his lips. Susan
+Yellam accepted this partial recovery from what had been deemed a lethal
+wound as a sign vouchsafed to her. Jealousy, however, was kindled by the
+professional nurse, who kept from her patient an old friend lavish with
+bull's-eyes in happier days and doubly anxious on that account to
+minister faithfully to him in the unhappy present.
+
+London was visited by Zeppelins. Nether-Applewhite would have accepted
+this fresh proof of Hun "frightfulness" with more Christian resignation,
+if one of the villagers had not happened to be present during the
+October raid which caused such destruction in the Strand. Uncle heard
+the tale at first hand, and repeated it everywhere. Martin Mowland, the
+bricklayer, had travelled to London to see his son, who was lying,
+desperately wounded, in the Charing Cross Hospital. According to Martin
+the Zeppelin had hovered just above his head, about tree-high. Then
+bombs had fallen with terrifying explosions. Uncle supplied
+supplementary detail to his own audience at the _Sir John Barleycorn_.
+
+"I says to Martin: 'What did 'ee do, old friend?' And he says to me:
+'Uncle,' he says, 'I thought my hour was come, but I legs it away so
+fast as I can to my lodgings....'"
+
+At this point Uncle, being an accomplished _raconteur_, would pause.
+Then he would add impressively:
+
+"Neighbours, I don't blame 'un, although speaking for myself, I knows
+that I should ha' stood still, onless, maybe, I'd seen some nice lil'
+ale-house handy. Well, Martin, he legs it homealong so fast as if a
+hornet's nest were tied to his starn-sheets, and presently he pulls up
+like to catch his breath. And then he takes a squint upwards. Dang me,
+'tis hard to believe some true stories. But Martin Mowland do take his
+oath to this. He'd run the most of a mile, giving tongue, too, I'll
+warrant. And when he looks up, as I be a Christian man, that there Zep
+had follered he, and was slam bang over his head."
+
+"Lard preserve us! Whatever did 'un do?"
+
+Uncle solemnly put the finishing touch to the narrative.
+
+"What did Martin do? He stands stone-still, and puts up his old
+umbrella."
+
+Many persons in the village believe to this day that Martin Mowland
+saved his life by putting up his ancient umbrella. Unquestionably
+Providence had stretched forth a Hand to preserve a worthy man who, as
+bricklayer, could ill be spared.
+
+During November, it will be remembered, Conscription was admitted to be
+inevitable, and shirkers were adjured to join up before they were
+"fetched." Many did so. Near Salisbury was established a vast camp of
+Canadians, jolly fellows who swung, route-marching, through
+Nether-Applewhite, winking gaily at the girls, and setting an inspiring
+example to the young men still clinging to the soil.
+
+Susan Yellam, spectacles upon nose, read all articles in her paper which
+dealt drastically with recalcitrants.
+
+Would they take William Saint?
+
+This question obsessed her. William was single and of military age. But
+his usefulness in the village could not be gainsaid, even by Captain
+Davenant. Of late, William had begun to cough, particularly in his
+sanded bar-parlour, or when he happened to be talking to Squire or
+Parson. His yellow gills confirmed the general opinion that he enjoyed
+poor health. Susan Yellam maintained that Willum was malingering, and
+deserved such obloquy as descended upon the empty head of Ezekiel
+Busketts, the brother of the sometime "odd man" at Pomfret Court.
+Ezekiel, presenting himself for examination before a medical board, had
+provided himself with an ancient truss, once the property of a deceased
+father. Unfortunately, he adjusted the truss so improperly that
+detection and ridicule fell upon him. Uncle, being distantly of kin to
+Ezekiel, covered his retreat with no harsher comment than this:
+
+"'Twas a very sad mishap."
+
+Susan, to return to William Saint, asked for a "sign," which, if
+unfavourable, might be taken to indicate how deeply she had incurred
+Divine displeasure. Some people, with greater advantages than Mrs.
+Yellam, believe devoutly in signs. Lionel Pomfret's slow recovery had
+been thankfully accepted by Susan as a sign that Satan was not having it
+all his own way in Nether-Applewhite. If William Saint was removed from
+the scene of his time-serving activities, Mrs. Yellam felt that a signal
+victory over the powers of Evil would have been achieved. Such a
+victory, in a true religious sense, would re-tighten the spiritual
+fibres that, before the war, had bound her so closely to Omnipotence.
+Nay, more; she dared to presume that if Willum went, her Alfred would
+return, and pick up the scattered parcels of his good business as of
+yore.
+
+She confided all this to Solomon, but not to Fancy.
+
+Uncle furthered her wishes without any "mumbudgetting" between brother
+and sister. He disliked Saint, because his ale was watered. But he liked
+to meet his cronies at the _Sir John Barleycorn_. Being a brave, candid
+fellow, with a half-interest in the V. C., he told Saint to his face
+what he thought of the ale.
+
+"I likes my ale, and I bain't ashamed on't. I see eye to eye wi' this
+yere Horatio Bottomley about they pumpuritans, which I make bold to say
+includes milkmen" (Saint sold milk) "so well as publicans. Me and
+Bottomley do think just alike about knaves, hypocrites, and they as
+grinds the face o' the pore. Much o' what I read in Johnny Bull might
+ha' been written by me. I comes back to my tankard o' ale."
+
+"You allers do, Uncle."
+
+"What I likes about my first tankard be this. If 'tis good ale, such as
+used to be set afore a man, I drinks it wi' a grateful heart, a-smackin'
+my lips over the tankard to foller. If 'tis wishwash, I nourishes most
+onChristian feelin's, and loses my thirst."
+
+William Saint would reply imperturbably:
+
+"For a patriotic man, you surprise me, Uncle. The ale is not what it was
+because good barley is needed for better purposes."
+
+"I knows nothing about that."
+
+"A man with your great knowledge of everything ought to know."
+
+Uncle marked the irony, and resented it. In argument, as he well knew,
+Saint was too much for him. He began to study the publican and his
+hollow cough. He noted his manoeuvres: the tiny bit of land ploughed up,
+the buying of horses for remount agents, the sale of forage to the same
+interested parties, who might be trusted to speak up, when Conscription
+came, for an indispensable and indefatigable subject of the King. Uncle
+passed some not disagreeable moments speculating concerning the fouling
+of a well-lined nest.
+
+As the season of Peace and Goodwill approached, Lionel Pomfret was just
+able to hobble the length of the terrace with the assistance of a pair
+of crutches. His campaigning days were over. It was doubtful whether he
+would be seen again in the hunting-field. But high spirits remained
+inalienably his. He plunged with renewed ardour into schemes for the
+more intensive culture of a thin soil, and displayed remarkable
+aptitudes fortified by hard grinding at text-books. Hamlin spent many
+hours with him. In Lionel he seemed to see a type, the son of an ancient
+house, born with the silver spoon in his mouth, cradled in ease and
+luxury, popped on a pony to ride through life as soon as he was
+short-coated, sent to a great public-school, not to acquire learning,
+but manners and skill at games, pitchforked later into a famous
+regiment, with a handsome allowance, not to study the stern arts of war,
+but to hold his own at polo and pig-sticking.
+
+Hamlin had deplored such upbringing. But the results confounded him,
+forcing him once again to thrust carefully-considered judgments into the
+melting-pot. The fact bristled in front of him that Lionel, and
+thousands like him, had "made good" against all odds, vindicating an
+education which consistently disdained efficiency except at games and
+sport. What a gulf yawned between Prussian and English officers! The
+Prussians had scrapped everything to attain efficiency. They had got it.
+And what an atrocious use had been made of it! But their efficiency had
+constrained young men like Lionel to an efficiency greater because the
+inspiration of a fine cause lay behind it. That must be the keystone of
+any arch--inspiration. Whether for good or evil, it fired men to supreme
+endeavour.
+
+Out of Hamlin's four sons, three were now in the Army. Teddy, however,
+was the only one in France. The eldest son, in Orders, was still at
+Cambridge; the second, after passing through the O. T. C., had sailed
+for Salonika; the third had enlisted as a Bombardier.
+
+Christmas, therefore, seemed likely to be happy, if not merry.
+
+Upon Christmas Eve, Mrs. Yellam heard, officially, that Alfred was
+wounded.
+
+Upon Christmas Day, at Morning Service, her pew was empty.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+FANCY CONSULTS THE CARDS
+
+
+On the following Sunday, Mrs. Yellam's pew was empty again,
+conspicuously so, in the eyes of Hamlin. After luncheon he said to
+Fancy:
+
+"Is Mrs. Yellam ill?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+Hamlin guessed what had happened.
+
+"No news is good news, Fancy."
+
+"That's what the men say, sir. It ain't a mort of comfort to us women."
+
+She looked very white, with dark, heavy lines beneath her eyes. Hamlin
+said a few encouraging words to which she listened attentively, nodding
+her head. Hamlin felt reassured. Fancy was unhappy, but she didn't
+despair. Before she left the study, she said slowly:
+
+"I believe as Alfred will come back."
+
+To the solicitude and sympathy of neighbours Mrs. Yellam exhibited a
+frigid indifference.
+
+"I be just as well as never was," she remarked, when they enquired after
+her own health. "Time enough for such as me to fall sick if my Alferd
+don't come back."
+
+No further news had reached her. To Jane Mucklow, now the village
+optimist, with George at home on leave for Christmas, Mrs. Yellam spoke
+with some bitterness. Jane meant well; her sympathy was sincere, but how
+could she, so high in Divine favour, understand? Nothing could shake
+Susan's conviction that Alfred lay somewhere in France, mortally
+wounded, whilst William Saint, the hypocrite and rascal, knelt among the
+Communicants. To kneel with him, feeling as she did, would be, in her
+opinion, an act of sacrilege. She reflected miserably that, since
+confirmation, she had never missed a Christmas Celebration of the
+Eucharist.
+
+On the Monday, Hamlin came to visit her as parish priest. He had
+carefully considered what he should say. The faith that burned within
+this strong man had been a plant of slow growth, watered by suffering,
+pruned by constant self-analysis, and yet, in its essence, the faith of
+a child, a faith independent of dogma, soaring high above
+technicalities, resting securely upon a belief in ultimate good. He
+could not disguise from himself that the Churches--all of them--had
+crippled expectation. There had been no renascence, no uplifting
+movement, no real enthusiasm. Political considerations and expediencies
+kept the Vatican silent when a voice, thundering as from Sinai, might
+have awakened millions to a realisation of the issues at stake. The
+Church of England and the Nonconformists remained almost as stagnant,
+content, for the most part, with the well-oiled grooves, waiting for and
+watching Temporal Power, unable or unwilling to take the lead, to speak
+definitely, to act decisively. With rare exceptions, the gospel of Love
+had not been authoritatively used to vanquish the gospel of Hate.
+Hamlin, need it be said? was no sentimentalist. He believed with Woodrow
+Wilson that Prussian militarism must be wiped out. He did not believe
+with Wilson that the German nation, as a whole, could be exonerated from
+blame. Available evidence justified a different conclusion. Lust for
+world-dominion, regardless of consequence, animated and fortified the
+Central Powers because popular opinion lay behind them, unanimous save
+for a negligible minority. Non-resistance to a catastrophic policy of
+aggression, so potent, so meticulously organised threatened not only
+Christianity but civilisation. To turn the cheek to these smiting Huns
+was an unthinkable proposition to Hamlin. Nor could he find in the New
+Testament any injunction of the Master which could be twisted into a
+golden rule to be applied to States and nationalities. Christ dealt with
+individuals, preaching and practising the power of love as between man
+and man, not as between man and mankind. No text that Hamlin could find
+would justify forbearance towards a nation determined to inflict
+"Shrecklichkeit" upon the human race. On this point his mind was
+perfectly clear.
+
+It was not yet, however, so clear upon issues still to be determined,
+such as "After the War" problems. He could not measure the stride about
+to be taken, provided militarism was crushed. He wondered constantly,
+with ever-increasing apprehension, whether love would triumph in the
+end, as he prayed that it might, creating a new world concerned with the
+happiness of the many, a world purged of the old insensate vanities and
+acrimonies.
+
+Mrs. Yellam received him, as usual, a shade more formally, perhaps, with
+a slight tightening of her lips. Hamlin began as the personal friend of
+long standing, assuring the mother that her son, in all probability, was
+not severely wounded, that good news might be expected shortly, that
+very soon Alfred might be with her, out of the danger zone for a season,
+and able to give attention to his business. But he perceived that he was
+wasting words and time. She listened respectfully, saying nothing. He
+guessed what ebullitions of feeling were suppressed. He had been
+tormented by her anxieties, by her doubts. The loss of his wife had been
+irreparable. And when his daughter left him alone in the Vicarage, with
+nothing to engross him but his work, an odd distaste of life had
+assailed him, a slackness which he fought tooth and nail. Till then he
+had hardly known fatigue, as it is known to all women, that dull apathy
+more mental than physical which questions means and ends, exaggerating
+the difficulties of the former and minimising the latter, an apathy
+continually whispering the sad words: _cui bono_? He knew how hard Mrs.
+Yellam had worked for her husband, her children, and in particular for
+Alfred. During the last ten years all ambition, all energies had been
+concentrated upon him alone. She had made unconsciously, a God of him.
+
+Hamlin rose up to deliver his message. Mrs. Yellam rose with him.
+
+"I missed you in church yesterday, and on Christmas Day."
+
+"One old 'ooman can't be missed, sir."
+
+His eyes not his voice softened.
+
+"You are mistaken, Mrs. Yellam. A woman of your character in this parish
+is missed--more than you think, perhaps."
+
+"If Alferd comes back, you'll see me in my pew again."
+
+"You have made that rash bargain with your God?"
+
+She said defiantly:
+
+"How do I know as He is my God? The Kayser claims Him."
+
+Hamlin gazed keenly at her.
+
+"If--if I left the matter there, Mrs. Yellam, in the firm hope and
+belief that God's way, inscrutable as they may appear to us when all our
+energies are at a low ebb, will in His time be made manifest, may I not
+ask you, as your parish priest, to consider the example to others, the
+many, possibly, who are wavering in faith as you are?"
+
+"Fancy Broomfield bid me think of that."
+
+"Did she? Poor girl, she is distracted with anxiety, like you. But her
+faith sustains her. Have you thought of what Fancy told you?"
+
+She answered him slowly, weighing her words:
+
+"My faith be gone, sir. It may come back wi' Alferd. And feeling so
+bitter as I do about William Saint, who be stealing my boy's business,
+who be letting others fight for him, and making a fortin for hisself,
+can I kneel at God's Table?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What be I to do? Go to church, a whited sepulchre, and pretend that I
+be a Christian 'ooman? Do 'ee ask me to do that for sake of others?"
+
+Hamlin remained silent. She continued, more calmly:
+
+"I can't bring myself to go church along, although I'd be pleased to
+oblige you, sir."
+
+"It is no question of obliging me, Mrs. Yellam. Aren't you adding to
+your heavy burden instead of sharing it with One Who laid it upon you
+and Who alone can lighten it?"
+
+Grievously she shook her head. Hamlin took his leave. As he walked away,
+he muttered to himself: "Civil War--devastating Civil War raging in that
+poor old heart."
+
+He returned to the Vicarage with his mind dwelling upon the eternal
+conflict, a conflict accentuated by the world-war, because its issues
+seemed to enrich or impoverish everybody. By it, without a doubt, Susan
+Yellam had been impoverished. He himself was conscious of enrichment.
+But--he had not lost a son. He had five children.
+
+After tea Fancy cycled down, as usual, to the Yellam cottage. Solomon
+received her boisterously. She made sure that good news awaited her. A
+glance at Mrs. Yellam's set face put to flight her hopes. No news had
+come. Mrs. Yellam greeted the girl perfunctorily, and then said sharply:
+
+"Have you brought 'em?"
+
+"Yes," said Fancy.
+
+She took from a small hand-bag a much-used pack of cards. Mrs. Yellam
+had cleared a space upon the kitchen-table.
+
+"Set 'em out," she commanded.
+
+Fancy sat down, and began to shuffle the pack. Hamlin would have smiled
+sorrowfully, had he seen Mrs. Yellam's intent face as the girl's slim
+fingers dealt out the cards. So it had come to this. Rejecting the faith
+of sixty years, this poor old woman asked for hope and happiness from a
+fortuitous arrangement of bits of painted pasteboard! Comedy upon the
+underlying tragedy. Hamlin knew, of course, that astrologers, mediums,
+crystal-gazers and the like were doing a roaring trade.
+
+Mrs. Yellam, let it be noted, asked Fancy to bring the cards. Protest
+had quivered upon Fancy's lips and stayed there.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"It is well, Mother. Alfred will come back. This makes the third time;
+and, do you know, when I rode up Sol barked and wagged his tail."
+
+"Did he? The dog be full o' fun now."
+
+Fancy went down on her knees; Sol barked at her, and then began to race
+round the room, playing what Fancy called "mad dog." He ended by
+leaping, panting, into Mrs. Yellam's lap.
+
+"I believe he knows something, Fancy."
+
+"I'm sure he does. Would he carry on like that if--if Alfred was real
+bad?"
+
+Thus each woman, in her artless way, consoled the other.
+
+Upon the Tuesday, details reached Mrs. Yellam. Alfred had been shot in
+the arm; the bone was badly broken; his destination was Netley.
+
+Strings were pulled by Sir Geoffrey. Before the week was out Alfred
+arrived at Pomfret Court. He looked much the same, not quite so
+rubicund; he carried his left arm in a sling. Upon the following Sunday,
+Mrs. Yellam appeared in her pew, and the fervour of her responses
+excited some comment.
+
+She said to Fancy:
+
+"The cards told true. Now, the sooner you and Alferd becomes man and
+wife the better."
+
+The doctor, who visited Pomfret Court daily, raised no objections.
+Alfred's arm would keep him in Nether-Applewhite for many weeks, because
+small splinters, from time to time, would have to be extracted, a
+tedious process. Mrs. Yellam, when she heard this, said with twinkling
+eyes:
+
+"Alfred, dear, why didn't you get wounded in both arms?"
+
+To which Alfred replied slily:
+
+"I kept my right arm, Mother, to slip round Fancy's waist."
+
+He told many stories to which Fancy and Mrs. Yellam listened entranced,
+and he spoke of the enemy with respect and without rancour. Upon one
+occasion, as his battalion moved into the trenches, a German had shouted
+out in excellent English:
+
+"Be you the Wiltsheers?"
+
+A reply in the affirmative provoked a request for "pozzy" (jam). But a
+tall sergeant, who stood up to hurl a can of preserve into the German
+trench, was shot dead. This aroused tremendous wrath, as quickly allayed
+when the same voice shouted again, asking if the sergeant who threw the
+jam had been hurt. He was soon satisfied on that point, and,
+immediately, a hubbub arose in the enemy trench, and a shot was heard.
+Soon afterwards the Wiltshires learnt from the lips of the first speaker
+that the man who treacherously slew the sergeant had been "done in."
+
+"They ain't all bad," said Alfred.
+
+To Mrs. Yellam's amazement, her son merely laughed when she told him of
+Willum Saint's activities.
+
+"'Tis life, Mother. Down river, if a trout's caught behind an old stump,
+another takes his pitch before night."
+
+Mrs. Yellam, however, noted with satisfaction that although Alfred was
+incapacitated from driving his motor-'bus, the business, since his
+arrival in Nether-Applewhite, had leaped ahead again with a renewed
+impetus. William Saint looked sour.
+
+Fancy bought her modest trousseau, and, incidentally, put on several
+pounds in weight. The weather happened to be bitter, but she never felt
+cold when walking out with Alfred. He spoke with enthusiasm of his
+officers:
+
+"They're fine gentlemen, Fancy. And those in the ranks are finest of
+all." Then he told her a story about two men in a London regiment, both
+privates and chums. One was an East-ender; the father of the other owned
+a house in Park Lane. The Cockney asked his chum if he had ever visited
+Whitechapel. The other remembered that he had bought a bull-terrier from
+a fancier in the Mile End Road. He remembered, also, that he had been
+handsomely "done" over the deal. After a pause, the Cockney said with a
+grin: "I sold you that dawg, Algy. What a mug you was then!"
+
+But Fancy remarked one amazing change in her lover. He never spoke of
+the future. His enjoyment of the present was unmistakable. This
+abstention from a topic which formerly had engrossed him became more and
+more significant. The girl realised what Alfred had been through,
+although, unlike most of the wounded men at the Court, he recited no
+"horrors." Gradually, too, she perceived a change in his face: he had
+"fined down"; his eyes were more alert, with a curiously steadfast
+expression. She had never talked with him about religion. That was taken
+for granted, and might be summed up as a cut-and-dried sense of certain
+obligations such as church-going, honourable dealings with neighbours,
+loyalty to the Sovereign, and sobriety of conduct. He knew nothing about
+the empty pew.
+
+"Mother took my going awful hard. Did she talk to you about it?"
+
+Fancy told him what had taken place. Alfred held his tongue till she had
+finished.
+
+"Thought she'd lost her soul, did she? Poor dear!"
+
+"William Saint doing so well and cutting into your business worried her
+dreadful. I think it worries her still that you takes it so easy."
+
+Alfred meditated upon this. When he answered her, he conveyed to her
+mind an extraordinary sense of detachment, as if he, the strong man, so
+enterprising as a carrier, so alert for "orders," had become suddenly an
+onlooker at the game of life. Perhaps surroundings lent themselves to
+this impression. They had climbed slowly to the high downs, and were
+standing near a noted landmark, a small tower known as the Pepper Box. A
+sharp frost had silvered the downs. The air was very still. Upon each
+side of them stretched the uplands, melting into distant woods. No
+animals were to be seen, not a sheep, not a bird. They seemed to stand
+alone in a beautiful, deserted world.
+
+"I suppose," he said, "that 'tis like this. Before the war, I might have
+felt different towards William Saint. And after the war, Fancy, if I'm
+here, I shall try hard to get back my own again. But to-day I'm thinking
+of peace. Fed-up with war I am. I want to live quiet with you and
+Mother. I talked a lot of foolishness once about making big money. You
+didn't cotton much to the notion. Maybe you feared it would take me away
+from you?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"Well, maybe it would. Money drives some folks apart, and the want of it
+brings 'em together. And, out there, plotting and planning seems silly,
+because one may be--'next.'"
+
+She clutched his arm. He smiled at her, continuing slowly:
+
+"'Tain't so terrible a thought. Most of us fears pain more'n death. I
+see more frightened folks in Nether-Applewhite than in the dug outs.
+Queer thoughts have come to me, my maid, since we two parted."
+
+"Tell them to me, Alfie."
+
+"'Tisn't easy unless a man has the gift of words. Times, especially at
+night, when an attack is expected I've lain still as a dormouse,
+thinking that 'twas unreal, a dream like, and that soon I should wake up
+and find myself somewhere else."
+
+"I often feel just that way."
+
+"Ah-h-h! Another queer notion is this: the best seem to go first, Fancy;
+some of the young officers. Why? I figure it out that death is a big
+prize to such. It does explain things a bit, don't it? They get their
+reward---quick! And then I set to figuring who is best. God Almighty
+knows. One feller in my platoon, before I got my stripes, was a
+right-down scallywag, a gaol-bird."
+
+"My!"
+
+"'Twas his notion about death being a prize for the lucky ones. And he
+told me that he loved to think how bad he'd been, because he reckoned
+himself safe, sure to be one of the last to be called. Next week, he was
+blown to a pulp, except his face, and on that was the queerest smile I
+ever saw. I helped to carry in what was left."
+
+She clung closer to him. He said in his ordinary genial tones:
+
+"I feel myself again in Blighty, dear. But I want no unpleasantness with
+William Saint or any one else. I think, night and day, of you, soon to
+be my dear wife."
+
+Love-making rolled on smoothly, as before the war.
+
+But what Alfred had said remained in Fancy's mind. It explained much
+that had puzzled her ever since she was able to think: her father's
+ill-health and ill-fortune, her mother's premature death, and the big
+casualty-lists. If life was a dream--! If reality lay beyond--! Then all
+the mysteries, the inequalities, the apparent injustices, could be
+explained. Such an explanation is old as human thought. It can be found
+in the Vedas, in the Bible, in the writings of the Gnostics, in some of
+the pagan and modern philosophies. Fancy, however, was neither concerned
+nor interested in speculations veiled in words she could not understand.
+Alfred's queer notions were his and hers, rushlights shining in the
+darkness. But terror touched her heart, when she applied the obvious
+conclusion to herself. If the best were taken, why then Alfred would be
+numbered amongst them.
+
+As her wedding-day approached, this apprehension grew fainter and then
+disappeared for a time. She resolved to live in the present, not in the
+shadows of past or future. Such resolution has been a fairy godmother's
+gift to young women in Fancy's class of life. They turn their eyes
+gratefully to the sun whenever it shines upon them.
+
+She had never been so happy before.
+
+It was arranged that part of the honeymoon should be spent in London.
+After three days' sight-seeing, the pair would return to Mrs. Yellam's
+cottage. Alfred bestowed upon Fancy a black fur stole and muff, a
+wrist-watch, and a pair of silver-backed hair-brushes.
+
+She placed these oblations upon a chair near her bed, so that her eyes
+could gloat upon them the last thing at night and the first thing in the
+morning.
+
+Sergeant George Mucklow, V. C., promised to act as best man.
+
+Mrs. Yellam was nearly as happy as Fancy. One fly settled in her
+ointment. Conscription had become the law of the land. But the local
+tribunal exempted William Saint. Uncle predicted that he would be called
+up later. Jane, of course, contradicted this on general principles. With
+Mrs. Yellam she believed that Satan would take good care of his own.
+
+The men at Pomfret Court gave a sing-song in Alfred's honour upon the
+afternoon before he left them. Fancy sat beside the bridegroom-elect
+amongst the quality. She liked one new song so much that she clapped her
+hands and called out "Encore" before anybody else. The chorus of that
+song is now known to every English-speaking soldier in the world.
+
+     There's a long, long trail a-winding
+     Into the land of my dreams;
+     Where the nightingales are singing,
+     And a white moon beams.
+     There's a long, long night of waiting
+     Until my dreams all come true;
+     Till the day when I'll be going down
+     That long, long trail with you.
+
+Her dreams had come true; the night of waiting was past.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+HYMENEAL
+
+
+They were married from Mr. Broomfield's house in Salisbury, and, before
+returning to Nether-Applewhite, Mrs. Yellam reconsidered her opinion of
+Fancy's father. He was more than half a man. Call him three-quarters at
+least. The other quarter was woman. Fancy always affirmed that her sire
+had played mother to her. Mrs. Yellam, after some intimate conversation
+with Mr. Broomfield, believed this to be true. It seemed odd to think of
+a farrier--the brawny blacksmith of the village chestnut-tree--helping
+to undress dolls and smacking them when they misbehaved themselves. But
+Mr. Broomfield was not brawny. He had Fancy's pale face and large,
+luminous eyes. He talked about books, not storybooks, which Susan Yellam
+disdained as "rubbishy truck," but solid, respectable treatises dealing
+with subjects far beyond Susan's ken, such as the better housing of the
+poor, communal kitchens, and a more equable wage for the working-man.
+About such talk hung a flavour of Radicalism, a whiff of Socialism. Mrs.
+Yellam gasped for breath when Mr. Broomfield "blasphemiously" labelled
+Christ as Socialist. As a set-off, the man actually believed in fairies!
+Mrs. Yellam had never met his like. But she admitted somewhat grudgingly
+his charm as a companion. He attended Divine Worship, regularly,
+observed the Sabbath, and spoke with enthusiasm of the cathedral. He
+could laugh at his own mild jokes. Through him, Mrs. Yellam came to a
+subtler understanding of her daughter-in-law. She accepted Fancy, so she
+informed Mr. Broomfield, as a daughter, saying trenchantly: "No
+'in-laws' for me." But she ceased to regard her as a child. Fancy's
+artless ways, she decided, were on the surface. Beneath might be found,
+by a diligent delver, a remarkable little woman, sensible, very
+affectionate, but queer, like her father. Mr. Broomfield, apparently,
+could enjoy a joke against himself. Susan, with a very limited sense of
+humour, was incapable of such a feat. Speaking of motors, Mr. Broomfield
+said whimsically:
+
+"What I've lost over 'em, Mrs. Yellam, seems to have been picked up by
+Alfred. So--no complaints! Good money remains in the family."
+
+To Susan this cheerful acceptance of bludgeonings indicated Christian
+resignation rather than humour. She told the farrier forthwith all about
+William Saint--the "Proosian." Mr. Broomfield listened sympathetically.
+He perceived that Mrs. Yellam was disappointed because Alfred had not
+"man-handled" a rascal and hypocrite, but he said with an odd chuckle:
+
+"That makes things harder for this Saint, don't it?"
+
+"I begs your pardon, Mr. Broomfield--whatever does you mean?"
+
+She thought for the moment that he was as light in head as in body.
+Fancy's father went on chuckling:
+
+"Well, from what you tell me of Alfred, and seeing what a big, strong
+man he is, I expect that William Saint is worrying. Like as not he
+looked for a row and wanted to get it over. Now, I reckon, being the
+coward you say he is, that he lies awake wondering when he'll catch it.
+Once, when I was a boy, I had to wait for a good whipping from Saturday
+till Monday. I've forgotten the whipping, Mrs. Yellam, but I remember
+that miserable Sunday."
+
+Mrs. Yellam was much impressed with this point of view, admitting
+cautiously that it opened new vistas. Disturbed nights must be William
+Saint's portion and punishment. Mr. Broomfield hammered home his nail:
+
+"'Tis the same way with sinners--and this Saint seems a crafty
+sinner--outwardly they look fat and prosperous, but inwardly I reckon
+they give uneasy thought to a Day o' Judgment when they won't be invited
+to stand amongst the sheep. I've neighbours in this town, Mrs. Yellam,
+who have done the dirty on me. I never think of them. It dirties my mind
+to do so. I like to think of my friends instead."
+
+"You be a true Christian man."
+
+Later, she told Uncle, who set, perhaps, an undue value on
+chest-measurements, that Mr. Broomfield was very much of a gentleman,
+and repeated what had been said about Saint. Uncle saw the funny side of
+it, and smacked his thigh.
+
+"Saint Willum--! I shall call 'un that in his own bar. 'Tis a rare jest.
+Saint Willum living amongst us sheep and knowing full well that he be a
+goat. He do act the goat, too, when the sheep be grazin' away from he. I
+could tell 'ee stories, Susan...."
+
+"Don't, Habakkuk! Mr. Broomfield be right. I means to think o' my
+friends, and I refuses to dirty my mind wi' listenin' to stories o'
+goats."
+
+Her responses in church became louder and more fervent. Having gained
+the shore, after many buffetings, she put from her disagreeable memories
+of billows past.
+
+Fancy and Alfred returned from London town full of high spirits and
+overbrimming with talk. Fancy looked prettier than ever hanging upon the
+right arm of her sergeant. His left arm still hung in a sling. The
+doctor, who examined it periodically, said solemnly:
+
+"I'm very sorry, Sergeant, but I can't pass you as fit for duty."
+
+Alfred grinned:
+
+"You do pull my pore arm about, sir, but don't pull my leg, please."
+
+The doctor laughed.
+
+"You may count on six weeks at home, perhaps more."
+
+The momentary pain of having small splinters of bone extracted was
+negligible compared with six weeks of married bliss.
+
+Fancy's happiness defies analysis. Her naïve ecstasies astounded Mrs.
+Yellam, to whom marriage had been rather a prosaic affair. She wondered
+occasionally if this had been her fault. Why had dull contentment set in
+so soon? As a young wife, she may have overbusied herself with domestic
+duties. Fancy practised wiles and guiles with Alfred. She planned quaint
+little surprises, played dexterously with an imagination which became as
+lively as her own. One evening, when Fancy was upstairs, Alfred took
+from his pocket some pieces of white paper, all that was left of three
+packets of food. Abroad on business, Alfred had lunched under a hedge
+by himself, far from home. Upon the paper were pencilings in Fancy's
+handwriting. Mrs. Yellam wiped her spectacles and put them on. She
+read three sentences:--"Meat sandwiches. Don't gobble 'em! Say
+grace and think of Fancy." Upon the next piece of paper this was
+scribbled:--"Bread and butter and cheese--and _kisses_." And then the
+third:--"Rich cake stolen from Mother by a loving thief. P. S. Another
+fat kiss has just started to grow. F. Y."
+
+Mrs. Yellam returned the papers. Alfred folded them carefully, and
+placed them in the inner pocket of his tunic.
+
+"They go back with me to France," he said quietly.
+
+Mrs. Yellam sighed.
+
+"You be a lucky man, Alferd."
+
+He nodded and went upstairs. Mrs. Yellam heard a tinkle of laughter. She
+sat on, thinking; a frown wrinkled her broad forehead. She had never
+played the game of love as Fancy played it. It occurred to her that she
+had missed something all her life without knowing what it was. It might
+be wise to consult Solomon, who was gazing at her interrogatively, with
+his head on one side. She did so.
+
+"Be they a pair o' fools, Solly?"
+
+Solomon never budged. This might be taken to mean an answer in the
+negative.
+
+"There be wisdom in folly, my dog, and folly in wisdom. You knows that?"
+
+Solomon wagged his tail. Mrs. Yellam continued:
+
+"I be learning things, Solly, old as I be. I wish I'd ha' learned 'em
+earlier. I might ha' been a happier 'ooman. I might ha' made my man
+happier. Why do such knowledge come to us too late?"
+
+Solomon gazed at his mistress intently. From his expression Mrs. Yellam
+divined that all her questions could be answered exhaustively by any dog
+able to wag his tongue instead of his tail.
+
+The war went on.
+
+Conscription began to dislocate small trades and industries, but
+Nether-Applewhite hardly felt the pinch of this. A few of the young
+women disappeared, seeking higher wages in munition-works. One or two
+returned to the village wearing coney-seal coats, and peacocking into
+church with bold eyes challenging attention from wounded heroes. Mrs.
+Yellam was much exasperated. All strikes she regarded as sinful. Satan,
+and his dark legions, had been the first to rebel against Authority.
+Hence--Hell! She envisaged as Hell industrial England, with its
+blast-furnaces vomiting flames and smoke day and night, with its black
+hordes of angry strikers disgracefully overpaid in comparison with the
+pittance doled out to Sergeant Yellam. Coney-seal coats "dirtied" her
+mind. Many of them, no doubt, were the obvious wages of sin. She rebuked
+Alfred severely, when he proposed to buy one for Fancy. Alfred defended
+himself and the wearers of the coats.
+
+"It's one of the signs of the times, Mother. I thought you were an
+'Onward' one."
+
+"Lard help us! Not 'Onward and downward.'"
+
+"It's all the result of the war," affirmed Alfred. "Money's scarcer
+amongst the quality, but poor folks are richer. Why shouldn't our girls
+have a good time? They're working hard for the country."
+
+Mrs. Yellam retorted viciously:
+
+"Being a man, wi' an eye for a pretty face, you sticks up for the girls.
+But what about they miners, a-smoking silling cigars and a-drinking
+champagne, when our boys are dying at one-and-tuppence a day? And some
+o' they strikers, so they tells me, 'd as lief live under Kayser Bill as
+under King Garge."
+
+"Is that their fault, Mother?"
+
+"What do you say? Gracious! Be you telling me that such wickedness be
+_my_ fault?"
+
+Alfred smiled pleasantly. He was not entitled to full credit for his
+answer; he had been talking upon the subject with Lionel Pomfret.
+
+"It's the fault of the quality, Mother."
+
+"What a tale!"
+
+Alfred proceeded to explain. Although his brains worked slowly, and
+despite the lack of an adequate vocabulary, he could be trusted to
+repeat faithfully anything that had made a deep impression. He pointed
+out to Mrs. Yellam, in language she could understand, that the weak in
+mind and body were ever at the mercy of the strong. The quality, before
+the war, had been strong. They had exercised their strength, speaking
+generally, at the expense of the weak, fortifying their own impregnable
+position. The masses, with rare exceptions, had submitted to imposed
+conditions. They struggled on in the gloom, groping here and there for
+illumination. Ill-educated, ill-fed, ill-clothed, they became gradually
+conscious that things might be better and could hardly be worse. It made
+precious little difference to them, poor Bezonians, under which king
+they lived or died. The real advantages of living under King George were
+patent to others, not to these unhappy prisoners in bondage to their
+taskmasters. Alfred informed his mother, in conclusion, that within the
+memory of living man children of tenderest years had been driven to work
+in deep coal-mines, half-starved and half-naked, and kept at work, under
+the lash, in rabbit-holes of passages, because such work by warping
+their poor backs enabled them to get coal out of places where the
+straight-backed could not go. Conditions had changed for the better
+since those days, but not much, not nearly enough.
+
+Mrs. Yellam was visibly impressed.
+
+Alfred went on in his own quiet way:
+
+"I've talked with such fellers in the trenches, Mother. You be sure of
+this: they ain't going back to slavery."
+
+"Slavery, Alfred, in England!"
+
+"There are slaves in Ocknell, to-day, Mother. Some pore devils had to be
+'fetched.' They didn't know enough to get out of their hog-wallows. 'Tis
+rank slavery for a man to bring up wife and six little 'uns on fifteen
+bob a week."
+
+"Anyways," replied Mrs. Yellam, tartly, "I don't hold wi' fur coats on
+the backs o' hussies whose mothers can't afford decent underlinen. And
+that minds me o' the advertisements in my paper. I fair blush to look at
+'un. Pictures o' garments that I hangs up to dry out o' sight in my back
+yard."
+
+Alfred laughed loudly.
+
+"It always seemed to me as if you women hid the things you were ashamed
+of. The pretty frillies flutter in the wind, where all can see 'em, and
+envy 'em. Nether-Applewhite knew when Rose Mucklow took to nighties
+trimmed with real Val."
+
+Mrs. Yellam sighed, admitting frankly that she couldn't keep in step
+with the times. Alfred, conscious, possibly, that some of his mother's
+shafts were aimed at him, said tentatively:
+
+"Are you miffed because I gave Fancy a fur muff and stole?"
+
+"I don't know as I bain't. A wise man, my son, puts money in bank, not
+on back."
+
+"I see you putting your savings into stockings. Blame the war, Mother,
+not me. I aimed to make Fancy happy, and to see her smile, whilst I'm
+here to see it. We're both hay-making in these March winds."
+
+Mrs. Yellam surrendered.
+
+What Alfred said remained in her ample mind, to be considered carefully
+at leisure. She abhorred extravagance. But, in March, she might have
+bought a warm muff for herself, had she been told by her doctor that she
+would die before June. Insensibly she adopted part of Alfred's new
+philosophy. She set before bride and groom the best plain food
+procurable; she piled logs on the open hearth; she put the two
+coffin-stools into a cupboard.
+
+And she read her Bible diligently, believing devoutly that she was
+basking in heavenly sunshine.
+
+The six weeks raced by, but Alfred's arm mended less rapidly. He was
+given three weeks' more leave. His business had picked up wonderfully
+ever since he was able to bestow upon it personal attention. Perhaps
+William Saint withdrew tentacles, waiting for better opportunities later
+on. Alfred didn't drive his 'bus, but he whipped up old customers,
+chaffing them pleasantly, avoiding reproaches. All the women liked his
+manners, which were easy without being too free. Fancy felt jealous at
+times, and couldn't hide it: a tribute to love which Alfred accepted in
+the right spirit.
+
+"I couldn't be unfaithful to you, if I tried," he whispered to her. "I
+love you so dearly that my heart warms to all females. I could kiss the
+ugliest just because you're my sweet wife."
+
+"Oh, Alfie, I couldn't bear that."
+
+He never left home without finding her on his return hovering about the
+wicket-gate, waving her hand as he appeared round the bend of the road,
+and hurrying to meet him with outstretched arms. Those spoke eloquently
+of the suffering which approaching separation must impose. Each
+refrained from mention of France.
+
+Alfred hoped that she would have something to console her, something
+intimately his and hers, when he went back to the front. From the first,
+husband and wife had discussed the possibility of children.
+
+"Are you afraid?" he asked, thinking of her mother.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Ah-h-h. I'm not surprised to hear that."
+
+"I want to whisper something, Alfie."
+
+He inclined his head. She kissed his ear, murmuring:
+
+"I _am_ afraid--afraid it mayn't come. That's the only fear I have."
+
+He was profoundly moved, sensible that his feelings were the more tender
+because, before the war, he would have accepted paternity and all it
+implied as an ordinary happening. Till he had suffered himself--his
+wound had caused him intense pain--he had never thought of what women
+endure every time a child is born into the world.
+
+"What a brave dear you are!"
+
+She whispered again:
+
+"Would you like a He or a She?"
+
+Alfred insisted that first choice lay with her.
+
+"I want a boy."
+
+"I believe I should love a lil' maid best."
+
+"Better than you love me, maybe?"
+
+Having answered this in his own way, Alfred said abruptly:
+
+"If 'tis a maid, you must call her Lizzie. 'Twill please Mother. I can
+see the child traipsin' after her."
+
+Fancy said doubtfully:
+
+"Lizzie ain't a pretty name, Alfie. I thought of Alfreda--Freda for
+short."
+
+"Been thinking of that already, have you? Let it be Lizzie, Fancy.
+Promise me, dear!"
+
+She promised, and then laughed gaily:
+
+"Ain't we counting our chicks before they're hatched?"
+
+"We might be worse employed."
+
+"And if one comes, Alfie, I know 'twill be a big baby boy."
+
+"You have it your own way. I allow it concerns you more'n me."
+
+April was nearly over before Alfred went back. He might have been
+transferred to his dépôt, following the example of the hero. Sir
+Geoffrey was quite willing to pull more strings, and hinted as much to
+Sergeant Yellam. Alfred refused the kind offer, pledging the Squire to
+secrecy. Something he couldn't define, some dominating, irresistible
+impulse drew him to his own men. He admitted to the Squire that he was
+sorely tempted.
+
+"I know my job, Sir Geoffrey. And I know how bad we are wanted."
+
+Upon the eve of departure Fancy told him that she hoped, she believed,
+she was almost sure that the wish of both their hearts would be granted.
+If he got Yuletide leave, he might be in time for a christening.
+
+Mother and wife travelled to Southampton to speed the Sergeant on his
+way. No tears were shed till his broad back was turned on them at the
+dock-gates. They were spared that heart-twisting spectacle, the slow
+warping from the wharf of a great transport, the strains of "The Girl he
+left behind Him," the long line of faces packed close above the
+bulwarks, the interminable wait till the ship became a blur upon the
+waters.
+
+In silence they returned by train to Salisbury, sitting side by side,
+gripping each other's hands. A drizzle of rain obscured the landscape.
+Fancy told herself that sunshine would have been hard to bear.
+Capricious Nature seemed to be mourning with her, dropping soft tears
+upon a past four months so enchanting that they seemed, to-day, unreal,
+a mirage, too beautiful to be seen again. But Spring laughs through her
+showers. Before Nether-Applewhite was reached, the sun shone below the
+clouds, setting in a blaze of crimson splendour. Solomon greeted the
+women joyously; in the water meadows the Squire's black-and-white
+Frisian-Holsteins were grazing quietly; now and again Fancy heard the
+bleat of a calf. The plaintive cry seemed to turn her from a girl into a
+woman. She realised that never again could she be the girl of yesterday.
+Alfred would kiss a matron when he returned.
+
+After supper, when things were washed up, and Mrs. Yellam had taken up
+her sewing, Fancy disappeared for a moment, returning with her pack of
+cards. Mrs. Yellam made no comment at first, but she fidgeted in her
+armchair. As Fancy shuffled the pack, she said quietly:
+
+"Don't, dear!"
+
+"I must, Mother. They told true before."
+
+"Very well."
+
+Resolutely she turned her eyes to her needle, not daring to look at
+Fancy's face. She found herself wondering whether Fancy would be tempted
+to cheat, to shuffle back some card of ill-omen. After an eternity of
+suspense, she heard Fancy's clear voice:
+
+"It's quite all right. He's coming back."
+
+Mrs. Yellam laid down her sewing, and rose majestically. In a small
+cupboard, a special sanctuary to the right of the hearth, she kept some
+home-made cordials: mead, currant wine, and ginger-brandy. Upon very
+special occasions she would produce such strong waters, and drink one
+small glass, not more. Her feelings might be gauged by the cordial
+selected. Mead was well enough after village christenings and
+churchings; the currant wine was stronger tipple, and very heartening
+after a wedding. The ginger-brandy warmed bodies chilled by winter
+funerals.
+
+She took down the currant wine, and fetched two glasses. Having filled
+them to the brim, she gave one to Fancy and held up the other.
+
+"Alferd."
+
+They clinked glasses and drank, very solemnly. Mrs. Yellam replaced the
+bottle of wine and washed the glasses. Returning to her chair, she
+perceived that Fancy was re-shuffling the cards.
+
+"Leave well alone, child."
+
+"I want to try something else."
+
+"What, you queer creature?"
+
+"I'm wondering whether IT will be a He or a She?"
+
+"What notions you has, to be sure!"
+
+Fancy laughed and dealt on. Mrs. Yellam sat down, looking into the
+smouldering embers, seeing, possibly, the shadowy forms of the children
+she had lost. The wooden cradle which had rocked them to sleep stood in
+its place to the left of the fireplace--full of logs. It would serve for
+Fancy's child, for her own grandchild. And upstairs, in an old chest of
+drawers, lay some little things, tiny shifts and frocks with lavender
+between them. Once, in a moment of dull despair, she had resolved to
+burn them. A kindlier thought had urged her to give them, away. She had
+put that thought from her frowningly. How deeply the gain of others
+magnifies and distorts our own loss! Happy instinct must have
+constrained her to keep these garments made by her own hands, although
+at the time she never recked that they might be worn, so long
+afterwards, by flesh of her flesh and bone of her bone.
+
+"Mother...."
+
+"Ah-h-h! You've settled the affair, have 'ee?"
+
+"Yes. 'Tis a boy--another Alfred. Ain't you glad?"
+
+"I be ready to welcome any babe, boy or girl, as belongs to Alferd--and
+you."
+
+Solomon, dreaming blissfully of rats, woke up and wagged his tail.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+LEANNESS OF SOUL
+
+
+Life meandered on in the village. Mrs. Yellam spent her mornings at
+Pomfret Court; Fancy took her place in the afternoon; they were together
+during the light-lengthening evenings. By this happy arrangement, two
+women, not of the same temperament, never saw too much of each other.
+They met at supper, glad to exchange the mild gossip of the day. And,
+always, after uneasy matutinal hours, Fancy felt a renewed zest in life,
+an appetite for work amongst the "boys," and a delightful consciousness
+that physical strength--heretofore lacking--was slowly coming to fortify
+a frail body against the still far-off ordeal. She learnt much from Mrs.
+Yellam, and said so with flattering reiteration. Mrs. Yellam may have
+learnt more from her, but she did not say so. That, perhaps, constituted
+the essential difference between them. Fancy's thoughts and ideas
+bubbled out of her mind, effervescent, like water from a chalybeate
+spring. Mrs. Yellam had suppressed her intimate thoughts since
+childhood. What she said, indeed, masked her real feelings, conveying to
+others an impression of shrewdness, cocksureness and unruffled calm. It
+would be grossly unfair to speak of this as a pose. Since girlhood, she
+had been shrewd, sure of herself, and calm. Now, when she was past
+sixty, these comfortable and admirable attributes deserted her. She
+judged herself quite as severely as she judged her neighbours. She knew
+that, inwardly, she was questioning her wisdom, her cherished
+convictions, and her unruffled deportment.
+
+"I be a whited sepulchre," she told Solomon.
+
+Nevertheless, during these Spring days, when May was dancing in the
+woods and across the fields, rest and refreshment fell upon Mrs.
+Yellam's perplexed mind. By sheer force of will, for her own sake and
+for Fancy's sake, she called "Pax" to introspection, and, like a
+schoolboy, almost believed that the kindliest dew from heaven had fallen
+upon her. During this month, too, Alfred happened to be out of the
+danger zone, busy with new drafts who had not yet been under fire. And
+everybody in Nether-Applewhite predicted that the war must end soon
+because sheer exhaustion, military and economic, affected so
+tremendously the belligerents. Upon this _cheval de bataille_ Sir
+Geoffrey Pomfret rode over all obstacles. Old Captain Davenant bestrode
+just such another charger. Uncle, you may be sure, ran with them,
+throwing his tongue, speaking to a breast-high scent.
+
+"We be nigh the end on't," he told his cronies. "They Proosians be more
+fed up wi' mud and blood than us. I talks of what I knows. The slaughter
+o' they Huns be so fearsome that Kayser Bill be a-thinkin' night and day
+o' polligammy."
+
+"Polly--who? I never heard tell o' she, Uncle."
+
+To this interruption Uncle replied with something of his sister's
+majesty.
+
+"Ah-h-h! This war'd be over now, if beastly ignerunce ran mute.
+Polligammy be practised, as I told old Captain, by cannibals and such.
+For why? Because they eats up the young men, and then there bain't
+husbands enough to go round. Polligammy allows a man to marry so many
+wives as he's a mind to."
+
+"Lard preserve our dear lives!"
+
+"Yes, my sonnies, that's how life be preserved amongst savage tribes.
+They Huns be cannibals and worse. When I told Squire as they fellers
+used corps to make them tasty Bolony sausages, he couldn't believe me;
+but 'tis a fact."
+
+"How do you know?" asked William Saint.
+
+"Never you mind how I knows, Saint Willum. I don't never help myself to
+what isn't mine. I nourishes meself wi' sober truth, not lies. Where be
+I? Ah, yes. Well, neighbours, they be come to that pretty pass,
+polligammy. I allows that one wife be enough for me."
+
+"More than enough, 'tis said, Uncle."
+
+"You be seldom right, my man, but times you hit the mark. Now, I figures
+it out this way. They Huns be savages, but not fools. One wife be more'n
+enough for any man, and if so be as Kayser Bill makes polligammy the law
+in German land, why, I says they won't stick it. 'Tis the beginning o'
+the end."
+
+An old gaffer was not sure about this. Women in Germany, so he'd been
+told, worked with dogs in carts. A farmer with fifty wives might get a
+lot of work out of them. The gaffer spoke with some authority, having
+buried three wives in his time. All present knew that they had worked
+hard for their husband. Uncle, however, after more strong talk and weak
+ale, convinced his audience that peace would be declared before October.
+Wiser folk held the same opinion.
+
+The villagers, at last, were beginning to feel the pinch of war. Wages
+had risen, greatly to their satisfaction, but prices outstripped them.
+The local store closed shutters, because the proprietor was called up.
+The baker was baking bread somewhere in the North Sea. On Sundays Mrs.
+Yellam and other housewives ate cold victuals for dinner, unless they
+stayed away from Morning Service to make hot beef-and-kidney puddings.
+Shopping had to be done in Salisbury. This meant increased business for
+the carrier. But, unhappily, Alfred's _locum tenens_ lacked the
+executive ability to cope successfully with a glut of orders.
+
+In August, William Saint began a daily service to the county town. Peace
+fled, silently, from Mrs. Yellam's pillow.
+
+In September, worse followed. Fortune, cruel jade, lashed out at Mrs.
+Yellam, striking her hard below the belt. Alfred's resplendent 'bus was
+knocked into a deep ditch by a huge Government trolley, which rolled
+serenely on--undamaged.
+
+_Et tu, Brute----!_
+
+Try to picture Mrs. Yellam's feelings. The 'bus was out of action. That
+in itself might be deemed a serious mishap, to use a word often in
+Nether-Applewhite mouths, a word applicable to murders, chicken-pox,
+frozen water-pipes and other domestic disasters. External and internal
+injuries to the car might be set right in six weeks or so. Skilled
+mechanics in Salisbury were overworked. No definite promise could be
+extracted from the firm that sold the 'bus to Alfred. But the driver,
+the middle-aged man whom, with all his faults, Mrs. Yellam had come to
+regard as a tower of sobriety and honesty, sustained concussion of the
+brain. He soon recovered from this but, alas! his nerve was gone.
+Obstinately, deaf to Fancy's coaxing and to Mrs. Yellam's trenchant
+protestations, he tendered notice. How could he be replaced? By the time
+that the 'bus was in order again--insurance covered all damage--William
+Saint would have captured Alfred's faithful customers; the faithless
+were his already.
+
+But what rankled so bitterly in Mrs. Yellam's heart, and would have
+provoked the Cæsarean apostrophe had she indulged in quotations from the
+Swan of Avon, was the tormenting reflection that the Army had dealt her
+this parlous blow, the Army she loved, because Alfred was part of it.
+Rampaging on, like a ruthless Juggernaut, the trolley had crashed into
+the 'bus, wiping it out, killing it and burying it in a ditch.
+
+Sympathy flowed into the Yellam cottage from all points of the compass,
+a generous flood upon which Fancy floated buoyantly. Poor Mrs. Yellam
+sank beneath it, helplessly aware of its significance. Everybody, of
+course, knew that Alfred's business was bound up in the 'bus, ditched
+indefinitely, perhaps forever. The cynical thought obtruded itself,
+grinning derisively; help was proffered so eagerly, because it could not
+be accepted.
+
+Satan had triumphed again.
+
+Uncle was nearly as much upset as the 'bus. The gallant fellow offered
+his services to his sister.
+
+"Look 'ee here, Susan. I be a man o' parts. 'Tis no trick for me to larn
+motor-drivin'. To use a figure o' speech, I be a born shover, clever, as
+you be, wi' my brain and my fingers. Such a thatcher as Habakkuk Mucklow
+be fit for anything. I feel it in me, dear, to command armies. Say the
+word, and I'll declare war wi' Saint Willum; I'll downscramble 'un in
+two jiffs."
+
+Mrs. Yellam thanked him, but the word was not said.
+
+She appeared to accept misfortune with grim resignation. Not even to
+Fancy dared she unveil her heart. Alone with Solomon, she permitted a
+few words to escape.
+
+"My faith, Solly, be on the wing again. Why should God Almighty raise
+His hand against an old 'ooman? He might ha' seen fit to cripple me wi'
+rheumatics. I could ha' borne that wi'out whimpering. But why do He
+exalt Willum Saint? That's what tears me, my dog."
+
+Solomon spared no effort of mind or body in the attempt to assure his
+mistress that these high matters were apprehended by all dumb animals.
+Conscious of failure, he became very dejected.
+
+A letter from Alfred heartened her a little.
+
+     "Dear Mother:" (he wrote) "I hope this finds you in the
+     pink, as it leaves me. Don't worry about the old 'bus! _I
+     don't, not a bit._ I have a notion that if you worry much
+     'twill be bad for Fancy and for Somebody Else, you know who
+     I mean. As for William Saint, I say this--take a squint at
+     his face! I wouldn't have his liver for the best carrying
+     business in the world. If you've set your dear heart on my
+     punching a rascal's head, I'll do it, so soon as I get back,
+     and make a job of it, too. Hard blows hurt them as get them;
+     hard thoughts hurt them as think them. I puzzled that out in
+     the trenches, where we be making very merry again. You'll
+     worry too about the loss of money. I say to that--_Napoo_!
+     That's French. I parleyvoo with the best of them, but when
+     it comes to buying stuff, they do me in a fair treat...."
+
+Mrs. Yellam read and re-read the letter. Fancy was at the Court when it
+came. Then she said to Solomon:
+
+"Wherever does that boy o' mine get his Christian principles? Not from
+me, Solly, not from me. Wag tail, little man, and I'll tell 'ee for why.
+Willum Saint, next Christmas, maybe, 'll take such a head to Salisbury
+as never was."
+
+Sol barked.
+
+Alfred's sentence about merry-making in the trenches provoked much
+thought. Mrs. Yellam had talked freely with scores of wounded Tommies.
+They came, they conquered all reserves, they went. Some actually
+complained that life in Nether-Applewhite seemed "dull" after the "fun"
+in the dug-outs. At first, she suspected "leg-pulling," but she limped
+to the slow conclusion that the high spirits of these gallant fellows
+came _from_ the trenches, and were not, as she had supposed at first, a
+natural result of finding themselves snug and safe after shell-fire.
+Possessing the qualities which distinguish a "tufting" hound--a good
+nose for a scent, staying powers, and tenacity in sticking to her
+quarry, Mrs. Yellam decided, ultimately, that millions of young men and
+women were living, like gnats, for the passing hour, buzzing gaily here
+and there, utterly regardless of past and future.
+
+Could she bring herself to so happy a condition of mind?
+
+"Take no thought for the morrow."
+
+That injunction couldn't be ignored. Nevertheless, she had ignored it
+all her life. Hence, from a material point of view, her sound economic
+condition. She was independent of the 'bus.
+
+Such thoughts were obsessing, also, the parson of the parish.
+
+Hamlin was quite as handicapped as Mrs. Yellam by principles adopted
+long ago which he deemed, before the war, to be bomb-proof. He had
+pinned his faith to the masses, dismissing the classes as effete and
+lapped in luxury and indifference. All workers appealed to him
+irresistibly; men and women of leisure rather exasperated him. He held
+with Matthew Arnold that conduct was three-fourths of life, whereas
+culture might or might not claim the odd quarter.
+
+The masses had disappointed him. The classes seemed to have justified
+their claim to superiority not in mere education but in a capacity and
+willingness to scrap self-interest which astounded him. He had expected,
+too, a tremendous upward movement from German Socialists. Indeed, he had
+regarded the Socialists of Europe as a band of brothers prepared to
+stand shoulder to shoulder against autocracy.
+
+And they had not done so.
+
+He could find for the masses, not at the front, all the excuses which
+fell so glibly from the lips of Democracy's champions. Strikers
+complained of lack of good faith on the part of the Government, of local
+injustices, of this and that, but the fact remained that self-interest
+swayed them, as it had swayed the privileged classes before the war. The
+tables seemed to be turned. Aristocracy, governed possibly by its fine
+motto, "_Noblesse oblige_," hurled self-interest to the void; Democracy
+picked it up and hugged it. Indisputable evidence exhibited Labour as
+rejoicing in an increased wage, and spending pounds a week upon
+luxuries, many actually praying that the war might continue, because
+they believed that the end of it would mean a return to dull, grinding
+pre-war conditions.
+
+And Hamlin admitted sorrowfully to himself that if the war did end
+suddenly, leaving Labour triumphant, insatiate for more and more wealth,
+and in a position to dictate terms to Capital, that the country would be
+plunged into abysmal depths, depths in which new tyrants would impose a
+new slavery without any of the restrictions which culture and tradition
+had prescribed upon the former autocrats and plutocrats.
+
+He envisaged England at the mercy of the mob!
+
+With pleasure and relief he turned from the Industrials to the Soldiers.
+What a fine spirit animated them! With Mrs. Yellam, he had arrived, by a
+different road, at the same conclusion.
+
+Our men of all ranks were facing unspeakable horrors with a laugh.
+
+How had it come to pass?
+
+According to Hamlin's teaching, a supreme Sacrifice, a Divine Atonement,
+had regenerated the pagan world. Did sacrifice make not only for
+regeneration but for joyousness? Lionel Pomfret, still on his crutches,
+was joyous. The Squire, after the sale of many heirlooms, was joyous. A
+finer humanity informed him, radiating from him.
+
+The Parson pondered these things in his heart. He might have found
+another object-lesson in William Saint. He was unmistakably prospering,
+making money hand over fist. But he was not joyous.
+
+Very reluctantly, Hamlin decided that the time for peace might be far
+distant, if the designs of Omnipotence were rightly apprehended by him.
+Armageddon would continue till pain had purged the whole world, till
+materialism in its hydraheaded forms was slain by spirituality, by a
+faith, simple as that preached by the Nazarene, which counted worldly
+gain as naught if such gain involved the loss of the soul.
+
+Faithful to his promise to Alfred, Hamlin kept a watchful eye on Mrs.
+Yellam. Her empty pew had affected him poignantly. He thought of empty
+pews throughout Europe. They stood mute witnesses against teachers and
+preachers, against creeds that crumbled when the cannon thundered. He
+respected this old woman for braving gossip by staying at home. She had
+moral courage, nearly as rare and even more precious than common-sense.
+But when she came back to her pew, when he heard her loud responses, he
+realised sadly that her son, not her God, had found this wandering sheep
+and led it back to the fold.
+
+At any moment the pew might be empty again.
+
+Next Sunday, he took for his text the verse out of the
+hundredth-and-sixth Psalm:
+
+"_And He gave them their desire; but withal He sent leanness into their
+soul._"
+
+No coincidence was involved in this choice of a text. Fancy Broomfield,
+before she married, had asked her master to explain "leanness of soul."
+He had said a few simple words. Afterwards, he jotted down some notes
+and put them away.
+
+He re-read these notes, thinking of William Saint, whose activities had
+not escaped his notice. But he wrote the sermon with a wider
+application. And although he had to bear in mind the limited
+intelligence of his congregation, what he set down constituted an
+indictment of a material, world-wide prosperity.
+
+Hamlin began by reminding his parishioners of what he had said in his
+sermon on patriotism: the soul in its essence was always right.
+
+"What there is of it," he added impressively. "Some souls are very
+lean."
+
+Jane Mucklow maintained afterwards that the Parson looked hard at Uncle.
+Uncle was equally positive that austere eyes dwelt on Jane. Mrs. Yellam
+sat bolt upright in her pew with Fancy beside her. William Saint assumed
+an air of detachment. He attended church once a week to curry favour
+with his Squire and landlord. He held Hamlin in some disdain, because so
+able a man had pushed himself no farther along preferment's highway than
+Nether-Applewhite. A man who had played cricket for the Gentlemen of
+England ought surely to be a dean at least, if he had any gumption in
+him.
+
+Hamlin repeated the text.
+
+"I want you to notice," he said, in his quiet voice, "that the word
+'soul' is used in the singular. God sent leanness into the soul of His
+people. Nations, therefore, like individuals, possess souls.
+
+"Has leanness entered into our national soul?
+
+"We have prospered exceedingly. We are even richer than our expert
+accountants deemed us to be. Some of you may have glanced casually at
+the stupendous figures which set forth the wealth and resources of the
+British Empire. We forget to consider how this vast wealth is piled up.
+It is not my purpose to consider that with you, to-day. But such
+consideration is the duty of those who are able to deal intelligently
+with these astounding figures.
+
+"We have been, in short, given our desire.
+
+"In the text you will note that God gave His people their desire; and
+then He sent leanness into their souls.
+
+"What was their desire? The Psalmist informs us in the context. God's
+Chosen People had wandered from Him. They had corrupted themselves, as
+we read in Exodus. I will cite one instance known to the youngest child
+here: they had set up and worshipped the calf of Horeb, the golden calf,
+which has stood forth ever since as the symbol of Mammon, the symbol of
+material prosperity. They wanted this golden calf, and God gave it to
+them. And then He sent leanness into their soul.
+
+"To many of us this text presents difficulties. Is it wrong for a nation
+to desire worldly prosperity? Is it wrong for an individual, for any one
+of us, to desire to better one's condition in life, to rise, as it is
+called, in the world? Most certainly not. Such a desire is firmly rooted
+in every healthy nation, in every healthy man and woman. It is basic,
+the mainspring of human endeavour and human advancement, rooted in
+nations and individuals by God.
+
+"The desire, then, in its simplest form, must be right. Its
+accomplishment may be utterly wrong.
+
+"Desires change their character during accomplishment. Thrift, for
+instance, may degenerate into parsimony; temperance, if uncontrolled,
+leads to intemperance; the noblest ambitions may become insensate;
+proper care of the body, which I have commended to you, may end in
+vanity; love, alas! is often deformed into lust. All that is obvious.
+Nobody here questions it.
+
+"Desires, then, face two ways. They may lead us to God or away from Him;
+they may enrich or impoverish the soul.
+
+"But why, you may ask, does God, as in the text, deliberately gratify
+soul-impoverishing desires in a nation, with the knowledge and therefore
+with the intention of making the soul of that nation lean?
+
+"The answer is plain. Nations, like individuals, exercise the privilege
+of free-will. The choice between good and evil is theirs, as it is mine,
+and yours.
+
+"How can we tell whether the soul of a nation be lean?
+
+"There is an infallible test, the same test which each of us must apply
+to ourselves. Never forget that what we think, we are. What we go on
+thinking, we become. By a nation's thoughts, by your own thoughts, the
+soul's stature may be measured. If the thoughts of a nation, if your own
+thoughts, dwell habitually upon self-advancement and self-indulgence, be
+sure that the soul is dwindling instead of expanding. If our thoughts,
+collectively or individually, are hard, jealous thoughts concerning
+other nations, the soul is growing lean. But when we think of others
+with love animating our thoughts, and if that love, in ever-widening
+circles, includes not only our friends but all, all who claim from us
+pity and consideration, then it is very well with the soul. It is
+expanding, and it is capable of an expansion so immense that, like Time
+and Space, no finite mind can measure it. Hate impoverishes souls and
+bodies. A man under the influence of violent passion is physically the
+worse. Any doctor will tell you that. A nation convulsed by hate is
+physically weaker. Violence is not strength. It may appear to be so for
+a brief time. In a stand-up fight, between two men, the man who loses
+his temper is likely to lose the victory. At this moment, a gospel of
+hate is convulsing our enemies. We may, and must, hate what they have
+done, the atrocious crimes perpetrated by and for Authority, but let us
+beware of hating, as they hate, because such rancour eats away the soul.
+Let us remember Who said: 'God forgive them, for they know not what they
+do!'
+
+"Let us consider more attentively the desires of a nation and their
+direction--upward or downward. I repeat emphatically that the desires of
+a nation are the desires of the individual immeasurably multiplied.
+
+"And, first, I should like to suggest to you that desires concerned with
+material ends, such as money, or any other worldly ambition, are
+generally gratified, provided we work for them hard enough.
+
+"When are desires soul-impoverishing? How can we tell when a nation or
+an individual, after rising steadily upward, reaches a point from which
+they and he, as steadily, descend?
+
+"The answer may be found in the Book of Micah: 'He hath shewed thee, O
+man, what is good, and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do
+justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?'
+
+"In itself a nation can achieve much, so can an individual; but if
+self-advancement, in any form, whether modest or far-reaching, relies
+upon itself and takes to itself the credit and glory, then we are not
+walking humbly with God, but speeding from Him along a road that may
+lead to success, as the world interprets success, but which leads, also,
+to disappointment, disillusionment, and often at the last--despair.
+
+"The great conquerors of history have not been happy men.
+
+"Everything that is done vaingloriously turns to ashes. From that sad
+thought we may take this much consolation. Ashes, as you farmers know,
+are great fertilisers. I know of no greater proof of God's wisdom and
+mercy than this: the ashes of our failures do, so I believe, cause good
+to bloom out of evil.
+
+"If it be true that leanness has been sent into the soul of this nation,
+if we have not walked humbly with God, what can be done? The answer is
+to be found not only in the Bible, but in every chapter of the world's
+history. We must make atonement by sacrifice."
+
+He paused, and many remembered that pause afterwards. The preacher stood
+erect, but his eyes were not on the congregation. They looked out
+dreamily into a world in anguish. Tears trickled down Fancy's cheeks.
+With her quick sensibilities, she divined that the Parson's thoughts had
+flown to France, where his Benjamin was fighting, not in hate, none who
+knew the boy could believe that, but inspired by the faith that a
+selfless Cause would triumph. Instantly, her own thoughts flew to
+Alfred. If--if sacrifice were demanded of her--? She looked up. Some
+intuition told her that Hamlin was ready for any sacrifice. His face
+appeared calm. But she became aware of tension, as if a far-seeing man
+were braced against impending calamity. She recalled stories current in
+the village after the _Lusitania_ was torpedoed: stories of men who had
+confronted death without a tremor. Surely, at such a moment God stood
+with them.
+
+Would He stand with her, if Alfred did not come back?
+
+She stole a glance at Mrs. Yellam.
+
+Her face remained impassive. But again intuition told Fancy that this
+outward calmness masked bitter trouble and perplexity. Timidly she
+slipped her hand into the hand of the old woman, pressing it gently. The
+pressure was not returned, because, perhaps, it may not have been felt.
+Mrs. Yellam, Fancy perceived, was staring at a mural tablet to the right
+of the pulpit, new and shining brass upon which were inscribed the names
+of two nephews of Captain Davenant. He had read the Lessons, as usual,
+but in a less rasping voice, so she had thought. She heard Hamlin's
+quiet tones:
+
+"Let us prepare ourselves for greater sacrifices."
+
+The rest of the sermon was devoted to particular rather than general
+ends. The Parson appealed, as was his wont, to the children, and the
+younger members of the congregation, the twigs waiting to be inclined.
+And to these his appeal was persuasive and suggestive, never didactic or
+minatory. He shone best when conducting a children's service, when he
+walked amongst them using the simplest words.
+
+Perhaps he knew that the middle-aged and old could be touched to finer
+issues indirectly. In every heart, however worn and tired, there lingers
+a subtle fragrance of youth which thought of youth releases. The sad
+fact that many of the elder people were mourning may have tempered what
+speech he addressed to them, and many of them were aware of this,
+shifting uneasily in their pews as they remembered similar words spoken
+in the same place by the same man twenty years back.
+
+Once more, Mrs. Yellam walked home in silence. Fancy, engrossed by her
+own thoughts, did not speak till they entered the cottage. Then she
+said, hesitatingly:
+
+"'Tis strange. We talked of lean souls the first day Alfie brought me to
+see you."
+
+"Ay--so we did."
+
+"And afterwards I asked Mr. Hamlin to tell me what 'lean souls' meant."
+
+"Did 'ee? He never looked once at me this marning."
+
+"Why should he?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam answered heavily:
+
+"I dunno. But I'd a notion that he had me in mind. 'Twas a notable
+sermon, but----"
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"He ain't been tried as I have."
+
+She went upstairs slowly to take off her bonnet and shawl.
+
+Upon the following Wednesday, the sermon assumed a fresh importance and
+significance.
+
+Edward Hamlin was killed in action.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+SAINT WILLUM
+
+
+It was a blow over the heart to Nether-Applewhite. Master Teddy, as
+everybody called him, had grown to man's estate amongst the villagers,
+but he was remembered as a boy, full of pranks, a bit of a scapegrace,
+with a smile that Uncle affirmed to be "so good as sixpence." Uncle
+assumed a band of crêpe, and said to Susan Yellam:
+
+"Master Teddy be taken, and us useless old sticks be left. I taught 'un
+to set night lines. He'd a tang o' the poacher, he had, but allers ready
+to give away what trout he catched out o' old Captain's water. Bold as
+brass, too, wi' rich or poor. And a good fighter. He fit 'No Account
+Harry' back o' village pound, and licked 'un, too, a boy bigger'n
+older'n he. A pleasant word for all, and fair bustin' wi' fun and
+kindness. I tell 'ee this, I be so sorrowful as if I'd lost a son, but
+there's rejoicing where he be gone. I can see Saint Peter a-openin' wide
+the gate to let 'un in."
+
+Greater orators have declaimed less sincere funeral orations.
+
+Mrs. Yellam said little. Her troubled face made Fancy unhappy. But when
+she spoke of Edward Hamlin, Mrs. Yellam cut her short:
+
+"He be gone. It don't bear speaking of. Why should such as he be
+sacrificed to atone for our sins?"
+
+"If God gave His Only Son----!"
+
+"Ah-h-h! That be it. _If...._"
+
+"Mother!"
+
+"You be shocked, and no wonder. But unless I speaks what I feels to 'ee,
+I must hold my tongue. And more decent, too. I be mazed beyond words. I
+be losing my grip o' this world and the next."
+
+Fancy met Hamlin two days afterwards as she was leaving Pomfret Court.
+She quickened her step, but he stopped still. She said simply:
+
+"I be so grieved about Mr. Edward. He was so full of life."
+
+Hamlin took her hand.
+
+"Thank you. The sympathy of all of you is much to me, more than you
+think." He paused adding slowly: "He may be fuller of life, Fancy, where
+he is now."
+
+She went her way, strangely comforted. Her time was approaching. Soon
+she must remain at home, awaiting her ordeal. She confronted that with
+the courage which is so often the attribute of physically frail women.
+The month before the wonderful event would be happily occupied in making
+the _layette_ or such of it as Mrs. Yellam couldn't provide; and Fancy
+had in mind the lining and trimming of a baby-basket fit for a tiny
+prince. She intended to embroider a broad blue riband with this legend:
+"To my little son." She made absolutely certain that the child would be
+a son. Already she had envisaged his life from the cradle to the grave.
+She wouldn't allow him to play too rough games, but he must be a _Man_;
+she shrank from what he would have to go through before he attained his
+sire's stature; she rehearsed a prayer suitable for babbling lips; she
+arrayed him in knickerbockers and despatched him to school, with many
+injunctions not to play truant, or pull the hair of small girls, or be
+pert to his teacher. Of course, he would be just such a son to her as
+Alfred was to his mother. She went so far in mental vagabondage as to
+choose a wife for him, a very practical young woman with a reassuring
+physique, quite unlike herself. Being his father's son, every inch of
+him, it was certain that he would have "affairs" with other young women
+before he chose the "One and Only." Fancy meant to deal faithfully with
+such flirtations. One of them would nearly capture the youth. He would
+be saved from a too audacious baggage by his mother! She hoped that he
+would not be too good, but full of fun, like Mr. Edward. He would be a
+carrier, because all wars would be over and done with after this war.
+
+These were her day-dreams.
+
+At night, she was not so happy. At night she thought much of Mrs.
+Yellam. That troubled face formed itself in the dark, mutely entreating
+comfort and counsel which Fancy could not evoke out of her eagerness to
+help a sorely-stricken creature.
+
+Why did Mrs. Yellam borrow trouble?
+
+Why did she believe that God had forsaken her? What a terrible notion
+this of Satan supreme and triumphant in Nether-Applewhite! But she had
+faith in God's mercy. He would lift this black cloud from a poor old
+woman's heart.
+
+About two weeks after Edward Hamlin's death, unexpected balm, very
+precious spikenard, was poured upon Mrs. Yellam's lacerated feelings.
+William Saint had got his desire and leanness of soul withal. Alfred's
+good business was his. When he drove past the Yellam cottage, Mrs.
+Yellam turned her face from the window, if she happened to be there. She
+told Uncle that she discerned a mocking smile, a contemptuous upper lip,
+upon that hard, yellow face. Uncle nodded, saying nothing. But leaving
+his sister's house, he laid a couple of fingers upon his biceps as he
+contracted the muscles of it. He smiled genially. His biceps still
+swelled hard and big as a cricket ball. And only the day before he had
+been out running with the hounds. William Saint did not run. He walked
+to his objectives, the sort of tortoise, Uncle reflected, who wins
+prizes from the more nimble hare.
+
+He was so pleasant with Jane that she suspected a frontal attack upon
+her money-box. Uncle, however, impetrated no loan. Later in the
+afternoon, when she went to the fowl-house to collect eggs, she
+surprised her lord and master, with his coat off, vigorously punching a
+sack of bran in the shed that adjoined the chicken-run.
+
+"Whatever be you doing?" she asked.
+
+Uncle grinned.
+
+"I be working off some ale, Jane. So thin stuff it be that I wants to
+get rid of it quick."
+
+"I thought you was gone mad."
+
+"Ah-h-h! Others may think that afore we be much older."
+
+To her further amazement, Uncle remained at home that evening instead of
+going to the _Sir John Barleycorn_. She wondered if he were sickening
+for an illness. Possibly, the Parson's sermon on lean souls had affected
+him. Presently Uncle's earnest words lent colour to this possibility. He
+observed didactically:
+
+"Hate be bad for the body. Parson got that notion from me. A man as
+hates his feller-men, and lies awake nights plottin' and plannin' evil,
+bain't never a fighter."
+
+"How about they Proosians?"
+
+Uncle riposted gaily:
+
+"I hain't one to misparage the enemy, but from what I hears, and you
+knows I hears more than most, they Proosians fights wi' wallopin' big
+guns, not wi' fisteses."
+
+"Who's talking o' fisteses?"
+
+"I be. I reckons as a man past sixty might well stand up to a Proosian
+not more'n thirty."
+
+"You ain't never thinking of enlisting, Habakkuk?"
+
+"No, no. I couldn't leave 'ee, Jane."
+
+"You takes keer o' yourself for my sake. I knows that. What be you
+thinking of?"
+
+"You'll know soon enough, old girl. I minds that time when I bruised
+meself so bad slidin' off a slippery roof bang on to a stone wall. You
+rubbed in some wonnerful stuff. Any of it left?"
+
+"Lard help us! I knew you'd miss your ale. You bain't never thinking o'
+drinking Helliman's Embrocation?"
+
+"Not yet. Have you the bottle handy?"
+
+Jane nodded; Uncle relapsed into silence, broken by rumblings and
+chucklings. He went to bed early and slept soundly.
+
+Next afternoon, at four, he entered the sanded bar of Saint's tavern.
+Saint drove his 'bus to Salisbury upon alternate days. He had a man to
+take his place upon the other days when business kept him at home.
+Behind the bar stood a fresh-coloured young woman, quick of tongue and
+hand, floridly good-looking, with very alert eyes. Gossip affirmed that
+she was secretly engaged to Saint. Jane Mucklow remarked that the hussy
+ought to be, if she wasn't. Uncle greeted her pleasantly, nodded to
+those present, called for a tankard of ale, and enquired tenderly after
+Saint Willum. The young woman frowned. Then she said sharply:
+
+"I've a mind to tell you something."
+
+The company present pricked ears. Uncle smiled, drawing himself up,
+inflating his chest, quite ready for a preliminary spar.
+
+"You tell it, my girl. 'Tis crool to think o' what wimmen-folk suffer
+from allers holding their tongues."
+
+"Your tongue is too sharp. Mr. Saint is civil to you. Be civil to him.
+That's all."
+
+She drew his ale, and handed it to him.
+
+Uncle looked at her with twinkling eyes. She was making things easy for
+him, and he felt quite grateful to her. She had fired the first shot.
+This might or might not be used as a _casus belli_. He said, meaningly:
+
+"Be that advice or a warning like?"
+
+"Take it as both, Mr. Mucklow."
+
+"I will. Now, tell me this, my girl; be you speaking for yourself, or
+for your master? If you be speaking for yourself, I be minded to tell
+'ee that you be paid to serve customers, and not to improve their
+manners. If you be speaking for Willum Saint, I thanks you very kindly
+and passes no more remarks."
+
+This, it will be admitted, was a crafty speech on Uncle's part, and
+pleased him mightily. The girl was sure to resent a rebuke before
+others, and already the gaffers were grinning at her. If she shifted
+responsibility to Saint Willum, a _casus belli_ had been established.
+The young woman lacked Uncle's _finesse_. She answered sullenly:
+
+"I spoke up for Mr. Saint, because he's not here to speak for himself."
+
+Uncle felt that this was not satisfactory enough, although promising.
+
+"You means," he said incisively, "that you speaks words which your
+master bain't man enough to speak for hisself, either to my face or
+behind me back?"
+
+The derisive intonation placed upon "master" brought a flush to the
+girl's cheek. Her eyes sparkled. And she believed Saint to be a man.
+
+"If you want it straight," she retorted, "the words I used have been
+spoken by Mr. Saint and others."
+
+"Thank 'ee," said Uncle, lifting his tankard. "I drinks to your good
+health, miss. Cheer oh! as our dear lads say."
+
+He buried his nose in the tankard. But he drank little in it, carrying
+it to the stout oak table near the fire. The gaffers testified
+afterwards, that Uncle's talk, before Saint came in, was even more
+genial and easy than usual. And Saint's face, when he appeared, was in
+marked contrast to Uncle's rubicund cheerful countenance. Obviously
+Saint was out of temper. He had been cited to appear before the local
+tribunal again, and exemption might not be granted twice. "Comb-out"
+articles were appearing in the daily press. And Saint, who tapped
+private sources of information, was well aware that Captain Davenant,
+Chairman of the Board, had expressed a strong opinion that Saint, a
+Class A fellow, b'George! ought to be kicked into the ranks. Saint had
+just begun to realise, also, that he was hoist with his own petard.
+Alfred Yellam, as carrier, set a precedent, shewing that carriers could
+find less able-bodied men to transact necessary local business.
+
+Uncle looked hard at him.
+
+"What's wrong, Saint Willum?" he asked, in the drawling tone that always
+provoked a cackle from the gaffers.
+
+Saint looked hard at Uncle. He had good reason for knowing that Uncle
+saw eye to eye with the Captain. Before entering the bar, the landlord
+of the _Sir John Barleycorn_ had drunk some whisky from a bottle which
+he kept locked up in his bedroom. In a word, he was ripe for a quarrel.
+
+"What's wrong?" he repeated viciously. "You are. I'm fed up with your
+insolence. You take yourself off to the _Pomfret Arms_. The landlord
+there may want your money and your sauce. I've had enough of both."
+
+The young woman smiled. If, as she expected, and not without good
+reason, William Saint became her husband, he might turn out, with
+discreet handling, a docile helpmeet. Within twenty-four hours, she had
+urged him to "out" Habakkuk Mucklow at the first opportunity. Saint had
+hesitated, observing angrily that he detested Uncle, and would gladly
+attend his funeral. At the same time, the man brought custom to the
+tavern. If he left it, some of his cronies might leave with him.
+Whereupon the young woman remarked scornfully: "If you can stick it,
+I've nothing more to say." And then she had eyed him slowly from heel to
+head, as if taking stock of an animal not quite sound. Saint knew that
+his manhood had been challenged by a woman who was becoming
+indispensable to him.
+
+Uncle rose, tankard in hand. His smile was so disarming that Saint,
+probably, believed him to be harmless. Accordingly he scowled the more
+fiercely as Uncle slowly approached him. An expert of the prize ring,
+comparing the two men physically, would have said, off-hand, that age
+could never fight youth on equal terms. Saint was stoutly built, heavy
+in the shoulder, with good underpinning. He may have lacked two inches
+of Uncle's height.
+
+Uncle feigned nervousness, luring Saint on. Had the landlord been
+perfectly sober, he might have suspected guile. Whisky had inflamed his
+mind and paralysed his judgment.
+
+"Don't 'ee talk that way, Mr. Saint. I be old enough to be your father.
+And not the man I was."
+
+Saint exploded.
+
+"If you don't walk out, I'll kick you out."
+
+Uncle almost cooed at him.
+
+"What brave words to an old gaffer past sixty! And before ladies, too."
+
+The sly emphasis on "ladies" provoked a titter from a granfer warmed by
+hot ale.
+
+Saint sprang to the attack. Now, Uncle, the sly old campaigner, had
+foreseen this opening. He knew well enough the advantage of a first
+blow. He knew, also, that Saint, out of condition as he was, might end a
+fight at close quarters in thirty seconds. Within one minute, so Uncle
+reckoned, Saint would have lost fifty per cent of energy and endurance.
+With a gay laugh he dashed the ale he had so valiantly refrained from
+drinking in Saint's face.
+
+"That'll cool 'ee," said Uncle, as he side-stepped as gracefully as a
+dancing-master.
+
+Saint was half-blinded, but now well aware that Uncle meant business. He
+must "finish" him at once, inflict a "knock-out" blow. He charged again,
+head down, like an infuriated bull. Sober reflection might have warned
+him that Uncle's arms were longer than his. Uncle raised the tankard and
+brought it down hard upon a thick skull. Saint fell to the floor,
+stunned. The young woman screamed out:
+
+"You've killed him!"
+
+Uncle laughed pleasantly:
+
+"Not me. I only tapped 'un. Don't 'ee be afeard, my dear. He'll live to
+make 'ee miserable. I hopes as I ain't hurt this handsome tankard." He
+examined it. "No. 'Tis ale-tight yet. I sees a dent though. 'Twill
+serve, like rosemary, for remembrance. Ah-h-h! He be comin' to."
+
+Saint raised his head, but remained huddled up on the sanded floor,
+rubbing his head and staring at the grinning faces about him. Uncle
+addressed him with courtesy.
+
+"Willum Saint, I be a marciful man. There be many here as could testify
+and swear by the Book as you assaulted and batteried me, but I won't
+have the law on 'ee. More, never again will I call 'ee Saint Willum. For
+why?--your immortial soul be too lean. I means to call 'ee, after this
+memorable day, Mr. Sinner. And now, Mr. Sinner, I takes myself off to
+the _Pomfret Arms_, and my friends go wi' me."
+
+Three out of the five other men rose solemnly, and called for their
+reckoning. The two that remained might have done so had they possessed
+cash in their pockets.
+
+Uncle took off his hat to the young woman, and bowed politely:
+
+"Good-bye, miss. If he become too rampagious, do 'ee whisper 'tankard'
+to 'un."
+
+Uncle did not walk straight to the _Pomfret Arms_; he fetched a compass,
+calling upon Mrs. Yellam. He told his tale without embellishment. Susan
+threw back her head and laughed. Then she kissed her brother.
+
+"Habakkuk," she said solemnly, "'twas a gert victory for you, _and for
+me_, over Satan."
+
+Next day, by the luck of things, Saint met Uncle face to face in the
+village street.
+
+"You downed me last night, because I wasn't sober."
+
+"Drunk _and_ disorderly!" exclaimed Uncle, raising his voice so that
+others might hear. "What would Squire say, if so be as you came afore
+the Bench?"
+
+Saint was perfectly sober and smugly self-possessed.
+
+"You couldn't down me this morning."
+
+"I be willing to try," said Uncle, perceiving that he had room for
+side-stepping. "You takes your coat off and I takes off mine, and we
+goes at it, here and now, slam-bang."
+
+Saint declined this cordial invitation. He scowled at Uncle, and went
+his way.
+
+Next Sunday Mrs. Yellam's responses were half a second ahead of the
+congregation. On the Saturday Fancy had received a long letter from
+Alfred. He was out of the danger zone again, and in a rest camp with his
+men, who "groused" at "fatigues" imposed upon them unreasonably. Alfred
+reported himself sound of left arm, and, as usual, "in the pink."
+William Saint did not attend Divine Service, thinking, possibly, that a
+large strip of plaster across his head might distract the attention of
+the congregation. In this he was needlessly thoughtful, inasmuch as
+everybody in the parish knew what had happened in the sanded tap-room,
+and acclaimed Uncle as the true sire of a valorous son. Uncle sat in his
+pew, as upright as Mrs. Yellam, inviting inspection with an upward cock
+of one eyebrow, as much as to say:
+
+"Look at me, neighbours. Not a mark on me!"
+
+You may be sure that the Squire had the epic pat from the lips of
+Captain Davenant, to whom Uncle had recited it when shooting in the New
+Forest. More, the Captain made it clear to the Autocrat how insidiously
+Alfred Yellam had been undermined by "Mr. Sinner." Finally, it was
+decided between them that William Saint would serve his country to
+better advantage away from Nether-Applewhite, and the Squire, gravely
+affected by Susan Yellam's troubles, swore that he would personally see
+to it that Alfred's carrying business should be resurrected. On Monday
+morning, Mrs. Yellam, upon arrival at the Court, was informed that Sir
+Geoffrey wished to see her in his room. For a terrible moment, she
+feared that the Squire might be about to break bad news of Alfred. A
+glance at his jolly face reassured her.
+
+"Sit you down, Susan. Make yourself comfortable. What about a glass of
+port?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam associated port with funerals. She declined any liquid
+refreshment, very politely. The Squire stood upon the hearth-rug,
+beneath the portrait of his father, and thrust his hands in his
+breeches' pockets.
+
+"Now, Susan, where is Alfred's 'bus?"
+
+"In Salisbury, Sir Geoffrey."
+
+"Out of dry dock? Ready for the road--um?"
+
+"I believe so, Sir Geoffrey, but Willum Saint has the business; and I
+don't know where to turn for a man."
+
+"That's going to be my affair. I should have made it my affair, if you
+had come to me without my sending for you. Alfred has been treated
+abominably. All the facts never reached my ears till yesterday, when I
+heard about Uncle and the tankard."
+
+He laughed, and Susan laughed with him. The Squire waxed confidential.
+
+"Just between us, let it go no further, William Saint will be called
+up."
+
+"The Lard be praised! This be heartsome news, Sir Geoffrey. If you gets
+me a man, trade'll come back."
+
+"You rest easy. I repeat, all this is my affair. I'm still Squire of
+Nether-Applewhite. Have you seen my grandson lately?"
+
+"No, Sir Geoffrey."
+
+"You come along with me to the nursery, and we'll have a squint at him.
+He's a whopper."
+
+And thus the sun shone bright once more in Mrs. Yellam's heaven. The
+Squire proved even better than his word. What he said in private to
+William Saint was never known. Sir Geoffrey found, for Mrs. Yellam, a
+reliable driver, an ex-soldier discharged from the army but not
+disabled, with a merry eye and a persuasive tongue. Saint's 'bus went to
+the station, as before, not to Salisbury.
+
+You may think of this time as the St. Martin's Summer of Mrs. Yellam's
+life. The dull November days drifted by, bringing with them mist and
+rain and wind; the trees were stripped of their leaves; Nature sang her
+requiem for the dying year; but Pentecostal joys filled Mrs. Yellam's
+heart.
+
+And this Feast of Rejoicing affected Fancy and her child. The Yellam
+cottage became a heat-centre. From it radiated warming beams. Susan, at
+work in her kitchen, could hear Fancy's clear voice singing "Abide with
+Me."
+
+     Hold Thou Thy Cross before my closing eyes;
+     Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies:
+     Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
+     In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me!
+
+If it were only so, reflected Mrs. Yellam, how rich and happy life would
+be, with all its ups and downs. She remained obstinately convinced that
+she wanted the Lord to abide with her. It was He Who left her so
+mysteriously. And then, of course, Satan took the vacant place. She
+examined herself rigorously. She dealt justly with her neighbours; she
+loved mercy; she read her Bible each day. What more could she do? Really
+and truly, she demanded so little of Omnipotence--not wealth, not even
+health, for, at her age, she must expect aches and pains; just peace,
+only that, and Alfred.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+FOOL-WISDOM
+
+
+Fancy's approaching confinement aroused no apprehensions in the mind of
+Mrs. Yellam. She took it for granted that nothing untoward would happen.
+Probably, the doctor in attendance would make things appear more serious
+than they were. Deep down in her heart lay the conviction that doctors,
+in their own interests, pursed up lips and bent frowning brows over
+sick-beds, because when their patients pulled through the greater credit
+attached itself to them. Her own confinements had been reasonably easy,
+so she told Fancy.
+
+Both women wondered whether Alfred would get his Christmas leave and his
+Christmas present at the same time. That double event, however, lay upon
+the knees of the gods.
+
+Leave or no leave, Mrs. Yellam told herself that Alfred was safe till
+the Spring. Why this conviction came to her she did not explain. Had you
+asked her, she would have replied, probably, that the wounded boys at
+the Court affirmed nothing to be doing in mid-winter. The sight of
+William Saint in khaki nearly made her break into song. The banns of his
+approaching marriage to the young person behind the bar were called in
+Nether-Applewhite Church, none too soon, according to Jane Mucklow.
+Uncle was heard to whisper, "And sarve 'un right!" by neighbours in
+adjoining pews. He assured his cronies that Mr. Sinner's punishment was
+to come. Susan rejoiced, also, in the notable fact that
+Nether-Applewhite harboured no conscientious objectors. Ocknell, the
+next parish, was not so fortunate.
+
+In fine, the first half of December glided by swiftly and pleasantly.
+Alfred's business became firmly re-established, and, with Saint no
+longer competing, more remunerative than ever. Mrs. Yellam said to
+Fancy:
+
+"Your child, seemin'ly, may be rich."
+
+She refused to speak of the child as a son. But Fancy's conviction about
+that remained impregnable.
+
+"I ought to know, Mother."
+
+"Maybe. But you don't. Nobody knows."
+
+"Alfred wants him to be a girl."
+
+"Do he? I wonders why."
+
+"He said a little maid would traipse so nicely after you. I promised him
+to call her Lizzie. She'll be the next."
+
+"Lizzie! Ah-h-h! Alferd be a good son. Fancy his thinkin' o' that.
+Lizzie----!"
+
+She spoke the name almost under her breath. A moment later, she removed
+her spectacles, and wiped them. The two women were sitting in the
+kitchen by the hearth, after supper. A basket held the logs. The cradle
+was upstairs in Mrs. Yellam's room. In that room, despite Fancy's
+protests, Alfred's child would be born. In that room Susan Yellam's
+first baby had wailed his regret at finding himself in a wicked world.
+In that room her husband had died. Everything lay ready to hand; the
+monthly nurse lived only a quarter of a mile away; the doctor had been
+advised that he might be wanted at any minute.
+
+Fancy loved to sit over the fire, listening to the wind talking to the
+chimney, telling that stay-at-home the tale of many wanderings. She
+liked to make-believe that the winds were real persons, although she had
+never heard of Æolus and his rebellious prisoners. She hated to pick
+flowers because they must feel so unhappy out of their own garden. Of
+course, they died of loneliness in mid-Victorian vases. She held
+inviolate her faith in fairies, beneficent and malevolent. She assured
+Mrs. Yellam that Solomon could see pixies dancing in their rings. How
+else could you account for his stopping in the middle of a field and
+barking?
+
+Of her mother and the four Evangelists she said nothing.
+
+Uncle and she became great friends.
+
+Three days out of the week (as has been mentioned), from October to the
+end of January, Uncle served as "beater" to Captain Davenant, when that
+veteran went shooting in the New Forest. Returning home, about five,
+Uncle liked to wander into Mrs. Yellam's cottage and drink a cup of tea
+instead of marching up to the _Pomfret Arms_, where his supremacy as a
+talker and man of the world might be disputed by certain bagmen in that
+inn, which prided itself upon being "more class" than the _Sir John
+Barleycorn_. Fancy paid homage to Uncle, as the favourite brother of
+Mrs. Yellam, ministering to his love of creature comforts, making hot
+buttered toast and putting cream into his tea, which he never got at
+home. Whenever Jane happened to be "miffed" her husband tactically
+retreated to what he now termed "Fancy's rest camp." He found her alone
+there, because Mrs. Yellam was now on duty at Pomfret Court from two
+till seven. Fancy and Uncle would sit by the fire and talk.
+
+Between Uncle's house and the Yellam cottage stood a clump of firs, near
+the river. Each year, during the annual migration, ospreys, probably
+southward bound from Scotland, would roost for one night only in these
+firs. Uncle had watched them many a time. They would circle three times
+round the firs and then alight upon them. Always the young birds, that
+year's nestlings, would come first. The parent birds followed, perhaps
+two days later. The sense of direction, the triple circling round the
+same trees, on the part of young birds, who preceded their parents,
+filled Fancy with astonishment. Being urban, she delighted in Uncle's
+Arcadian lore. She asked him to explain this amazing performance.
+
+"Birds be wiser than we, my girl."
+
+Alfred had made the same remark about water-rats.
+
+"How do they find their way, Uncle?"
+
+"Ah-h-h! How does a young hound find his way back to kennels, when he be
+taken to a distant meet by train, to new country never seen afore? You
+answer me that."
+
+"I can't. Can you?"
+
+"I thinks I can. 'Tis fool-wisdom. Wimmenfolk has it, because they be
+nearer to the animals than we men."
+
+Fancy wondered whether this was to be taken as a compliment. Uncle
+continued:
+
+"Fool-wisdom comes from God A'mighty. We be told that He don't forget
+one sparrer. I never liked sparrers too well, because they interferes
+crool wi' the house-martins, pore lil' dears. Yas--God A'mighty guides
+they young ospreys. I've a notion that He'd guide us if so be as we
+weren't so set on guiding ourselves. That be the main trouble wi' my
+dear sister."
+
+Fancy opened her eyes wide.
+
+"What are you saying, Uncle?"
+
+"I be fool-wise, my girl. I sees that you be mazed. Fool-wisdom be what
+we read on in the Holy Book, the sart that God A'mighty gives to babes
+and sucklings. My dear sister be full o' man's wisdom, just so clever as
+a man can be. She takes credit to herself for every big onion in her
+garden."
+
+Fancy said slily:
+
+"But, Uncle, you took credit for George getting the Victoria Cross."
+
+"So I did. A sharp 'un you be, for sartain. 'Tis true. Where would pore
+Garge be if I hadn't begotten 'un? And 'twas my brave will as sent 'un
+to Salisbury to enlist. But I gives the Lard the credit for pickin' such
+a man as I be for Garge's father. And Garge's valorous deed was a
+marvellous miracle upsides wi' they young ospreys findin' their way to
+our clump o' firs."
+
+"You ought to be a preacher, Uncle."
+
+"Ah-h-h! 'Tis easy for me to preach, allers was; but practisin' be the
+devil. Me and Pa'son be o' the same mind about that. But how I be
+wanderin' from my text! We was talkin' of fool-wisdom and your dear
+mother-in-law."
+
+"She's my mother now."
+
+"Ay. And I bain't fit to black her boots when it comes to practisin'. I
+knows that. But she ain't got fool-wisdom, as I calls it."
+
+Fancy considered this attentively. Uncle puffed at his pipe, glancing at
+Fancy's pensive face. He saw that he had puzzled her, and pulled himself
+together for another effort.
+
+"'Tis like this. Susan be proud because she thinks as she walks wi' God
+A'mighty. She takes credit for that, pore soul! Now, I be proud and so
+humble as a bee when the Lard sees fit to walk wi' me. That be my
+fool-wisdom, Fancy."
+
+"I see."
+
+And she did. Uncle's naïve remarks were illuminating. She
+could look back, by the light of fool-wisdom, and sort out
+innumerable, half-forgotten trifles, unconsidered at the time, which
+corroborated, almost disconcertingly, this--what could she call it?
+Yes--vaingloriousness on the part of Mrs. Yellam. Another word, in
+every-day use amongst the "boys," bustled into her mind--"swank." She
+smiled. It seemed a wicked word to apply to such a majestic woman, and
+yet it was just right. Mrs. Yellam did "swank" whenever she talked of
+herself or Alfred. She had won first prize for the best village garden
+at the annual Flower Show, discontinued since the outbreak of war,
+because, so she told Fancy, she tended her vegetables herself. Alfred's
+robust health, his sobriety, his capacity for steady work, his
+churchgoing, his pleasant manners with neighbours--all these were
+feathers in Mrs. Yellam's cap, placed there by herself! She was set on
+guiding herself and others, admittedly a leader. Uncle was right. His
+dear sister did not walk humbly with the Lord. Hamlin's sermon had not
+been forgotten by Fancy. His son's death had made it an imperishable
+memory. And Mrs. Yellam, it will be recalled, had shrewdly suspected
+that the Parson had aimed a shaft or two at her. Had he? Could it be
+possible that this wonderful old woman's soul was lean? Naturally Fancy
+shrank from such a conclusion.
+
+To lighten her mind, and with the intention of extracting more
+fool-wisdom from Uncle, she said mischievously:
+
+"Uncle----?"
+
+"Yas, my dear----?"
+
+"What takes a man to the ale-house? Fool-wisdom?"
+
+Uncle threw back his handsome head and roared with laughter. But
+fool-wisdom told him that this was the right way to tackle a backslider.
+What a pity that Jane disdained indirect methods! He shook a long
+forefinger in a smiling face.
+
+"You lil' besom----! Now, if Alferd ever takes a notion to drink more
+ale than be strictly needful to slake a pleasant thirst, you poke just
+such fun at 'un, and smile at 'un, as you be smilin' at an old sinner
+this minute. My wife be a good, faithful 'ooman, but vartue wi' her be
+turned sourish, like that there clarety wine, the only liquor as never
+did lie easy on my good stomach. Maybe I married her latish in life. And
+cooks, from stewin' over fire, do seem to overbake their livers and
+lights. Anyways, hard looks drive a man to ale-house; smiles keep 'un at
+home. I admits to you, Fancy, but never a word to Jane, mind 'ee, that
+ale be my weakness. 'Twould be blasphemious to say that the Lard ever
+walked wi' me _to_ an ale-house, except on one very notable occasion,
+but 'tis a fact that in His Marcy He have walked wi' me _from_ the _Sir
+John Barleycorn_. And now you has it."
+
+"Tell me about the notable exception."
+
+"Ah-h-h! You knows. The Lard walked wi' me when I downscrambled Willum
+Saint. I gives He the credit. He put the notion into my head o' flingin'
+Willum's ale into Willum's face, and bashin' 'un wi' his own tankard. I
+tell 'ee that notion come to me bang from Kingdom Come. My own notion
+was different. I calkilated on a stand-up fight. Willum might ha' downed
+me, being so young and strong a man. And I tells 'ee more, a lil'
+secret, seein' as you has the trick o' squeezin' secrets out o' sinners:
+the Lard walks wi' me when I comes here to see you. And I be drinkin'
+less ale in consekence."
+
+With that he kissed Fancy and took his leave.
+
+Solomon jumped into the warm, cushioned arm-chair. But, instead of
+curling himself up, he walked three times round the chair, and then sat
+up, with his head on one side glancing interrogatively at Fancy, as much
+as to say:
+
+"If you want fool-wisdom, why not tap it at its source?"
+
+Fancy eyed him reflectively. All day, the dog had behaved strangely. He
+never left Fancy for a moment. But, till now, he had seemed disinclined
+for conversation. And he had hardly touched his dinner. Again and again
+he had walked round the kitchen, whining a little. Fancy, supposing that
+he wished to go outside, had opened the door, but he remained with her,
+staring up at her, as if he had some message to deliver. Finally, she
+jumped to the conclusion that the dog must be feeling unwell, or,
+possibly, cats lay heavy on his conscience.
+
+"What is it, Solomon?"
+
+He whined.
+
+"Got a pain, Solly?"
+
+He regarded her sorrowfully. Till that moment Fancy had been happy and
+light-hearted. Uncle had cheered her up. And his parting remark was
+uplifting and unmistakable. God had seen fit to use her, Fancy Yellam,
+as a humble instrument whereby Uncle's thirst for ale became less
+importunate. A warm glow suffused her small body.
+
+And now, suddenly, she felt chilled, uneasy, unhappy, merely because a
+dog gazed mournfully at her, as if he, the wicked little sinner, were
+grieving for her. Did he know that pain was coming to her inexorably? As
+the thought assailed her mind, so swiftly that she winced, Solomon's
+tail flickered. Not in joyousness. She divined that. In some uncanny
+fashion he was encouraging her to accept this thought of pain, to
+confront it valiantly, not to shrink from it.
+
+"Do you know, Sol?" she whispered.
+
+His tail flickered again. He leaped into her lap, and laid his head upon
+her bosom. She could feel his heart beating; her own heart beat with it.
+
+Was this another amazing proof of fool-wisdom?
+
+Peace came back to her. Humbly, she committed herself to the keeping of
+Omnipotence, thinking intently of her mother. Solomon never moved. She
+was intimately sensible that this dumb creature comforted her. She
+glanced into the shadows of the kitchen. Had her mother's face and
+figure formed themselves out of those shadows, she would not have been
+surprised or frightened. She expected to see her. The conviction stole
+slowly upon her that the mother stood near her, invisible, but a
+powerful protector. And from her would radiate hope and faith and love.
+She would be with her in her travailings....
+
+Presently, another thought stole upon her. As Mrs. Yellam said, Fancy
+had never seen her mother in the flesh. It seemed so cruel that she
+should have been taken at a moment when tiny lips were wailing for what
+she alone could give. From a child she had wanted her mother. To-night,
+for the first time, it flashed into her mind that, perhaps, her mother
+had wanted her--desperately. Just as she wanted her child. How bitter a
+disappointment it must be to forego the tender ministrations, the sweet
+services which only women know, and which, in their fool-wisdom, they
+count dearer than anything the world can bestow.
+
+If--if anything went wrong, she would join her mother....
+
+Solomon lay motionless, but his heart went on throbbing.
+
+Why?
+
+A last thought, the greatest, seemed to float direct from her mother's
+mind to hers. Alfred was facing death, daily, with a laugh, facing, too,
+the possibility of grinding pain. As a soldier's wife, she must try to
+be brave, like him....
+
+Solomon moved restlessly, and then sprang to the floor. He wagged his
+tail briskly, as he took up a commanding position near the door. Mrs.
+Yellam was approaching the cottage. If Fancy opened the door and looked
+out, she would not see her because it was dark. But she would not hear
+her, either. And if she called, Mrs. Yellam would not answer, being, as
+yet, too far away.
+
+But Solomon knew.
+
+Within five minutes, Susan Yellam entered, bringing with her an
+exhilarating atmosphere of keen, fresh air. Her cheeks were red; her
+eyes sparkled.
+
+"Frost be coming, and maybe snow. I likes to see God A'mighty's world
+white and clean come Christmastide."
+
+The old woman bustled about cheerfully, commanding Fancy to sit still.
+She had brought with her a fat hen-pheasant, a gift from the Squire to
+Alfred's wife.
+
+"Folks are very kind," said Fancy.
+
+"Ah, well, 'tis easy to be kind when we be happy. Captain Pomfret walked
+wi' one crutch to-day. And they be drinking champagne for dinner. 'Tis
+the work o' that Lunnon doctor, so they say, a very wonnerful chap wi'
+electrics, bridlin' the lightnin', so to speak. And they perfarms
+miracles wi' men's faces, manufacturin' noses and what-not just so easy
+as pats o' butter. Such fellers must be proud o' theirselves."
+
+"Maybe Mr. Hamlin'll return thanks in church, next Sunday."
+
+"More'n likely. I never thought o' that."
+
+"I wonder," said Fancy, "how it all comes to them, inventions, such as
+wireless and--and chloroform as takes away pain."
+
+Mrs. Yellam chided her, very pleasantly:
+
+"Now, don't 'ee flustrate yourself wi' thoughts o' chloryform. I allows
+that I can answer your question. Inventions comes to they as works hard
+for 'un. 'Tis hard work, and nothing else."
+
+"Uncle would call it--fool-wisdom."
+
+"Fool-wisdom?"
+
+Fancy explained. Mrs. Yellam listened attentively, shaking her head from
+time to time. Uncle's position, to-day, would be as financially sound as
+her own, had he worked hard at his calling, and spent less time on
+crack-brained speculations and less good money on ale. She said as much,
+derisively. Fancy said:
+
+"How does Solly know when you turn the corner by the mill?"
+
+"Dog's instinct."
+
+"Maybe 'tis the same thing."
+
+"Fiddle!"
+
+Fancy refrained from pressing the point, but something told her that
+Uncle was right, and his clever, practical sister wrong. One thing was
+delightfully certain. Happiness had made Mrs. Yellam kind. And it filled
+her with piety. She walked proudly with the Lord, carrying a high head.
+She had forgiven William Saint his trespasses, and expressed a trenchant
+conviction that Satan had removed his headquarters from
+Nether-Applewhite to Ocknell. And she was equally sure that Alfred would
+be home for Christmas, because her troubles had come in battalions at
+midsummer.
+
+"Turn and turn about be only fair," she told Fancy.
+
+Fancy said hesitatingly:
+
+"The cards told true before, didn't they?"
+
+"Ah-h-h! I don't pin my faith to they, child. I be weather-wise, not
+fool-wise. We has spells o' wet and spells o' dry. It be dry now, and
+likely to remain so, I reckons."
+
+Fancy nodded, quite willing to believe that the Yellam barometer would
+stay, for a long spell, at "Set Fair."
+
+After supper, when the kitchen was in perfect order, Mrs. Yellam sat
+knitting beside Fancy. Solomon lay at the feet of his mistress. The logs
+burned briskly, another evidence of coming frost. Sparks burst out of
+them, dazzling scintillations, miniature fireworks. Mrs. Yellam was
+impressed by this pyrotechnic display.
+
+"It minds me of when Master Lionel come of age. I hopes they logs'll
+burn like that when Alferd is sittin' here, wi' a baby on his knee."
+
+Mrs. Yellam appeared so satisfied with life in general that Fancy
+hesitated to disturb the peace, but impulse was too strong for her.
+
+"Solly acted very queer all day."
+
+"Did he now?"
+
+"Hardly touched his nice dinner."
+
+"Well, well, times he takes a notion to scrummage in dustheaps, the lil'
+scavenger! 'Tis the male in him, I reckons. And far-seein'. He do take a
+squint into the future, seemin'ly."
+
+Fancy stared at Mrs. Yellam, slightly startled.
+
+"He buries bones and beastliness all over my garden. I caught 'un wi' a
+cod's head, and cuffed his, I did."
+
+"I took the notion that he was worrying about--about me."
+
+"Did 'ee, now? Natural enough. You bide so ca'm as I be. Worry brings
+peevish children into this world. You sing a hymn, if you think it'll
+hearten you up. 'Onward, Christian Soldiers,' be my fav'rite."
+
+"I do love 'Abide with Me.'"
+
+"You sing what you've a mind to. You be near your time, and must please
+yourself. Singin' helped me, but it druv my pore man to the ale-house.
+So I quit hymns, for his sake."
+
+"Was Mr. Yellam with you when your first baby was born?"
+
+"My, no! What a queer lil' thing you be! He was carrier, wi' business to
+attend to. Men bain't wanted at such times."
+
+"I should like to have Alfred."
+
+"No, you wouldn't. Take that from me. I've a mind to give 'ee a sip o'
+currant wine."
+
+Fancy declined this, with many thanks. The talk became desultory, and
+died down. Fancy dozed off quietly. Mrs. Yellam laid down her knitting
+and gazed keenly at the pale face bent upon the thin bosom. _Spindlin'!_
+Her own word came back to her. She saw that a faint smile curved the
+girl's lips. Evidently she was dreaming happily. Of what? Solomon rose,
+stretched himself, and stood beside his mistress. He whined a little.
+Mrs. Yellam recalled what Fancy had said about his "acting queer."
+
+"She bain't too strong," she muttered.
+
+Solomon whined again and lay down.
+
+Mrs. Yellam's face hardened. The same thought that had assailed Fancy
+attacked her, burying fangs in her heart.
+
+If things went wrong----?
+
+Resolutely, she put this thought from her. God's ways might be
+mysterious, but surely, surely He would stand by this frail creature,
+and temper the wind to her. Even to ask Him to do so seemed impertinent.
+Prayer came to her lips and fluttered away. She closed them tightly. All
+would go well, because of those four graves in the churchyard. She had
+visited them on the previous Sunday. They were certainly a credit to
+her. She washed the marble cross upon Lizzie's grave twice a year, and
+planted flowers on each plot. Coming out of church, strangers would
+pause to look at the Yellam reservation. If they read the
+carefully-selected inscriptions, Mrs. Yellam would feel much uplifted.
+In her square, brass-cornered desk, lay a sealed paper containing
+instructions concerning her own funeral. A plain slab would tell other
+strangers the date of her birth and death, her name, and her
+destination. "Gone Home" was to be chiselled upon grey granite, and
+filled in with leaded letters. Death had never dismayed her. When her
+work was done, she would be called.
+
+Fancy woke up, still smiling.
+
+"You had a nice doze, dear. Pleasant dreams, too."
+
+"Yes," said Fancy. But she couldn't remember her dreams.
+
+As she got out of her chair to go upstairs, she said:
+
+"This has been a happy day, Mother. I must remember it. What is the day
+of the month?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam answered promptly:
+
+"It be the fifteenth of December. Only ten days to Christmas."
+
+Mrs. Yellam never forgot this date. Word came to her some days later. On
+the fifteenth of December, a night attack was made upon German trenches,
+an affair of small importance, not even mentioned in the papers. When
+the men returned to their dug-outs, Sergeant Yellam was
+reported--_Missing_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+MISSING!
+
+
+Everybody assured Mrs. Yellam that Alfred had been taken prisoner. Uncle
+was doubtful whether any nephew of his could be taken prisoner, but he
+did not say this before his sister. The Squire, good fellow, spent time
+and money over telegrams to the Colonel commanding Alfred's battalion.
+And the answer confirmed popular opinion that Alfred, by now, was in
+Germany, where prisoners of war--so Sir Geoffrey assured Mrs. Yellam,
+received more humane treatment. The dead and wounded, after the night
+attack, had been brought in. Alfred was not amongst them. And therefore
+a prisoner. His Colonel, without a word from Sir Geoffrey, expressed
+that as his positive belief.
+
+Fancy, very white and anxious, hugged such belief to her small bosom.
+She said to Mrs. Yellam:
+
+"Alfred will come back."
+
+Mrs. Yellam kissed her, muttering:
+
+"Yes, yes. You be a brave lil' 'ooman."
+
+But Susan Yellam was dissembling. Iron had entered her soul again, iron
+and ice. To Uncle and Solomon she admitted this.
+
+"He be dead, Habakkuk. I knows it. They Proosians 'd never take Alferd
+alive. He be dead, and so be I."
+
+Poor Uncle fell back upon fool-wisdom.
+
+"Now, Susan, in these high matters, the truth be revealed to simple
+minds, like Fancy's. Me and you, dear, be too clever. I've often thought
+that gert brains, like yours, be a crool burden in such times as these.
+You be too far-seein'. Fancy be wise as a bird. If she sticks to it as
+Alferd be comin' back, come back he will, whatever you thinks."
+
+But Mrs. Yellam refused to be comforted.
+
+Next Sunday her pew was empty. Many charitably assigned this to Fancy's
+condition. Hamlin and Uncle knew better. And they took counsel together.
+
+"Can anything be said or done, Uncle?" asked the Parson.
+
+Uncle answered wisely:
+
+"She be past man's help, sir. Me and you has seen this a-comin' from
+afar. The pore soul can guide herself so well as any 'ooman I knows, but
+she do hate to be guided. Allers, she walked wi' the Lard in health, but
+not in sickness. 'Tis wondersome, but it works t'other way about wi' me.
+In health I seems to wander from the Lard, do what I will."
+
+"I tried once before--and failed."
+
+"Ah-h-h! You be a faithful shepherd, Mr. Hamlin; we all knows that. If
+you ask my advice, sir----"
+
+"I do. I do."
+
+"Leave her in the Lard's Hands. None can deny that she be a faithful
+servant o' His. He'll take pity on the pore dear in His good time."
+
+Hamlin seldom asked for advice from his fellow-men. He nodded his head,
+shook Uncle's horny hand, and went back to his study.
+
+The great sacrifice demanded of him had strained his faith. Nobody would
+ever know that. For a few hours he had sat alone, stunned by sorrow. He
+told himself fiercely that he could have spared any one of his sons
+except Teddy. The worldly ambitions which this man had renounced for
+himself bloomed more vigorously for Teddy. He had all the qualities
+which carry a young man far on any road: robust health, excellent
+brains, untiring energy, and a kind heart. His jolly laugh, as Hamlin
+knew, had secured him advancement, quite apart from his ability. Others
+had ability. The happy combination of laughter and energy had fetched
+four hundred a year in the open market. And Hamlin knew, none better,
+what such men are worth to the world, what a stimulus a cheery word and
+smile may be to the weary and sad. Why had Teddy been taken?
+
+Ultimately, he answered that question.
+
+He must be wanted elsewhere. Hamlin held definite opinions about a
+future life. He believed that death involved little change. He believed,
+further, that the conflict between good and evil went on upon the Other
+Side, that souls expanded or diminished over there just as here. Upon
+that belief he had built up his philosophy of life. It explained and
+justified apparent injustices and inequalities very perplexing to him as
+a young man. He believed, also, that good or evil inspired all human
+endeavour. The clay was informed by the spirit. Great writers,
+influencing millions, were merely the mouthpiece, the megaphone, of
+invisible spirits, guardian angels, to use the homely nursery
+expression, who whispered their message to the vessel appointed to
+receive it. Nobody, for many years, had heard him praise
+enthusiastically an individual. He praised the work that each had been
+inspired to do. In Nether-Applewhite, there happened to be a village
+idiot, whose great lolling head and vacuous eyes excited terror in
+children and often revulsion in adults. And the man was past middle age,
+helpless and gibbering from birth. Hamlin never passed him without
+reflecting that death would release an imprisoned soul destined,
+perhaps, to an undreamed-of development hereafter, the greater because
+it had been denied expression on earth. And, inversely, when he met, as
+he did occasionally, men pre-eminent in science, or art, or industry, he
+seemed to see clearly the man standing sharply apart from his work,
+often a very ordinary person, undistinguished save for the amazing fact
+that he had been selected, out of millions, to accomplish something
+vital to the progress of the world.
+
+He had found Authority for this personal belief in the New Testament.
+
+Hamlin sat still by his fire and thought of Mrs. Yellam. He desired to
+help her with an intensity which few would have suspected. Her empty
+pew, as before, stood out in his mind as a vacuum which he abhorred. Not
+because he was a parson. Churchgoing, in one sense, the sense in which
+William Saint regarded it, touched his humour. To go to church because
+it was respectable and pleased the Squire, to mumble prayers, to
+preserve a smug deportment, and rattle coins into an offertory plate,
+approximated closely to comic opera! Mrs. Yellam attended church to
+worship her Maker. Her abstention from Divine Service indicated loss of
+faith, the most grievous loss that can be imposed upon human beings.
+Faith filled Mrs. Yellam's pew; faithlessness emptied it. And if she,
+the strong woman, the helper in so many good works, stayed away from
+God's House, what would be the effect on the faith of others who looked
+up to her as a pattern and example?
+
+His fighting instincts were strongly stirred. But Uncle was right. For
+the moment, Susan Yellam stood alone, beyond man's help.
+
+He went to see her as a friend. As before, she received him with perfect
+self-possession, answered his questions quietly, and assured him that
+her own health caused her no anxiety. Hamlin thought of a chapel
+standing by itself upon a high hill near Abbotsbury, in perfect
+condition without, stripped within, an empty and deserted temple.
+Presently Fancy came in, and Mrs. Yellam went out. After the first
+greeting, Fancy exclaimed eagerly:
+
+"I know that Alfred will come back. I feel it here."
+
+She touched her bosom.
+
+He perceived, with poignant regret, the ravages wrought by suspense. But
+this, he soon discovered, was not due to apprehension concerning
+herself. She was worrying because Alfred would not get enough to eat.
+She talked confidently of his escape from bondage. Alfred was a man of
+resource, quick to seize opportunity. Dozens had got through to Holland.
+Why not he?
+
+Then she spoke of the war. What did it all mean, this never-ending
+slaughter? Was God angry with the world?
+
+Hamlin felt more at ease with this softer specimen of womanhood, who had
+served him faithfully. He admitted frankly, despite the evidence of the
+Old Testament, that he could not conceive of Omnipotence as "angry."
+Then he appealed to her imagination, evoking out of his own hopes and
+hypotheses a new world of nations, linked together by a nobler and wider
+humanity, poorer in material things, richer in faith and charity. He
+sketched for her prehistoric man concerned only with self-preservation.
+He passed from this ape-man to his successor informed by love of his own
+family. From him again to the chief concerned with the welfare of his
+tribe. And thence to the monarch and his nation.
+
+"We must come, sooner or later, to Universal Brotherhood. That, I think,
+Fancy, may come sooner because of this war. The gain to those who are
+not yet born may be ten thousand times greater than our loss."
+
+Her pale cheeks flushed.
+
+"I'd like to think that." She paused, adding modestly: "Although my
+thoughts don't matter."
+
+"But they do," he hastened to say. "This war is forcing people to think,
+who have never thought before. Perhaps we preachers and teachers have
+been unwise in asking others to accept our thoughts, instead of
+encouraging them to think for themselves. Don't be afraid of thinking
+things out. And when it comes to matters of religion, of faith...."
+
+He paused, trying to find simple words, struck by the intensity of her
+glance, knowing that what he might say would be pondered over by a quick
+intelligence.
+
+"Yes, sir----?"
+
+"There would seem to be two kinds of faith, Fancy; the faith that falls
+like the dew from heaven upon some little children, a free gift from
+God; and the faith which we have to work for, and suffer for, and fight
+for with every fibre of our being. I have had to work for my faith; I
+have had to dig down and down till I came at last to some rock upon
+which I could stand. I could hardly bear the cruelty of these times, if
+I had not found that rock."
+
+"What is that rock, sir?"
+
+"A conviction that this life is only a part, a small part of a
+tremendous whole which our finite minds are unable to grasp. That
+conviction comes from experience. It is independent of what is called
+revealed religion, although it has been revealed by all religions,
+inasmuch as it must come from within to be of any real value and
+comfort. It must be worked for, as I say, and paid for. The reward, when
+that rock is reached, is very great."
+
+"What is it, sir?"
+
+"The peace that passes understanding. And now, Fancy, in the trial that
+awaits you, trust in that first faith of which I spoke, the faith that I
+am sure is yours. God knows what is best for us. We all try to make Him
+walk in our ways, instead of walking humbly in His."
+
+She said shyly: "Thank you, sir; you have made things easier for me."
+
+It was late when Hamlin left the Yellam cottage and bitterly cold. He
+walked to Pomfret Court, and found the Squire in his room. In that room
+hard words had passed between Squire and Parson. To-day they were
+friends, working together. And the marriage of their children did not
+adequately account for this. It was one of the unexpected results of the
+war.
+
+"Dinner in five-and-twenty minutes," said Sir Geoffrey. "I'm delighted to
+see you, my dear fellow."
+
+"I wish I could stop. I need your help."
+
+The Squire rang the bell. When the butler came, dinner was postponed a
+quarter of an hour. Another straw to indicate a change in domestic
+currents. Before the war, dinner at Pomfret Court had been regarded as a
+sacred function, never postponed merely because the Parson wanted a word
+with the Squire.
+
+"I want you to pull more strings," said Hamlin, after telling his story
+at some length. "You know swells at the Foreign Office. It must be
+possible to find out through some kind neutral at The Hague whether a
+prisoner of the name of Alfred Yellam was taken upon the night of the
+fifteenth. Very few prisoners have been taken lately; that would make
+the enquiry comparatively simple."
+
+"I'll draw that cover to-morrow morning."
+
+Hamlin thanked him and hurried away. The Squire was amazing. To travel
+to London in this bitter weather meant the sacrifice of what the genial
+Autocrat ranked high--comfort. He would go, like a terrier to a fox,
+straight to a Mandarin and bark at him, worry him, stick to him, till a
+pledge was extracted.
+
+He thought of the trains congested by Christmas travel, the lack of
+porters and taxis. Obviously, the Squire recked nothing of this in his
+hot desire to do a kind turn to a humble neighbour.
+
+Hamlin reflected that Christmas would be the cosier to the Autocrat
+after a cold excursion. He remembered hearing him say that he never
+appreciated his own fireside so much as after a bad day's hunting, when
+the wind blew chill from the north and hounds wouldn't run a yard.
+
+Thoughts of hunting distracted the Parson as he strode back to his
+lonely Vicarage. What a master passion it was in everybody! The Squire
+hunted foxes in all weathers, regardless of weather conditions. Nothing
+stopped him but a hard frost. His Parson hunted men and women, a more
+arduous chase, hounding them out of covers where dirt, ignorance,
+poverty and vice hid them from view. A hard frost, such as had settled
+on Susan Yellam, stopped him. Others hunted fame, money, position, just
+as ardently. And a hard frost, like this war, stopped them.
+
+When would the thaw set in for Mrs. Yellam?
+
+Upon Christmas Eve Fancy's ordeal began.
+
+Hamlin hoped and believed that tiny hands would melt the ice in an old
+woman's heart. Everybody knew that Susan Yellam loved children, and that
+her rather grim face inspired no terrors in them. She kept the large
+green bottle full of bull's-eyes, simply because it lured pattering feet
+to her door. If they trotted up too often, rebukes, not bull's-eyes,
+were forthcoming. A sure way to her favour, as little girls soon
+discovered, was to ask for a flower out of the garden. Farseeing women,
+over-busy on washing-days, popped torn pinafores onto their toddlers,
+knowing that Mrs. Yellam would be sure to take her needle and repair the
+damage. She could always be called upon to sit up with a sick child,
+provided--_bien entendu_--that she was permitted to administer her own
+simple medicines. Grateful mothers, with an eye upon further favours,
+would say to Mrs. Yellam in the presence of neighbours:
+
+"Susan Yellam saved my Daisy's life."
+
+And then Mrs. Yellam would nod majestically, accepting such artful
+homage as her just due.
+
+To Mrs. Yellam's great relief, Fancy suffered less than she had feared
+and expected. Nature was kind to this soft-boned little woman, and
+chloroform assuaged the fiercer pangs. But the baby seemed loath to
+enter so cold a world. There were long and exasperating intermittencies,
+which Fancy endured very patiently. Throughout these periods, when Fancy
+wished to talk about Alfred, Mrs. Yellam dissembled. She even went so
+far, in her eagerness to please and distract the patient, that she
+accepted the sex of the tardy infant, speaking of it as "him," to
+Fancy's great gratification.
+
+Finally, "He" was born at two o'clock upon Christmas Day.
+
+And, alack! the cards had not told true. _He_ was a _She_.
+
+Fancy did not know this for some time. Too exhausted to ask questions,
+she lay silent and still, a faint smile upon her white face, till she
+dozed off into a dreamless sleep.
+
+In the parlour downstairs, where a fire had been lighted in the doctor's
+honour, Mrs. Yellam received another blow. There had been no
+complications in the case; the baby was perfectly formed and normal in
+every way. Nevertheless, the doctor looked worried and refused such
+refreshment as had been provided. Obviously, too, he was in a hurry to
+be gone, but he lingered.
+
+"She is very weak," he said, in a low, impressive voice.
+
+"That's natural."
+
+"Keep her as quiet as possible. I shall return about ten. The nurse has
+my instructions. Great lack of vitality is indicated. Needless to say,
+there is no question of her nursing the child. You are a strong,
+sensible woman, Mrs. Yellam, and able to hide any anxiety you may feel
+from the patient."
+
+The poor heart, just beginning to thaw, felt an icy hand closing about
+it.
+
+"I know how to behave," she muttered.
+
+"I must prepare you for a possible change--not for the better."
+
+"Yes."
+
+She spoke so calmly, that the doctor glanced at her keenly. Was she
+indifferent? It might be so. Relations, as he well knew, were often
+strained between elderly women of strong character and their sons'
+wives. He knew that Alfred had been reported missing. The monthly nurse
+might be regarded as a professional, like himself, willing and able to
+do her duty. More than this might be required. He reflected swiftly that
+he must make the situation even plainer to this somewhat hard-faced,
+hard-eyed woman.
+
+"She might sink from anæmia, Mrs. Yellam."
+
+"I understand, sir."
+
+He slipped on his heavy coat, picked up hat and gloves and turned to
+leave the room. His motor was gently purring outside. Mrs. Yellam prided
+herself upon her manners. But she never moved to open the door, till the
+doctor had his hand upon it.
+
+"Sir----?"
+
+"Yes?"
+
+She approached him. Her face remained calm, but he saw that her strong,
+capable hands were twitching. Her voice, too, quavered a little.
+
+"She be very dear to me, so dear that I be ready to fight for her life
+harder than I would for my own. That's all."
+
+The doctor, ashamed of too hasty conclusions, took both her hands in
+his.
+
+"That is much," he said gravely; "and it may make all the difference.
+Good-night, Mrs. Yellam."
+
+"Good-morning, sir," she admonished him.
+
+Left alone, she sat down, palsied by despair.
+
+And this was Christmas Day!
+
+Upon the table, near the window, the big Bible caught her eye. She
+stared at it, thinking of the page upon which, soon, she might be called
+upon to make three entries--two deaths and one birth. Heavy
+antimacassars embellished the horsehair-covered sofa and the armchairs.
+Mrs. Yellam rose up, snatched three antimacassars from their
+abiding-place and covered the Bible with them. Then she sat down again,
+looking about her, glaring at the familiar objects, so eloquent of the
+past. Upon each side of a large mirror, with its gilt frame protected by
+muslin from flies that had never dared to enter the room, hung two
+enlarged photographs of herself and her husband, taken some
+five-and-twenty years ago. They seemed to stare unblushingly and
+aggressively at her, as if they were rude strangers overbrimming with
+self-importance, smug with prosperity.
+
+"Fools," said Mrs. Yellam, scornfully.
+
+She looked at the other photographs, each in turn, portraits of the
+children who lay in the churchyard.
+
+"You be the lucky ones," she said, in the same derisive tone.
+
+There were many photographs of Alfred in all stages of development:
+Alfred sucking his thumb with an expression upon his year-old
+countenance as if he were thinking regretfully of something more
+nourishing; Alfred in a much be-ribanded frock; Alfred in
+knickerbockers; Alfred in a kilt; Alfred in trowsers, evidently on good
+terms with himself and all the world; Alfred as he appeared in his
+Sunday best, about to take the air with an audacious parlourmaid; and,
+lastly, Alfred in khaki and Fancy, arm in crook.
+
+She glanced hastily at other photographs, of Sir Geoffrey and Lady
+Pomfret and Master Lionel. They smiled so pleasantly that she frowned.
+How dared they smile?
+
+She was not needed yet upstairs. So she sat on in the gate of her
+sorrows, alone in the valley of Achor.
+
+She heard Solomon scratching at the door. She had left him asleep in his
+basket, always placed each night by the kitchen hearth. Mrs. Yellam let
+the dog scratch, but when he began whining she let him in, because Fancy
+might be disturbed, not because she wanted her dog.
+
+Solomon looked at her, and knew.
+
+He governed himself accordingly. Mrs. Yellam had returned to her chair.
+Solomon lay down at her feet. When she wanted to talk to him, she would
+do so. He kept one ear cocked for the first word.
+
+During twenty minutes no word was said. The nurse was in charge of Fancy
+and the baby. Mrs. Yellam had looked forward to assisting at these first
+rites. The expected pleasure had turned into a grinding pain.
+
+Fancy was going, drifting out of life. Probably her baby would not
+survive her many days. But she, the old woman, would remain. She gazed
+down the long perspective of the years to come, cold, dull days without
+one gleam of sunshine, full of inevitable pain.
+
+"I can't bear it," she said aloud. "It be too much for me."
+
+Solomon heard. He knew, of course, that the long-awaited words were not
+addressed to him, but they sounded a clarion note of distress.
+
+He laid his head against her knee.
+
+She looked at him, meeting his clear young eyes. They seemed to be full
+of interrogation.
+
+"If you want to talk, why not talk to me instead of to yourself?"
+
+She patted his head, and let her hand rest upon it. According to Uncle,
+fool-wisdom in dogs warned them of impending disaster. Mrs. Yellam knew
+that Solomon had behaved strangely upon the fifteenth of December. Uncle
+had drawn conclusions from this which he shared with Fancy and his
+sister. If fool-wisdom on the part of dogs could be interpreted by man,
+and he held that he was the man to do it, why, then, the fact of Solomon
+acting "queer" during the day of the fifteenth surely indicated
+fore-knowledge of Alfred's danger. But the attack had taken place at
+night. And the dog had exhibited no "queerness" after sundown. Fancy had
+been much impressed. In his heart, however, Uncle could not envisage
+Alfred as a prisoner. And we know that Mrs. Yellam shared this view. At
+the same time, with her loss of faith in the mercy of Omnipotence, and
+filling the vacuum which Hamlin so abhorred, came the old craving to
+clutch at "signs." It is quite likely that if the cards had "told true,"
+and if a boy were now lying in the cradle upstairs, that Mrs. Yellam
+would have fought despair more valiantly. She might have persuaded
+herself that Fancy would "pull through" and that Alfred would come back.
+
+At this moment she was at a low ebb mentally, although physically able
+to confront any emergency. Despair destroys _morale_, as soldiers know,
+and, paralysing action, heightens sensation. Mrs. Yellam's overwrought
+brain refused to function normally.
+
+Solomon, she reflected, was not acting "queer."
+
+If Uncle were right----! If fool-wisdom could be trusted----!
+
+She asked Solomon a question.
+
+"How be you feeling, my dog?"
+
+Solomon left her tired mind in no doubt on that point. He wagged his
+tail, wriggling convulsively, ready to bark with any encouragement.
+
+"Shush-h-h! Don't 'ee bark, till I gives leave. What do 'ee think about
+Fancy? Be she so bad as Doctor makes out?"
+
+Solomon tried to lick her hand.
+
+"That bain't an answer, Solly."
+
+He wagged his tail.
+
+Astounding as it may seem, this comforted Mrs. Yellam. She went
+upstairs, peeped into her former room, perceived that Fancy was asleep,
+and said to the nurse:
+
+"She be in a be-utiful sleep. Let's see the baby."
+
+The two women looked at the baby, and agreed that it was a fine
+specimen. Mrs. Yellam said impressively:
+
+"Pore dear soul! She thinks it a He. Maybe 'twill be best not to
+undeceive her."
+
+"She'll find out, Mrs. Yellam."
+
+"Ah-h-h! A crool shock. I allows that it be my duty to prepare her."
+
+"She's low," said the nurse, in a professional tone. Mrs. Yellam knew
+that the doctor, before leaving, had given the nurse instructions. The
+nurse, however, made light of apprehension, saying incisively:
+
+"We'll pull her through, Mrs. Yellam. Nothing needed but constant care
+for the first few days. Doctors always scare the gizzards out of us
+because they think that we won't be careful unless they do."
+
+This was comforting. After more talk, Mrs. Yellam prevailed upon the
+nurse to lie down. She proposed to sit by Fancy. The baby could be
+trusted to be quiet, being a She, and, seemingly, blessed with a
+pleasant temper.
+
+Fancy still slept.
+
+Mrs. Yellam took the chair by the bedside. If nothing but care and
+vigilance were needed, they should be forthcoming. She vowed to herself
+that she would fight, tooth and nail, for this life, neglect no
+precaution, run no risk. Physically, she braced herself for the combat.
+Long ago, she had fought for the life of a child--and won! Doctor and
+mother had despaired. It was a case of pneumonia. Hour after hour Mrs.
+Yellam had applied hot cloths to the child's breast. And she had willed
+fiercely that the child should live. Her strong will _had_ saved it.
+Everybody admitted that, even the doctor.
+
+Fancy slept for some hours. She awoke refreshed, free from pain, but
+pitifully feeble. After obediently swallowing some food, she asked to
+see the "boy."
+
+"All in good time," said Mrs. Yellam blandly.
+
+"But I may drop off to sleep again."
+
+"And a very good thing, too. The baby is asleep."
+
+"Has he blue eyes?"
+
+"Baby's eyes be allers blue at first."
+
+"Is he like Alfred?"
+
+"The living image. Now, don't 'ee talk."
+
+"If you bring him to me, I'll be ever so quiet."
+
+"I'll bring the child directly minute. 'Tis a lil' beauty, and a real
+credit to 'ee. Alferd'll be tickled to death. Unbeknownst to yourself,
+dear, you bore him what he wanted, and what I wanted. Now, I'll bring
+her in."
+
+"Her----!"
+
+Fancy closed her eyes. Mrs. Yellam watched her anxiously. She saw two
+tears trickle down the disappointed mother's cheeks. But she was
+smiling, quick to see the joke against herself.
+
+She gave a little laugh, an attenuated sound, but the genuine article.
+
+"Let's see her, Mother."
+
+The Beauty was brought in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+SUSPENSE
+
+
+Sir Geoffrey returned home on Saturday, the 23rd, having achieved his
+purpose. From The Hague, within twenty-four hours, discreet enquiries
+would be made concerning Sergeant Yellam. But the answer might be
+delayed a week.
+
+On Sunday and on Christmas Day Mrs. Yellam's pew was empty, but
+everybody knew that she was in attendance upon Fancy.
+
+Hamlin preached what Uncle called a "very upliftin'" discourse, and
+Uncle made it his business to drop down to the Yellam cottage during the
+afternoon to learn how Fancy fared and to give his sister a synopsis of
+the morning's sermon. By the luck of things, the nurse had just got up,
+and was able to sit with Fancy, whilst Uncle talked with Susan in the
+kitchen.
+
+"She be low, Habakkuk, but I be fighting for her. Oh, me! there's so
+little of her. And no milk for the baby."
+
+"Lard preserve her dear life!"
+
+Susan frowned.
+
+"'Tis milk that be wanted."
+
+"You be right. Bottle-babies suffer crool wi' colic."
+
+"Not if I wash the bottles. Fancy have chosen the names."
+
+"Ah-h-h! Susan be one of 'em; I'll lay a crown-piece on that."
+
+"You'd lose your money. Lizzie Alfreda be the name."
+
+Uncle considered this, and commended the choice. Then he squared his
+shoulders and inflated his big chest.
+
+"You missed a rare treat this marning, Susan."
+
+"Did I?"
+
+She spoke with indifference. Uncle believed in "gentling" refractory
+horses and women. Conviction had descended upon him during the sermon
+that he might be the Lord's instrument to lead Susan Yellam back to her
+pew.
+
+"Pa'son preached about the Babe of Bethlehem, as was right and proper,
+but I makes bold to say as he was thinking of 'ee, Susan, and of Lizzie
+Alfreda, bless 'un."
+
+Mrs. Yellam felt strangely bored. But she knew that it was hopeless to
+try to stop Uncle. What did it matter what any parson said? She was
+wondering whether she could apply for milk to Mr. Fishpingle, at the
+Home Farm. Village cows, grazing by the roadside, might pick up any
+noxious weed.
+
+Uncle continued solemnly:
+
+"Me and Pa'son sees eye to eye about babes. And times, when he do drop
+out o' sky and walks the green earth with mortial men, I feel sure that
+fool-wisdom be his as 'tis mine. We sucked 'un in wi' mother's milk."
+
+Susan said abruptly:
+
+"I've a notion, Habakkuk, that the milk from they Freesian-Holsteen cows
+bain't too rich for a baby's stomach."
+
+Uncle stared at her, anxiously. With difficulty, he assimilated her
+thoughts, abandoning, for the moment, his own.
+
+"Quantity they gives, Susan, not quality. If I was lookin' after lil'
+Lizzie Alfreda, dang me, if I wouldn't give 'un pure cream."
+
+"I'll be bound you would. Or old ale."
+
+She smiled grimly. Uncle really thought that the thaw had set in. He
+continued joyously:
+
+"You listen to me, Susan; I've an upliftin' message for 'ee, and it
+consarns what your thoughts be dwellin' on--the baby upstairs. Pa'son
+made that plain this marning to us old sticks. The Babe of Bethlehem
+brought good cheer and peace to a wicked world ten thousand years ago,
+and the peace o' this world, seemin'ly, lies wi' the little 'uns. And we
+be bound to take extry good care o' they. I tell 'ee, Pa'son talked so
+warm about babes that I felt it in me to raise another family."
+
+"On pure cream?" asked Susan. But, at last, he had challenged her
+attention.
+
+"Ah-h-h! You has your joke. But babes be goin' to be our salvation. 'Tis
+a brave, true notion. What makes a pack o' hounds, Susan? The young
+drafts. If they be lackin' in bone and blood, they turns out skirters,
+and presently the pack be streamin' all over country, runnin' riot,
+chasin' everything and catchin' nothing. And so, old girl, when you sets
+your gert mind on what milk to give lil' Lizzie, you be sarvin' the Lard
+and your country."
+
+Encouraged by Susan's softer expression, Uncle went on, embroidering his
+theme with pardonable exaggeration, setting forth prodigious statistics.
+Millions of babes died for lack of proper care, millions survived
+infancy to become rickety, misformed, wretched children. And the war was
+going to change all this. A nation bled white of its men must make the
+care of children its first and paramount consideration. When he had
+finished, Susan was so impressed that she said commandingly:
+
+"'Tis true. And your duty be plain, Habakkuk."
+
+"Meanin', Susan,----?"
+
+"You step up so brisk as may be to Home Farm. You see Mr. Fishpingle.
+You tell 'un that my gran'child needs pure milk, and, if you don't get
+it, your powers o' speech bain't what you crack 'em up to be."
+
+"Come wi' me, Susan. 'Twill blow some cobwebs out of 'ee."
+
+"No; I sets in this house till----"
+
+"Till when, you broody old hen?"
+
+"Till Fancy be better."
+
+After some protest, Uncle went his way alone, but he whistled as he
+strode along, the jolly optimist. Next Sunday he would see Susan in her
+pew. Soon there would be a christening, and word would come from Alfred.
+Uncle now shared with the Squire the conviction that Alfred, probably
+rushing ahead of his men, had been surrounded by Proosians and
+overpowered.
+
+Upon the Tuesday, the Squire received a telegram from London, which he
+shewed to his wife:
+
+"Yellam not a prisoner."
+
+The telegram was signed by one of the most honoured names in England.
+
+Lady Pomfret sighed. The Squire fussed and fumed, detesting mystery.
+
+"What does it mean, Mary? If he isn't a prisoner, where the dooce is he?
+I have his Colonel's word for it that all the dead and wounded were
+brought in. This telegram is equally reliable. I ask you, where is
+Alfred Yellam?"
+
+"Shell-shock affects some of them very strangely."
+
+"What d'ye mean by that, my dear?"
+
+"You remember John Boyce?"
+
+The Squire was not likely to forget John Boyce, one of the quietest,
+gentlest, and pluckiest of the many wounded men who had passed through
+Pomfret Court. He had been a sufferer from shell-shock and gas, but
+otherwise sound of limb. One morning, as the Squire was lathering his
+face, word came to him that John Boyce had gone mad. Without pausing to
+remove the lather, wearing pyjamas and slippers, the Squire had rushed
+out of his dressing-room, downstairs, and into a corridor, where Boyce
+stood at bay, with a valiant V. A. D. in front of him. He had escaped
+from the ward, and happened to be close to Lionel's sitting-room. Into
+this room the Squire led Boyce, trying to calm him down. The poor fellow
+was possessed of suicidal mania. He had lost his chums and his health.
+He demanded a rifle and permission to go into the garden and "end it."
+It was piteous to hear him. As yet he had exhibited no violence. But in
+Lionel's room, where swords were hanging on the wall, Boyce, with his
+congested eyes on the naked steel, struggled desperately to get hold of
+a sword. The Squire was a very powerful man, and Boyce undersized, but
+insanity nearly mastered sanity. Suddenly, Boyce's body relaxed. All
+violence went out of him. Soon he went back to the saloon, quite himself
+again. Later, he was taken to Netley Hospital, where he recovered
+completely.
+
+Lady Pomfret said slowly:
+
+"Just between ourselves, Geoffrey, is it possible that poor Alfred,
+slightly wounded in the head, perhaps, is wandering somewhere in
+France?"
+
+The Squire opened his mouth.
+
+"My dear Mary, are you hinting at--desertion?"
+
+"If he were not himself, like John Boyce?"
+
+The Squire had to admit that this was possible. Alfred must be
+somewhere. Upon him would be his identification-disk. The number of this
+had been sent to The Hague.
+
+"I must see Hamlin."
+
+He did. Hamlin told him that Fancy was fluttering between life and
+death. Under the circumstances, it might be expedient to say nothing
+about the telegram. To this the Squire warmly agreed. Nobody knew what
+was in the telegram, except Lady Pomfret and themselves. Nobody would
+know till Fancy had turned the corner, one way or t'other, poor little
+dear!
+
+Within twenty-four hours all Nether-Applewhite knew.
+
+Somebody at the telegraph-office must have babbled.
+
+What followed may be imagined. Dick told Tom, and Tom told Harry, till
+verisimilitude--to quote Gilbert--attached itself to an otherwise bald
+and unconvincing narrative. Ultimately, the tale reached the ears of
+Uncle. Alfred Yellam was a deserter--such a deduction from the telegram
+might be considered crude, but on that very account likely to be gobbled
+by gaffers--with a price set upon him, alive or dead. King Garge on his
+throne knew it.
+
+Poor Uncle became distraught. If it were true, he could never carry a
+high head again. Stoutly he refused to believe it, breathing strange
+oaths and threatening violence to all and sundry. If such a wicked lie
+reached Fancy's ears, it would kill her. He strode into the forest to
+cool himself. Could he face his fellow-men in church? He beheld two
+empty pews, and gnashed his teeth.
+
+Returning from the forest, somewhat easier in mind, he decided that
+Susan must be warned. Very wisely he went to Hamlin first, who confirmed
+the telegram, agreeing with Uncle that Mrs. Yellam should be told the
+truth and what it had been twisted into by wagging tongues. Sensible of
+Uncle's excitement and indignation, he said quietly:
+
+"You must rise above this gossip. It is not unnatural and not
+ill-natured."
+
+"I begs your pardon, sir?"
+
+"Sir Geoffrey says that Alfred must be somewhere. For my part, I prefer
+to think of him in the care, perhaps, of some friendly French peasant,
+tending a man who may not remember his own name."
+
+"That be a mort o' comfort. Twice in my long life, I minds forgetting my
+own name. I took a notion that I were the village idiot. Bad ale's
+tricksy stuff. But desartion be a tarr'ble word."
+
+Hamlin clapped him hard on the shoulder.
+
+"Nobody who knows Alfred, or his mother, or you, would credit such a
+monstrous perversion of the truth."
+
+Uncle, much heartened, betook himself to his sister's cottage, where the
+surprise of his life awaited him. Susan literally jumped at this new
+hypothesis. She burst into excited speech.
+
+"If Squire thinks that, 'tis so. Parson be a wonnerful man, but, as you
+says, Habakkuk, sky-high above we. Squire be clay, a gert human bein'
+wise wi' the wisdom that I understands. If he holds that my Alferd be
+wanderin', pore dear, in France, 'tis so. I feels a different 'ooman
+to-night. And Fancy be better, too, wi' some sart o' appetite for her
+victuals. I be fightin' hard for her life, Habakkuk, and I believes
+to-night that all will be well. 'Tis queer, Fancy keeps on a-sayin' to
+me: 'Alferd'll come back.'"
+
+"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. Pa'son be prayin' in church for Alferd.
+'Twould seem more respectful-like if you jined in wi' your loud voice."
+
+At once Mrs. Yellam's face hardened.
+
+"I bide at home till Alferd comes back."
+
+"Ah-h-h! You be set as never was on guidin' yourself, Susan. Now, what
+about tellin' Fancy?"
+
+"I tells her the moment you be gone. 'Twill perk her up, better'n
+ginger-brandy. And what do I keer what they says in village? Let 'un
+talk. Squire be right. Alferd must be somewheres."
+
+Fancy was told within the hour. It will never be known whether the news
+affected her for good or ill. Mrs. Yellam lacked imagination. Fancy, we
+may believe, conjured up a lamentable picture of her Alfred, bereft of
+his wits, wandering in a strange land, homeless and half-starving, at
+the mercy of the elements in mid-winter. But she repeated the main
+clause in her creed:
+
+"Alfred'll come back."
+
+Napoleon has assured us that repetition is the greatest figure of
+rhetoric. The stone is worn away by the ever-falling drop of water.
+Fancy's reiterated phrase fell persistently upon the ice in Susan
+Yellam's heart and melted some of it, not all.
+
+Upon the Thursday morning the Squire received a letter from the Colonel
+commanding Sergeant Yellam's battalion. He read it to Lady Pomfret.
+
+     "My dear Sir:
+
+     "With deep regret I have to inform you of the death of
+     Sergeant Alfred Yellam upon the night of the fifteenth of
+     December. All the facts have come to light, beyond dispute.
+     One of our wounded men has been lying unconscious in our
+     receiving hospital. Last night he became conscious. It seems
+     that Yellam was close to him when a shell from a trench
+     howitzer burst literally upon poor Yellam. According to the
+     evidence of the wounded man Yellam disappeared. That was the
+     last indelible impression of the only witness, who was
+     struck by a splinter from the same shell, and lost
+     consciousness immediately afterwards.
+
+     "Sergeant Yellam had earned the affection and confidence of
+     all ranks. He was the type of man we value most, cool in
+     danger, modest at all times, cheerful, energetic and
+     capable. Peace be with him!
+
+                   "Yours faithfully,
+                                  "Courtenay Tring.
+
+     "P. S.--The official communication will reach Sergeant
+     Yellam's widow in due course. This letter will precede it,
+     and I leave it to your discretion what to do."
+
+"What shall we do?" groaned the Squire.
+
+Before telling the news to anybody else, Sir Geoffrey walked to the
+Vicarage. Hamlin read the letter.
+
+"Susan Yellam must be told," he said slowly. "She can intercept the
+official communication. Such news would kill Fancy."
+
+"Who will tell Susan?"
+
+"I will take the letter to her."
+
+The Squire looked at his face. He wondered why Hamlin was so affected.
+The Parson had sat down, as if he had received a personal blow. He
+rested his austere face upon his hand, thinking not of the young wife,
+so full of faith and courage, but of the old woman. Sir Geoffrey said
+impulsively:
+
+"I wish that you could be spared this, Hamlin."
+
+"So do I."
+
+"You might let Jane Mucklow do it, or Uncle."
+
+"Susan Yellam is my parishioner. God's hand lies heavy on her--how heavy
+I am unable to determine. I have never felt, Pomfret, so conscious of my
+disabilities, of anæmic faith in such cases as this."
+
+The Squire stood confounded.
+
+"I wish I had your faith, Hamlin."
+
+"What is faith?" asked Hamlin, almost fiercely. "Is it merely a belief
+that satisfies and helps oneself? The faith that burned in the Apostles
+was more than that. It saved others. Virtue, at a touch, went out of the
+faithful into the faithless. If I could touch this poor old woman----!"
+
+"You will," said the Squire, with assurance.
+
+"No. And that is why I wish that I could be spared another--failure."
+
+Soon afterwards he left the Vicarage, and, passing the church, paused a
+moment. He went in and stood near the Font, staring at the Christmas
+decorations and then at the Pomfret achievements emblazoned upon many of
+the windows. The decorations served to remind the smallest child in his
+congregation that another Child had been born into the world; the
+achievements reminded the more sophisticated of the Pomfrets who had
+died. The Child had been born to save others; the Pomfrets, many of them
+worthy, God-fearing persons, had been mainly concerned in preserving
+their own bodies and souls.
+
+"He saved others; Himself He cannot save."
+
+The wonderful line came into his mind, as his thoughts dwelt upon the
+millions of seemingly righteous, respectable men and women bent on
+saving their own souls, with but little regard for the souls of others.
+The Salvation Army, so derided and condemned by Church and State when he
+was a boy, had accomplished work which could not be ignored by priest
+and prelate, work undertaken by labourers with no outshining
+qualifications except faith in their ability to convince others, others
+as humble in condition as themselves, who stood, for the most part,
+beyond the pale of organised charity and richly-endowed religious
+denominations.
+
+Did this war, in relation to such thoughts, assume a new significance?
+Could regeneration, reconstruction come from below, from the masses, for
+example, out of which General Booth had enlisted his soldiers? Would a
+privilege, the noblest in the world, the sacrosanct prerogative to touch
+others to finer issues, emanate from the unprivileged? Hamlin could not
+answer the question. Or, as seemed more likely, would light shine from
+above, from a purified aristocracy, purged of self-interest by
+sacrifice, proud and eager to remove intolerable burdens from their less
+fortunate fellow-men? Or, a happier hypothesis than either, would the
+complex problem be solved by co-operation of masses and classes made one
+by sorrow and suffering, born anew through blood and tears? It might
+well be so.
+
+He left the church, and walked through the village. Much rain had
+fallen. He noticed that the Avon was swollen, and ready to overflow its
+banks. The wind blew cold upon his cheeks. The sun moved behind heavy
+clouds ready to discharge vast accumulations of moisture. In short, a
+raw, drizzling day, one of the last of an unhappy year.
+
+When Hamlin reached the cottage, a small girl, who came in during the
+morning to do house-work, the scrubbing and cleaning so dear to Susan,
+told the Parson that Mrs. Yellam was upstairs. She believed that Mrs.
+Alfred had passed a nice night. The baby was doing "lovely."
+
+Susan appeared within a minute. A glance at Hamlin's face was enough for
+her. In silence he took her hand and pressed it.
+
+"You has news of Alferd, sir?"
+
+Her voice was perfectly calm, calmer than his.
+
+"I have a letter from his Commanding Officer. Sit down, and read it."
+
+They were alone in the parlour. The antimacassars had been taken from
+the big Bible and replaced. But no fire burned in the grate. To Hamlin
+the room stood for all that he detested and assailed in English life and
+character. In its humble way, it positively exuded pretension. The
+carpet, a crudely-coloured body Brussels, the ornaments on the
+mantel-shelf, the enlarged photographs, the horse-hair and mahogany
+furniture, the prim bookcase, glazed and glaringly varnished,
+imprisoning, under lock and key, books that nobody read or could read,
+the mirror, the velveteen curtains with imitation lace under-curtains,
+all had been bought to impress neighbours! It was pathetic to reflect
+that Mrs. Yellam thought this hideous parlour a thing of beauty, whereas
+her kitchen, a joy to behold, was merely regarded as utilitarian. And
+yet the kitchen expressed sincerely all that was finest in Mrs. Yellam;
+the parlour set forth blatantly the defects of her strong personality.
+
+She read the letter.
+
+"May I keep it, sir?"
+
+"Yes. Colonel Tring tells us, Mrs. Yellam, what we all know here. Alfred
+was a son to be proud of."
+
+Her face remained impassive. She agreed respectfully that it would be
+unwise to tell Fancy the truth till some measure of strength returned to
+her. Hamlin had thought out a score of simple sentences. He said none of
+them. In all his long life he had never realised so acutely the
+illimitable space which may divide two human beings. At this moment
+Parson and Parishioner stood far apart as the poles. He had intended to
+allude to his own son. But she might fling in his teeth the cutting
+reminder that he had others and a daughter. And in this cold, ugly room,
+looking upon her frozen face, sympathy congealed at its source. He
+withheld condolence, because it must hurt instead of help. In silence he
+commended her soul to God, and went away.
+
+Mrs. Yellam unlocked her brass-cornered desk, and placed the letter
+amongst other papers. Then, idly, she looked out of the window, which
+faced the road and river. Before Hamlin came, she had stood at the
+window upstairs, staring out upon the same familiar landscape. And she
+had asked for a sign. She had looked at the heavy clouds even as Fancy
+had looked at her cards. If light shone through them, she might believe
+that for her spring and summer would bloom again.
+
+The sign had not been vouchsafed.
+
+Now, she stood at the window again, with features slightly relaxed. Such
+an expression informed her face as may be seen, sometimes, on the faces
+of steerage passengers upon trans-Atlantic boats taking leave for ever
+of their native land.
+
+She turned from the window and went, heavily, into the kitchen.
+
+Had she waited a minute longer, she would have seen a sign. Through the
+falling rain shone a strange light, palely amber. It illuminated the
+dull water-meadows, evoking colour--iridescent, opaline tints--where
+colour had ceased to be. It transmuted, magically, the sombre lead of
+the swollen river into sparkling gold. And then, swiftly, the light
+failed, the vision splendid vanished like a mirage, leaving behind a
+desert.
+
+She went up stairs. Fancy said eagerly:
+
+"What does Mr. Hamlin say, Mother?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam hesitated, for one second only. She was unprepared for this
+question; she had forgotten the small maid who had scuttled into the
+room, saying that the Parson wanted to see Mrs. Yellam. With a
+tremendous effort she lied superbly, this woman who loathed lies
+because, in her masculine wisdom, she knew that lies made all ordinary
+matters worse instead of better.
+
+She held up her finger.
+
+"You be much too curious, my girl. Mr. Hamlin dropped in, very
+friendly-like, to ask me about the baby's christening. He be a oner for
+gettin' the lambs into the fold so quick as may be."
+
+Fancy was quite satisfied.
+
+"I told 'un," continued Mrs. Yellam placidly, embroidering her theme
+after a fashion which surely would have provoked envy and commendation
+from Uncle, "that you'd be up and about in no time. We passed a few
+cheerful remarks about this be-utiful weather, and then off he goes."
+
+"I'd like to wait for Alfred," murmured Fancy. "I've a notion that he'll
+come before the New Year. If he ain't a prisoner, he will come. I wonder
+if he knows how bad I want him."
+
+"Ah-h-h!" She paused, and then added sharply: "If wanting 'd bring
+Alferd, he'd be here now. You eat more and think less, and then we'll
+all be happy."
+
+With that Mrs. Yellam went abruptly out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE TRAVELLER RETURNS
+
+
+Throughout the day, Mrs. Yellam hovered in and out of Fancy's room,
+instinctively conscious that her patient was less strong, but
+obstinately determined to fight that instinct. Outwardly, there was no
+change. Fancy lay quiet, thinking and talking of Alfred. Lizzie Alfreda,
+happily, evoked no maternal anxiety. Colic did not disturb the infantile
+slumbers. She smiled ineffably at a bottle which contained
+Frisian-Holstein milk drawn from prize-winners, and judiciously blended
+with lime-water. On this mild tipple the child thrived amazingly. The
+monthly nurse now retired to her own cottage at night, returning in the
+morning. Susan Yellam slept upon a small bed made up in Fancy's room.
+The doctor had expressed gratification at the increasing vitality of his
+patient. And on the Wednesday, he said that he should not call again for
+three days, unless he were sent for. He congratulated Susan upon her
+devotion and skill with unmistakable sincerity.
+
+In the afternoon, the morning's drizzle became a downpour, and the Avon
+escaped from its banks. If such rain continued, the Yellam cottage would
+soon become an island. Susan was not disturbed by this. Nothing
+mattered; nothing distracted her save the overpowering determination to
+put Fancy on her feet again. Fancy would assume control of her child.
+And then an old woman would sit down, fold her hands, and await the end.
+Her premature conviction that Fancy would die and that she would live
+had been modified on reflection. Susan held theories about life and
+work. Before the war she had contended that folks were called when their
+work was done. A few rotten apples might stick to the tree, but they
+proved the general rule. Fruit fell to the ground when ripe.
+
+Satisfied in her mind that she would save Fancy by her own undivided
+efforts, Mrs. Yellam contemplated with grim satisfaction her approaching
+decease. She regarded herself as dead. She could survey with detachment
+what was left of the Susan who rose early, waited diligently upon Fancy,
+ate her meals (without any pleasure in them) and lay down to troubled
+sleep. So chilled was she in mind, soul and body, that she noticed
+without regret that Solomon, the faithful Solomon, too affectionate, too
+demonstrative to a hard old flint, had transferred his allegiance to
+Fancy. The dog lay at the foot of her bed night and day. Fancy talked to
+him about Alfred, not about Lizzie Alfreda, because Solomon was jealous.
+When Lizzie Alfreda came in, Solomon went for a run in the garden, and
+heartened himself up by sniffing at various food-stuffs in a delightful
+state of decomposition. But, oddly enough, he never wandered farther
+afield. Within half an hour--Lizzie Alfreda's visits were drastically
+curtailed--he would patter up the wooden stairs, scratch at the door,
+whine, and be admitted. In a jiffy he was on the bed again, staring hard
+at Fancy, as if he were a doctor contemplating a change of treatment.
+
+It had been agreed between Hamlin and Mrs. Yellam that Alfred's death
+should be kept a secret from the villagers till the official
+notification appeared in the newspapers. But when Uncle walked into the
+cottage at tea-time, full of cheer despite the weather, and cracking
+many small jokes about boats and swimmers, Mrs. Yellam simply could not
+bear it. She said with startling abruptness:
+
+"Habakkuk, I'd break bad news to 'ee gently, if I could. But 'tisn't in
+me to do it. Alferd be dead."
+
+Poor Uncle could not take it in.
+
+"But, Susan, Alferd be lost."
+
+"'Twas a shell. They couldn't find 'un, because there was nothing to
+find."
+
+To her dismay, Uncle bowed his head upon his hands and wept like a
+woman, shedding the copious tears that might have softened the hard eyes
+steadily regarding him. He had loved Alfred. Susan knew this. He could
+have better spared one of his own sons rather than this kindly,
+affectionate nephew. She rose quietly and fetched the letter, giving him
+time to recover his self-control. As she held out the letter, he raised
+a face to hers so seamed by grief and pain that almost, almost her heart
+melted within her. He read the letter and returned it. She put it away,
+and took a chair upon the other side of the hearth. Uncle gazed about
+him, noting, as men do upon such occasions, trifles that escape notice
+in happier times. The coffin stools stood in their old place against the
+wall. Uncle pointed at them, with trembling finger:
+
+"Fancy be dead, too."
+
+"No. She be more like herself to-day, although tarr'ble weak. They
+stools be for me, Habakkuk. The sooner I goes the better."
+
+No inflection of resignation tempered this statement. Uncle, like
+Hamlin, realised the futility of condolence, but silence imposed too
+great a burden upon him.
+
+"You has the baby," he suggested.
+
+"She belongs to Fancy. I bain't afeard for they two."
+
+"Be you afeard for yourself, Susan?"
+
+She eyed him, sensible of an ever-increasing aversion to questions. Was
+he thinking of punishment hereafter, of Hell's fires?
+
+"I bain't afeard o' Hell, and I bain't going to Heaven. For why? Heaven
+and Hell be here on earth--and nowheres else."
+
+"Susan----!"
+
+"Ay, you be mazed, and no wonder. But I be come to that. I believed in
+God A'mighty; I believed in Satan--for sixty long years. But such belief
+be clean gone."
+
+"You be wrong, Susan. It ain't in me to argufy wi' 'ee, and, maybe, tear
+both our hearts. But you be wrong. The swallers knows better'n that. Who
+gave 'em their wisdom? I says no more but this: God sent His Own People
+into the wilderness, where you be, and He brought 'em out."
+
+She shook her head. Uncle stood up.
+
+"'Tis rainin' crool hard, but I be off to the Forest. You won't want
+Jane fussin' about 'ee? No. Or anybody else. I allers allowed as misery
+loved company, but I be so miserable this day that I wants to be alone,
+as you does."
+
+He kissed her cold cheeks and went out into the rain.
+
+She sat on for a minute, but the thought that worried her most was the
+regret that he had not had his tea. The day was failing fast. In a
+moment she would have to light a lamp and carry it upstairs. But
+something remained to be done, a duty neglected since the morning.
+
+She went into the parlour, where the light was better, but not good;
+good enough, she reflected, for her purpose. She lifted the Bible,
+placed it upon the middle table, and opened it at the fly-leaf. Then she
+took pen and ink from her desk and a clean sheet of blotting-paper. She
+took out her spectacles, wiped them carefully, put them on, and sat
+down. Against Alfred's name she made the necessary entry, "_Killed in
+Action_," adding the date. Her hand never trembled; the writing was
+characteristic; firm, bold, with the words neatly spaced, indicating
+love of order. What she had willed herself to be, she was: a flint
+embedded in sterile soil. She took off her spectacles and placed them in
+their case, rising as she did so. Upon second thoughts, she decided to
+let the ink dry upon the page. Suddenly, an irresistible impulse gripped
+her. She glanced about her furtively, defiantly, as if challenging
+unseen powers to thwart her determination. Hastily with fingers that
+trembled this time, she snatched up the pen, dipped it into the ink, and
+wrote against her name, Susan Yellam, these words:
+
+"_Died. December 28th, 1916._"
+
+As hastily, she placed the sheet of blotting-paper above the entries,
+closed the Bible, and replaced it upon its table.
+
+Having shut up the parlour, she lit a lamp and carried it upstairs. The
+baby was asleep. The nurse went home for the night. Then Mrs. Yellam
+told Fancy, in a cheerful voice, that she would bring up tea in a few
+minutes.
+
+"I thought I heard Uncle," said Fancy.
+
+"Yes; he looked in and made some stupid jokes, he did, about gettin' the
+miller's boat."
+
+"Whatever for?"
+
+"Like as not we may be on an island afore nightfall."
+
+Fancy smiled.
+
+"I'd love to ride in miller's boat again. Alfred popped the question in
+that. I did tease him first. 'Twas rare fun. I suppose Uncle was in fine
+fettle, as usual?"
+
+"Yes; I never seen him so gay and joyous. Now, you lie so quiet as any
+mouse whilst I gets tea."
+
+It might have been so delightful a meal. Outside, the wind roared and
+the rain fell in sheets; inside, the logs crackled in the fireplace, the
+warm curtains were drawn, and the lamp shone upon Mrs. Yellam's best
+tea-things. Everything that could tempt a capricious appetite was there:
+fragrant tea, cream, jam, honey, and little scones which warranted the
+belief that Susan Yellam had secreted somewhere a bag of white flour.
+
+Susan had to sustain the burden of talk, and soared to heights. Fancy
+must be entertained--the doctor's injunction. The old woman's amazing
+will surmounted all obstacles. And who shall say that this
+heart-breaking effort to beguile Fancy was not the most selfless
+achievement of Mrs. Yellam's long life? She described passages in
+Uncle's early career; anecdotes about Jane, anecdotes about her own
+Lizzie and Alfred. As a boy, it seemed, Alfred had been very untidy. He
+never kept his own little attic in order. Finally his mother said to
+him:
+
+"Alferd, your room bain't a boy's room, nor a dog's kennel, nor a pig's
+stye. 'Tis the habitation of a lunatic."
+
+Fancy smiled, because the mother must have spoken at the time, and again
+now, with such inimitable seriousness.
+
+After tea, Fancy was commanded to rest. But before doing so, she caught
+hold of her entertainer's hand, and said earnestly:
+
+"How good you are to me, Mother! How good and kind you always are to
+sick folk. Such a wondersome woman! I hope my lil' maid will grow up
+just like you."
+
+"If you talk such outrageous nonsense, I'll--I'll spank Lizzie. That'll
+larn 'ee."
+
+But Fancy refused to be gagged. She went on, in her soft, feeble tones,
+expatiating upon Mrs. Yellam's many virtues and excellencies. Time was
+when Susan would have listened to this praise with smug complacency.
+Fancy did but state the facts. And the mere recital of them exasperated
+the listener beyond endurance. Steel striking flint--and praise had
+become steel--provoked sparks.
+
+"I be real vexed wi' 'ee, Fancy."
+
+She bustled off with the tea-things, and remained absent so long that
+Fancy began to fear that she had really offended her. Solomon, however,
+reassured her on this point. They exchanged pleasant chat about Alfred.
+Fancy felt jealous because Solomon would know when Alfred was coming at
+least five minutes before she did.
+
+"You'll jump off the bed and bark."
+
+Solomon wagged his tail.
+
+"My! Won't he get wet if he comes to-night, Solly? Are you expecting him
+to-night, you wise little dog?"
+
+Solomon put a cold nose into her hand. Mrs. Yellam's step was heard on
+the stairs. Solomon retired to his end of the bed, well aware that
+prolonged talk had been forbidden after tea.
+
+Mrs. Yellam, seeing that Fancy was awake, said impressively:
+
+"We be an island at this minute."
+
+"Oh, dear!"
+
+Mrs. Yellam assured her that it had often happened before. The cottage
+itself stood high above the encroaching waters. At highest flood they
+were not more than two feet deep.
+
+"Alfred'll get so wet."
+
+"Ay. I never thought o' that. I think, Fancy, that you did ought to put
+this strange notion of Alferd's coming out of your dear lil' head. 'Tis
+most onlikely. I dunno' how such a queer idea got into it."
+
+"Because he promised me that he would come."
+
+"But, Lard bless 'ee, he meant so be as he got leave. If 'tis true that
+he be safe in France----"
+
+"I know he be safe."
+
+Mrs. Yellam glanced at her anxiously. Was the girl light-headed? She
+must know that if Alfred were missing, owing--as Fancy had been
+discreetly told--to some injury to his head which had caused him to
+stray from the British lines, his first steps, when he became himself
+again, would be directed back to his battalion. Wisely, she busied
+herself about the room, entreating her patient to compose herself to
+sleep. Presently Fancy dozed off, and Mrs. Yellam, softly approaching
+the bed, examined her critically. She looked startlingly pretty. A faint
+colour tinged lips and cheeks; her skin was translucently clear; her
+hair, regularly brushed by Mrs. Yellam, lay thick and lustrous above her
+forehead.
+
+It was almost impossible to behold her as a widow.
+
+For the first time since she had dedicated all her energies to fighting
+for this frail life doubt assailed Mrs. Yellam. Fancy's hand lay upon
+the white counterpane. Mrs. Yellam laid her hand beside it and compared
+the two.
+
+All her experience of life as it is lived by people who cannot afford
+servants, the endless bondage to manual labour, the washing, scrubbing
+of floors and pots and pans, the cooking, the mending, rose up in her
+ample mind, and filled it with poignant misgiving. Could this attenuated
+hand, soft and weak as a child's, fend for Lizzie if--if Death came at
+the despairing call of Susan Yellam?
+
+She clenched her own hand, nearly as large and powerful as a man's fist.
+Fancy _must_ live to mother her child. She had no claim on Death, this
+young, pretty creature, so easily pleased with life, so happy with
+simple things, so contented with what she possessed, incapable of
+envying those above her in station. Time would be kind to her. Time
+would enshrine Alfred in her heart as the man who had taught her to
+love, who had given her a fidelity and tenderness rarely found in
+cottages or palaces. She might marry again. Why not? It says much for
+Susan Yellam's essential wisdom that she could visualise such a
+possibility, however remote, without a pang.
+
+A couple of hours passed.
+
+Lizzie Alfreda was fed and washed, with Fancy looking on, and replaced
+in her cradle. Mrs. Yellam mended the fire, and went down to the kitchen
+to prepare supper. Fancy seemed to be refreshed after her nap, but some
+inflection of her voice warned an obstinate old woman that strength was
+departing, very slowly, almost imperceptibly, as the hour-hand moves
+round the dial.
+
+After supper she took her knitting and sat by the bed. To her great
+relief, Fancy never mentioned Alfred. She prattled artlessly about
+Lizzie. And then, gradually, during the intermittancies of silence, Mrs.
+Yellam knew that the victory, for which she had fought so desperately,
+which she had believed to be won, was unachievable. Afterwards, she was
+unable to say when this conviction seized her. She admitted, however, to
+Uncle that she knew because Fancy must have known. And Fancy believed
+that she was cunningly hiding this knowledge. It leaked from her lips,
+as she talked about Lizzie Alfreda to her grandmother, conjuring up a
+picture of youth ministering to age, a picture so vivid, so true to
+life, that something told Susan Yellam that it must come to pass. Fancy
+was going. And when her own time came, she would lie in this bed, and
+Alfred's child would close her eyes. Fancy foreshadowed no such scene.
+But she spoke of Mrs. Yellam teaching Lizzie Alfreda how to use her
+needle and instructing her in other domestic tasks. The thought of doing
+this, of playing mother in her old age, softened indurated tissues, but
+the original hardness remained. Susan turned desperately for comfort to
+a flesh-and-blood grandchild; she turned as desperately from any faith
+in a wise and merciful God.
+
+Outside, the rain went on falling; the wind wailed through the firs
+where the ospreys found sanctuary on their flight south. Solomon slept
+comfortably at the foot of the bed. Presently, it became time to prepare
+Fancy for the night. Face and hands were washed with soap which Mrs.
+Yellam had never applied to her weather-beaten countenance. Fancy's hair
+was brushed and plaited in two coils.
+
+"Put on fresh ribands to-night, mother."
+
+"What an idea! You be so vain as any twoad."
+
+"Are toads vain? I'd like blue ribands."
+
+Grumblingly, Mrs. Yellam went to a drawer and produced new ribands. When
+she had finished her patient's toilet, she said:
+
+"My! But you look pretty to-night."
+
+"Do I? I'm glad of that."
+
+Lizzie Alfreda woke up, clamouring for Frisian-Holstein milk. She lay
+beside Fancy till the bottle was finished. Then she was taken back to
+her cradle in the next room.
+
+It was fully time now for Mrs. Yellam to prepare for the night, but she
+didn't do so. Fancy had closed her eyes. The faint colour had gone from
+her cheeks. She had fallen asleep. Susan laid her finger upon the pulse;
+she could just feel it beating, but not regularly. A wild impulse surged
+through her to rush into the night, to send Uncle for the doctor. But
+she dared not leave her patient. And, after all, there was so little
+change; the child had talked too much after tea; strength would return
+in the morning.
+
+She made up the fire again, slipped off her austere black gown, and put
+on a dressing-gown, an ancient garment known to many mothers in
+Nether-Applewhite. Draped in this, with list sandals on her feet, you
+might have taken Susan for a Roman matron. Hamlin, who had seen her thus
+arrayed, nearly addressed her as "Cornelia."
+
+An hour or more may have passed, during which time the gale began to
+rage itself out. Lulls succeeded roaring blasts. Mrs. Yellam felt no
+inclination to sleep; she became, instead, sensible of alertness, a
+quickening of sensibilities and senses. Her hearing, still acute, became
+painfully so. The patter of the rain upon the windows irritated her;
+when it stopped, she missed it, and wanted it to begin again.
+
+And then a strange thing happened, strange only when taken in connection
+with what followed. Solomon woke up, jumped lightly from the bed, and
+went to the door. He had been let out, as usual, some two hours
+previously. Mrs. Yellam held up a finger, enjoining silence. Solomon lay
+down, head up, staring at the door, alert, as Mrs. Yellam was,
+expectant, with ears cocked as if he heard something or somebody.
+
+"What is it, Solly?" she whispered.
+
+He paid no attention.
+
+If the cottage had not been surrounded by water, Mrs. Yellam might have
+considered the probability of tramps trying to find shelter in the barn.
+She would not have been alarmed. Her cottage was tramp-proof and at this
+moment an island fortress. At the same time, she knew that her heart was
+beating faster; an indefinable fear assailed her, something she had
+never experienced before.
+
+She started violently. Fancy was sitting up in bed, her cheeks flushed
+with colour, her eyes dancing, her arms outstretched.
+
+"I hear him," she exclaimed. "Don't you, Mother?"
+
+"Lie down, child; lie down."
+
+"It's Alfred. Let him in!"
+
+Mrs. Yellam did not move. Fancy, she decided, was light-headed. She
+hesitated, fearing to excite her, willing to humour her, provided she
+made no attempt to leave her bed.
+
+"He's coming upstairs."
+
+She no longer looked at Mrs. Yellam; her eyes remained upon the bedroom
+door. So strange a light shone in those eyes that Mrs. Yellam began to
+question her own sanity, not Fancy's.
+
+Solomon never moved.
+
+The suspense became unendurable. But Mrs. Yellam remained in her chair,
+ready to spring to her feet, if Fancy left the bed.
+
+Solomon got up, whined, turned from the door, and jumped into Mrs.
+Yellam's lap. He was trembling. At the same moment she heard Fancy's
+voice, strong and exultant:
+
+"Alfie!--I knew you'd come."
+
+Her speech became broken and faltering:
+
+"I did want you, as never was. It was awful going through it without
+you. And it's a She--what you wanted. How lovely you look! Kiss me
+again! Hold me tight! If you don't, I--I may slip off...."
+
+Her voice died away in sighs; her eyes closed; her head fell back upon
+her pillow. Mrs. Yellam put Solomon down, rose to her feet, and hurried
+to the bed. In an instant her strong arms were encircling the wasted
+body, clutching it to her, trying to hold Fancy back, but knowing that
+she was, as she said, slipping away. Fancy spoke again, very faintly:
+
+"However did you manage to come back?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam listened, waiting, hoping, and almost believing, that an
+answer would be forthcoming. Her son, according to Colonel Tring, had
+been killed by a shell--killed and obliterated. She had known that death
+must have been painless.
+
+Fancy answered for Alfred, in a whisper that seemed to come from an
+immense distance.
+
+"I hear you, plain as plain. What? A--_shell_--! Did it hurt, Alfie? It
+didn't. But because of that you were able to come. You had to come for
+both our sakes--Mother's and mine. And such a night! You ain't a bit
+wet, neither.... Afraid, Alfie...? With you holding me tight as
+tight.... Oh, no."
+
+Susan Yellam heard a trickle of laughter. After that Fancy sighed twice,
+and then her small body relaxed.
+
+She had slipped away.
+
+       *     *     *     *     *
+
+Dawn was stealing into the kitchen when Mrs. Yellam went downstairs.
+
+She was still curiously alert in mind, although very weary in body.
+After she had closed Fancy's eyes and performed the last services, she
+sat down by the bed to think. Dying people, as she knew, might entertain
+hallucinations. And Fancy, in health, exercised a lively imagination.
+That she should believe that she saw Alfred, so long and ardently
+desired, just before breath left her body, was not remarkable in itself.
+
+But, speaking for Alfred, repeating, as it were, information, Fancy had
+used the word "shell."
+
+Was this mere coincidence?
+
+Again, according to Alfred--admitting that he had come back--his return
+in the spirit was due not only to solicitude for his wife, but for his
+mother. She heard Fancy's feeble voice--"for both our sakes." And she
+had spoken of his appearance as "lovely."
+
+Susan Yellam's strong brain considered these three facts together with
+the uncanny behaviour of Solomon, now peacefully asleep in the next
+room. As yet, she had shed no tears, but, slowly, the ice about her
+heart was melting.
+
+Her thoughts turned to the form beneath the spotless sheet. It seemed so
+cruel that Fancy should be dead. Why was life given to young things and
+then taken away? But this gentle creature had not lived in vain. She had
+accomplished a task that had baffled Jane Mucklow and herself. Fancy had
+drawn Habakkuk from the ale-house, beguiled him from his cronies with
+soft words and smiles, made a better man of him. She had made a better
+man of Alfred.
+
+She thought of Alfred and Fancy together.
+
+Almost she believed that Alfred had come back.
+
+Hovering upon the brink of this conviction, she heard a wail from the
+baby, the pitiful appeal of helplessness to strength. She hurried into
+the next room, and took the child into her arms, clutching it to her
+bosom.
+
+Lizzie Alfreda was hers, her very own. Till that moment she had regarded
+the tiny creature, not with indifference, but apathetically, a
+grandchild by whom she would do her duty. And we know that she had
+forced herself to believe that Fancy would live to fend for her own
+child. Could so frail a woman have done so properly? If her wish had
+been granted, if Death had taken Susan instead of Fancy Yellam, and if
+Fancy had risen from her bed an enfeebled, anæmic woman, subject to all
+those maladies which wait on physical debility, could she have "fended"
+for Lizzie Alfreda?
+
+The ice was melting fast now.
+
+She fed Lizzie Alfreda and replaced her in the cradle, but the baby
+still wailed a little, staring at Susan Yellam. She took her up--an
+action against her principles--soothed her, and immediately the child
+stopped crying. Susan crooned to her a lullaby which she thought she had
+forgotten, which had served, long ago, when her own Lizzie was wakeful.
+And the simple, droning song brought back, vividly, past pleasures. Age
+dropped from her; she became for a moment a young mother anticipating
+joyously all that "fending" implied. Soon the child slept.
+
+And then the tears came, washing away ice, doubt, despair, cleansing
+anew a humble and contrite heart.
+
+From that undiscovered country, whose existence she had obstinately
+denied, a traveller had returned.
+
+After lighting the kitchen fire, Susan Yellam entered the parlour. She
+pulled up the blinds and drew the curtains. From her desk, she took a
+sharp penknife, and tried its edge upon her thumb. Then, reluctantly, as
+if ashamed, she opened the Bible, intending to erase carefully the last
+presumptuous entry.
+
+She glanced at it, and a sharp exclamation escaped her trembling lips.
+She put on her spectacles and stared, open-mouthed, at the page in front
+of her. "Died, December 28th, 1916," was written not, as she had
+supposed, against the name of Susan Yellam, but against the name of
+Fancy Yellam.
+
+And then she remembered that, in her blind haste to record her own
+death, she had forgotten to put on her spectacles.
+
+And the light, at the time, was failing.
+
+The Light was not failing now.
+
+She fell upon her knees, bowing her head over the Book.
+
+Next Sunday she was in her pew.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS OF
+MARY ROBERTS RINEHART
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+"K." Illustrated.
+
+K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, drops out of the world that has known him,
+and goes to live in a little town where beautiful Sidney Page lives. She
+is in training to become a nurse. The joys and troubles of their young
+love are told with that keen and sympathetic appreciation which has made
+the author famous.
+
+
+THE MAN IN LOWER TEN.
+
+Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.
+
+An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the
+"Man in Lower Ten." The strongest elements of Mrs. Rinehart's success
+are found in this book.
+
+
+WHEN A MAN MARRIES.
+
+Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker.
+
+A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his
+aunt is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family
+income and who has never seen the wife, knows nothing of the domestic
+upheaval. How the young man met the situation is humorously and most
+entertainingly told.
+
+
+THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE.   Illus. by Lester Ralph.
+
+The summer occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold
+Armstrong, the son of the owner, on the circular staircase. Following
+the murder a bank failure is announced. Around these two events is woven
+a plot of absorbing interest.
+
+
+THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS.
+
+Illustrated (Photo Play Edition.)
+
+Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly
+realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious
+doctor who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with
+world-worn Dr. Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and
+slender means.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+SEVENTEEN. Illustrated by Arthur William Brown.
+
+No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortal young
+people of this story. Its humor is irresistible and reminiscent of the
+time when the reader was Seventeen.
+
+
+PENROD. Illustrated by Gordon Grant.
+
+This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, humorous,
+tragic things which are locked secrets to most older folks. It is a
+finished, exquisite work.
+
+
+PENROD AND SAM. Illustrated by Worth Brehm.
+
+Like "Penrod" and "Seventeen," this book contains some remarkable phases
+of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenile prankishness
+that have ever been written.
+
+
+THE TURMOIL. Illustrated by C. E. Chambers.
+
+Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts against his
+father's plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The love of a
+fine girl turns Bibb's life from failure to success.
+
+
+THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA. Frontispiece.
+
+A story of love and politics,--more especially a picture of a country
+editor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies in the love
+interest.
+
+
+THE FLIRT. Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood.
+
+The "Flirt," the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's engagement,
+drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another, leads another
+to lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid and unpromising
+suitor, leaving the really worthy one to marry her sister.
+
+_Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIES
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+MOTHER. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
+
+This book has a fairy-story touch, counterbalanced by the sturdy reality
+of struggle, sacrifice, and resulting peace and power of a mother's
+experiences.
+
+
+SATURDAY'S CHILD.
+
+Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes.
+
+Out on the Pacific coast a normal girl, obscure and lovely, makes a
+quest for happiness. She passes through three stages--poverty, wealth
+and service--and works out a creditable salvation.
+
+
+THE RICH MRS. BURGOYNE.
+
+Illustrated by Lucius H. Hitchcock.
+
+The story of a sensible woman who keeps within her means, refuses to be
+swamped by social engagements, lives a normal human life of varied
+interests, and has her own romance.
+
+
+THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE.
+
+Frontispiece by Allan Gilbert.
+
+How Julia Page, reared in rather unpromising surroundings, lifted
+herself through sheer determination to a higher plane of life.
+
+
+THE HEART OF RACHAEL.
+
+Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers.
+
+Rachael is called upon to solve many problems, and in working out these,
+there is shown the beauty and strength of soul of one of fiction's most
+appealing characters.
+
+_Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+SEWELL FORD'S STORIES
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+SHORTY McCABE. Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+A very humorous story. The hero, an independent and vigorous thinker,
+sees life, and tells about it in a very unconventional way.
+
+
+SIDE-STEPPING WITH SHORTY.
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+Twenty skits, presenting people with their foibles. Sympathy with human
+nature and an abounding sense of humor are the requisites for
+"side-stepping with Shorty."
+
+
+SHORTY McCABE ON THE JOB.
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+Shorty McCabe reappears with his figures of speech revamped right up to
+the minute. He aids in the right distribution of a "conscience fund,"
+and gives joy to all concerned.
+
+
+SHORTY McCABE'S ODD NUMBERS.
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+These further chronicles of Shorty McCabe tell of his studio for
+physical culture, and of his experiences both on the East side and at
+swell yachting parties.
+
+
+TORCHY. Illus. by Geo. Biehm and Jas. Montgomery Flagg.
+
+A red-headed office boy, overflowing with wit and wisdom peculiar to the
+youths reared on the sidewalks of New York, tells the story of his
+experiences.
+
+
+TRYING OUT TORCHY. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy is just as deliriously funny in these stories as he was in the
+previous book.
+
+
+ON WITH TORCHY. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy falls desperately in love with "the only girl that ever was," but
+that young society woman's aunt tries to keep the young people apart,
+which brings about many hilariously funny situations.
+
+
+TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy rises from the position of office boy to that of secretary for
+the Corrugated Iron Company. The story is full of humor and infectious
+American slang.
+
+
+WILT THOU TORCHY. Illus. by F. Snapp and A. W. Brown.
+
+Torchy goes on a treasure search expedition to the Florida West Coast,
+in company with a group of friends of the Corrugated Trust and with his
+friend's aunt, on which trip Torchy wins the aunt's permission to place
+an engagement ring on Vee's finger.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS OF WINSTON CHURCHILL
+
+
+THE INSIDE OF THE CUP. Illustrated by Howard Giles.
+
+The Reverend John Hodder is called to a fashionable church in a
+middle-western city. He knows little of modern problems and in his
+theology is as orthodox as the rich men who control his church could
+desire. But the facts of modern life are thrust upon him; an awakening
+follows and in the end he works out a solution.
+
+
+A FAR COUNTRY. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.
+
+This novel is concerned with big problems of the day. As _The Inside of
+the Cup_ gets down to the essentials in its discussion of religion, so
+_A Far Country_ deals in a story that is intense and dramatic, with
+other vital issues confronting the twentieth century.
+
+
+A MODERN CHRONICLE. Illustrated by J. H. Gardner Soper.
+
+This, Mr. Churchill's first great presentation of the Eternal Feminine,
+is throughout a profound study of a fascinating young American woman. It
+is frankly a modern love story.
+
+
+MR. CREWE'S CAREER. Illus. by A. I. Keller and Kinneys.
+
+A new England state is under the political domination of a railway and
+Mr. Crewe, a millionaire, seizes a moment when the cause of the people
+is being espoused by an ardent young attorney, to further his own
+interest in a political way. The daughter of the railway president plays
+no small part in the situation.
+
+
+THE CROSSING. Illustrated by S. Adamson and L. Baylis.
+
+Describing the battle of Fort Moultrie, the blazing of the Kentucky
+wilderness, the expedition of Clark and his handful of followers in
+Illinois, the beginning of civilization along the Ohio and Mississippi,
+and the treasonable schemes against Washington.
+
+
+CONISTON. Illustrated by Florence Scovel Shinn.
+
+A deft blending of love and politics. A New Englander is the hero, a
+crude man who rose to political prominence by his own powers, and then
+surrendered all for the love of a woman.
+
+
+THE CELEBRITY. An episode.
+
+An inimitable bit of comedy describing an interchange of personalities
+between a celebrated author and a bicycle salesman. It is the purest,
+keenest fun--and is American to the core.
+
+
+THE CRISIS. Illustrated with scenes from the Photo-Play.
+
+A book that presents the great crisis in our national life with splendid
+power and with a sympathy, a sincerity, and a patriotism that are
+inspiring.
+
+
+RICHARD CARVEL. Illustrated by Malcolm Frazer.
+
+An historical novel which gives a real and vivid picture of Colonial
+times, and is good, clean, spirited reading in all its phases and
+interesting throughout.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+JACK LONDON'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+JOHN BARLEYCORN. Illustrated by H. T. Dunn.
+
+This remarkable book is a record of the author's own amazing
+experiences. This big, brawny world rover, who has been acquainted with
+alcohol from boyhood, comes out boldly against John Barleycorn. It is a
+string of exciting adventures, yet it forcefully conveys an unforgetable
+idea and makes a typical Jack London book.
+
+
+THE VALLEY OF THE MOON. Frontispiece by George Harper.
+
+The story opens in the city slums where Billy Roberts, teamster and
+ex-prize fighter, and Saxon Brown, laundry worker, meet and love and
+marry. They tramp from one end of California to the other, and in the
+Valley of the Moon find the farm paradise that is to be their salvation.
+
+
+BURNING DAYLIGHT. Four illustrations.
+
+The story of an adventurer who went to Alaska and laid the foundations
+of his fortune before the gold hunters arrived. Bringing his fortunes to
+the States he is cheated out of it by a crowd of money kings, and
+recovers it only at the muzzle of his gun. He then starts out as a
+merciless exploiter on his own account. Finally he takes to drinking and
+becomes a picture of degeneration. About this time he falls in love with
+his stenographer and wins her heart but not her hand and then--but read
+the story!
+
+
+A SON OF THE SUN. Illustrated by A. O. Fischer and C. W. Ashley.
+
+David Grief was once a light-haired, blue-eyed youth who came from
+England to the South Seas in search of adventure. Tanned like a native
+and as lithe as a tiger, he became a real son of the sun. The life
+appealed to him and he remained and became very wealthy.
+
+
+THE CALL OF THE WILD. Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin and Charles
+Livingston Bull. Decorations by Charles E. Hooper.
+
+A book of dog adventures as exciting as any man's exploits could be.
+Here is excitement to stir the blood and here is picturesque color to
+transport the reader to primitive scenes.
+
+
+THE SEA WOLF. Illustrated by W. J. Aylward.
+
+Told by a man whom Fate suddenly swings from his fastidious life into
+the power of the brutal captain of a sealing schooner. A novel of
+adventure warmed by a beautiful love episode that every reader will hail
+with delight.
+
+
+WHITE FANG. Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull.
+
+"White Fang" is part dog, part wolf and all brute, living in the frozen
+north; he gradually comes under the spell of man's companionship, and
+surrenders all at the last in a fight with a bull dog. Thereafter he is
+man's loving slave.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY
+
+WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE
+
+HANDSOMELY BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED.
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.
+
+
+MAVERICKS.
+
+A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose depredations
+are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One
+of the sweetest love stories ever told.
+
+
+A TEXAS RANGER.
+
+How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law into
+the mesquit, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of
+thrilling adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed
+through deadly peril to ultimate happiness.
+
+
+WYOMING.
+
+In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the
+breezy charm of "cattleland," and brings out the turbid life of the
+frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor.
+
+
+RIDGWAY OF MONTANA.
+
+The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and
+mining industries are the religion of the country. The political
+contest, the love scene, and the fine character drawing give this story
+great strength and charm.
+
+
+BUCKY O'CONNOR.
+
+Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with
+the dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash and absorbing
+fascination of style and plot.
+
+
+CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT.
+
+A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter
+feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most unusual
+woman and her love story reaches a culmination that is fittingly
+characteristic of the great free West.
+
+
+BRAND BLOTTERS.
+
+A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of
+the frontier, with all its engaging dash and vigor, with a charming love
+interest running through its 320 pages.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+ZANE GREY'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list
+
+
+THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS
+
+A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center of
+frontier warfare. Her loyal superintendent rescues her when she is
+captured by bandits. A surprising climax brings the story to a
+delightful close.
+
+
+THE RAINBOW TRAIL
+
+The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the great
+western uplands--until at last love and faith awake.
+
+
+DESERT GOLD
+
+The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends with
+the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to the girl who
+is the story's heroine.
+
+
+RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE
+
+A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon
+authority ruled. The prosecution of Jane Withersteen is the theme of the
+story.
+
+
+THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN
+
+This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones,
+known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert
+and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of deep canons and giant
+pines."
+
+
+THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT
+
+A lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young
+New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall
+become the second wife of one of the Mormons--Well, that's the problem
+of this great story.
+
+
+THE SHORT STOP
+
+The young hero, tiring of his factory grind, starts out to win fame and
+fortune as a professional ball player. His hard knocks at the start are
+followed by such success as clean sportsmanship, courage and honesty
+ought to win.
+
+
+BETTY ZANE
+
+This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful
+young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers.
+
+
+THE LONE STAR RANGER
+
+After killing a man in self defense, Buck Duane becomes an outlaw along
+the Texas border. In a camp on the Mexican side of the river, he finds a
+young girl held prisoner, and in attempting to rescue her, brings down
+upon himself the wrath of her captors and henceforth is hunted on one
+side by honest men, on the other by outlaws.
+
+
+THE BORDER LEGION
+
+Joan Randle, in a spirit of anger, sent Jim Cleve out to a lawless
+Western mining camp, to prove his mettle. Then realizing that she loved
+him--she followed him out. On her way, she is captured by a bandit band,
+and trouble begins when she shoots Kells, the leader--and nurses him to
+health again. Here enters another romance--when Joan, disguised as an
+outlaw, observes Jim, in the throes of dissipation. A gold strike, a
+thrilling robbery--gambling and gun play carry you along breathlessly.
+
+
+THE LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS, By Helen Cody Wetmore and Zane Grey
+
+The life story of Colonel William F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill," as told by
+his sister and Zane Grey. It begins with his boyhood in Iowa and his
+first encounter with an Indian. We see "Bill" as a pony express rider,
+then near Fort Sumter as Chief of the Scouts, and later engaged in the
+most dangerous Indian campaigns. There is also a very interesting
+account of the travels of "The Wild West" Show. No character in public
+life makes a stronger appeal to the imagination of America than "Buffalo
+Bill," whose daring and bravery made him famous.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY
+
+GENE STRATTON-PORTER
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+MICHAEL O'HALLORAN. Illustrated by Frances Rogers.
+
+Michael is a quick-witted little Irish newsboy, living in Northern
+Indiana. He adopts a deserted little girl, a cripple. He also assumes
+the responsibility of leading the entire rural community upward and
+onward.
+
+
+LADDIE. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.
+
+This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The story
+is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it
+is concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love affairs
+of older members of the family. Chief among them is that of Laddie and
+the Princess, an English girl who has come to live in the neighborhood
+and about whose family there hangs a mystery.
+
+
+THE HARVESTER. Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs.
+
+"The Harvester," is a man of the woods and fields, and if the book had
+nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be notable.
+But when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods," there begins a romance
+of the rarest idyllic quality.
+
+
+FRECKLES. Illustrated.
+
+Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he
+takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great
+Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to
+the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with "The
+Angel" are full of real sentiment.
+
+
+A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST. Illustrated.
+
+The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, loveable type of
+the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness
+towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of
+her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and
+unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.
+
+
+AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW. Illustrations in colors.
+
+The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The
+story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love.
+The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and
+its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all.
+
+
+THE SONG OF THE CARDINAL. Profusely illustrated.
+
+A love idea of the Cardinal bird and his mate, told with delicacy and
+humor.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+MYRTLE REED'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.
+
+
+LAVENDER AND OLD LACE.
+
+A charming story of a quaint corner of New England, where bygone romance
+finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming of love to
+the young people on the staff of a newspaper--and it is one of the
+prettiest, sweetest and quaintest of old-fashioned love stories.
+
+
+MASTER OF THE VINEYARD.
+
+A pathetic love story of a young girl, Rosemary. The teacher of the
+country school, who is also master of the vineyard, comes to know her
+through her desire for books. She is happy in his love till another
+woman comes into his life. But happiness and emancipation from her many
+trials come to Rosemary at last. The book has a touch of humor and
+pathos that will appeal to every reader.
+
+
+OLD ROSE AND SILVER.
+
+A love story,--sentimental and humorous,--with the plot subordinate to
+the character delineation of its quaint people and to the exquisite
+descriptions of picturesque spots and of lovely, old, rare treasures.
+
+
+A WEAVER OF DREAMS.
+
+This story tells of the love-affairs of three young people, with an
+old-fashioned romance in the background. A tiny dog plays an important
+role in serving as a foil for the heroine's talking ingeniousness. There
+is poetry, as well as tenderness and charm, in this tale of a weaver of
+dreams.
+
+
+A SPINNER IN THE SUN.
+
+An old-fashioned love story, of a veiled lady who lives in solitude and
+whose features her neighbors have never seen. There is a mystery at the
+heart of the book that throws over it the glamour of romance.
+
+
+THE MASTER'S VIOLIN.
+
+A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German virtuoso
+consents to take for his pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an
+aptitude for technique, but not the soul of an artist. The youth cannot
+express the love, the passion and the tragedies of life as can the
+master. But a girl comes into his life, and through his passionate love
+for her, he learns the lessons that life has to give--and his soul
+awakes.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+       *     *     *     *     *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+  Punctuation has been made consistent.
+
+  Dialect, alternate and obsolete spellings were not changed.
+  Words ending in '-ise' and '-sing' instead of the more usual '-ize'
+  and '-zing' were  not changed, e.g. apologise instead of apologize.
+
+  Changes made for consistency within the text:
+    deleted hyphen in 'offertory-plate'
+      ... copper to the offertory plate....
+    deleted hyphen in 'parlour-maid'
+      ... Mr. Hamlin's new parlourmaid ...
+      ... from the new parlourmaid ...
+    'pollygammy' to 'polligammy'
+      ... that pretty pass, polligammy....
+    added hyphen to ale-house
+      ... seen some nice lil' ale-house ...
+      ... takes a man to the ale-house?...
+      ... drive a man to the ale-house ...
+    added hyphen to back yard
+      ... out o' sight in my back-yard."
+    deleted hyphen in 'country-side'
+      ... William Saint scoured the countryside ...
+
+  Other changes to text:
+    'monagenarian' to 'nonagenarian' ... The nonagenarian displayed ...
+    'omniverously' to 'omnivorously' ... the Parson read omnivorously...
+    'Nomconformists' to 'Nonconformists' ... the Nonconformists gird ...
+    'pallour' to 'pallor' ... seeming pallor in the ill-lit room ...
+    'mind' to 'mine' ... I wouldn't let him black mine....
+    'exigesis' to 'exegesis' ... merely Biblical exegesis ...
+    'fine' to 'time' ...In time, if Alfred donned khaki ...
+    'sentenously' to 'sententiously' ... remarked sententiously that ...
+    'immeasureably' to 'immeasurably' ... immeasurably multiplied ...
+    'telgram' to 'telegram' ... what was in the telegram,...
+    deleted hyphen from 'middle-class' ... for middle class trippers ...
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM***
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+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Soul of Susan Yellam, by Horace Annesley
+Vachell</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Soul of Susan Yellam</p>
+<p>Author: Horace Annesley Vachell</p>
+<p>Release Date: June 14, 2011  [eBook #36428]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Carol Brown,<br />
+    and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>THE SOUL OF<br />
+SUSAN YELLAM</h1>
+
+<h5>BY</h5>
+<h2>HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL</h2>
+
+<h5>AUTHOR OF<br />
+SOME HAPPENINGS, QUINNEYS,<br />
+BLINDS DOWN, LOOT, <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></h5>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/logo.png"
+ width="158" height="127" alt="Illustration: printer's logo"
+ title="printer's logo" />
+</div>
+
+<h4>NEW YORK</h4>
+<h3>GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP</h3>
+<h4>PUBLISHERS</h4>
+
+<p class="p4 center"><i>Copyright, 1918,<br />
+By George H. Doran Company</i></p>
+
+<p class="p4 center"><i>Printed in the United States of America</i></p>
+
+<p class="p4"> </p>
+<h4>TO THE MEMORY OF<br />
+MY SON</h4>
+<h3>RICHARD TANFIELD VACHELL</h3>
+<h4>CAPTAIN, FIFTH FUSILIERS</h4>
+
+<p class="p4"> </p>
+
+<div> <table class="bold" border="0" cellpadding="5"
+cellspacing="10" summary="Table of Contents">
+
+<tr><td> </td><th>CONTENTS</th></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><span
+class="smcap">chapter</span></td><td></td><td align="right"><span
+class="smcap">page</span></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch1">I</a></td><td>MOTHER AND
+SON</td><td align="right">11</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch2">II</a></td><td>FANCY
+BROOMFIELD</td><td align="right">27</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch3">III</a></td><td>INTRODUCING MRS.
+MUCKLOW</td><td align="right">42</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch4">IV</a></td><td>LE PAYS DU
+TENDRE</td><td align="right">57</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch5">V</a></td><td>UNCLE</td><td
+align="right">70</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch6">VI</a></td><td>FIRST
+IMPRESSIONS</td><td align="right">86</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch7">VII</a></td><td>SECOND
+IMPRESSIONS</td><td align="right">101</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch8">VIII</a></td><td>RECRUITING</td><td
+align="right">116</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch9">IX</a></td><td>PARSON'S
+METHODS</td><td align="right">130</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch10">X</a></td><td>FANCY'S
+ORDEAL</td><td align="right">144</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch11">XI</a></td><td>THE UNEXPECTED
+HAPPENS</td><td align="right">160</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch12">XII</a></td><td>THE EMPTY
+PEW</td><td align="right">174</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch13">XIII</a></td><td>FANCY CONSULTS
+THE CARDS</td><td align="right">190</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch14">XIV</a></td><td>HYMENEAL</td><td
+align="right">203</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch15">XV</a></td><td>LEANNESS OF
+SOUL</td><td align="right">217</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch16">XVI</a></td><td>SAINT
+WILLUM</td><td align="right">234</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a
+href="#Ch17">XVII</a></td><td>FOOL-WISDOM</td><td
+align="right">248</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch18">XVIII</a></td><td>MISSING!</td><td
+align="right">263</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch19">XIX</a></td><td>SUSPENSE</td><td
+align="right">279</td></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="right"><a href="#Ch20">XX</a></td><td>THE TRAVELLER
+RETURNS</td><td align="right">294</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p class="p4"> </p>
+
+<h1>THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM</h1>
+
+<p class="p4"> </p>
+
+<h1>THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM</h1>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch1"></a>CHAPTER I</h3>
+
+<h4>MOTHER AND SON</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">The village church at Nether-Applewhite has been described
+as an interesting chapter in ecclesiastical architecture. It stands a
+little apart from the cottages upon a hill which presents something of
+the appearance of a tumulus. Part of the church is Norman, but to the
+uninstructed the outside has been mellowed by time and weather into a
+charming homogeneity. It was embellished early in the eighteenth century
+by the addition of a brick tower. The inside is likely to challenge even
+the uncritical eye. The transept is as long as the nave, and two large
+galleries arrest attention in the west end. Overlooking the chancel is
+the Squire's pew, a sort of royal opera-box, provided with chairs, a
+table, and a fireplace, not to mention a private entrance. Opposite to
+this, across the chancel, stands a three-decker pulpit of
+seventeenth-century woodwork, with a fine hexagonal canopy. On the north
+side of the steps to the chancel is a mutilated fifteenth-century
+screen.</p>
+
+<p>Squire and parson can see every member of the congregation.</p>
+
+<p>There are large pews in nave and transept occupied by the gentry and
+farmers, and many small pews which&mdash;although the seats in the
+church are spoken of as "free"&mdash;have been used habitually by
+certain cottagers. One of these pews in the nave was known as the Yellam
+pew. Sunday after Sunday, rain or shine, Susan Yellam sat bolt upright
+in her pew. Her son, Alfred, sat beside her. Mother and son were never
+guilty of missing a response, or of looking behind them, or of failing
+to contribute something in copper to the offertory<ins title="hyphen in
+the original"> </ins>plate. If a stranger happened to be conducting the
+service, and if he was so lost to a sense of duty as to display unseemly
+haste, Mrs. Yellam's voice might be heard, loud and clear, setting the
+proper pace. At the end of every prayer, her "Amen" came to be accepted,
+even by the young and thoughtless, as a grace and benediction. Always
+she wore decent black, as became a woman who had buried&mdash;in the
+churchyard outside&mdash;a husband and three children. But her Easter
+bonnet had a touch of mauve in it.</p>
+
+<p>Her clothes were not the least part of a tremendous personality.
+Children believed that she went to bed in her black gown. Authority
+exuded from every pore of her skin. Probably Boadicea was cast in just
+such a generous mould. She possessed, as will be seen presently, that
+British cocksureness which so endears us to foreigners. Her particular
+views upon religion, politics, ethics and agriculture (she tended her
+own garden admirably)&mdash;views constantly aired for the benefit of
+her neighbours&mdash;had become indurated by use. They had stood, as she
+informed all and sundry, the test of time and experience. The Parson,
+Mr. Hamlin, observed of her that she was temperamentally incapable of
+detecting the defects of her great qualities. She supported Squire and
+Parson in all that they said or did, and after the gracious lady of the
+manor was the most respected woman in Nether-Applewhite.</p>
+
+<p>Upon a certain Sunday in June, 1914, Susan Yellam sat as usual in her
+pew. Across the aisle, higher up, sat the Squire's servants, and behind
+them the Parson's three maids. Before the service began, Mrs. Yellam
+noticed that one of the maids was a stranger and not country-bred. The
+girl flaunted no finery, but the cut of her modest skirt and jacket
+proclaimed her urban. Mrs. Yellam guessed that this was Mr. Hamlin's new
+<ins title="hyphenated in the original">parlourmaid</ins> from Old
+Sarum. She might be described as pretty, but "peaky" and "spindling."
+The Squire preached eugenics, in and out of season, and upon the subject
+of young females as potential mothers Mrs. Yellam saw eye to eye with
+that genial autocrat. However, she consoled herself with the reflection
+that Nether-Applewhite air and good plain food would accomplish a much
+needed change. She hoped that the girl would not smirk or giggle if old
+Captain Davenant read the lessons, an infallible test in propriety for
+strangers. And she wondered vaguely what Alfred would think of her. For
+a season, Alfred had "walked out" with this young woman's predecessor, a
+bouncing, red-cheeked lass of the village. Nothing had come of such
+perambulations. Alfred was what the French term "un célebataire
+endurci." And he was made extremely comfortable at home. But he had
+passed his thirtieth year, and of late his mother had hinted discreetly
+that her cottage, larger than most, could accommodate three
+persons&mdash;or more.</p>
+
+<p>Her thoughts were distracted from the new parlourmaid by the arrival
+of the Squire and his party. All eyes in the church were concentrated
+upon the Squire's only son, Lionel, who brought with him his young wife,
+Joyce, the daughter of Mr. Hamlin. Mrs. Yellam knew that this had been a
+love-match, brought to a happy issue against opposition. It was known,
+also, that Master Lionel had left his regiment, the Rifle Brigade, and
+was installed as his sire's land agent. Tongues had wagged freely
+concerning a young soldier's competence for such a position. But Mrs.
+Yellam had firm faith in the lords of the soil. Master Lionel, in her
+opinion, had done the real right thing, both in his choice of a wife and
+of a calling. Perhaps to her the call of the land sounded a more clarion
+note than any other.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hamlin and the choir filed in. The congregation rose. In the days
+of Mr. Hamlin's predecessor, nobody budged from his comfortable seat
+when the parson bustled out of the vestry. Mr. Hamlin had changed all
+that. He put down billing and cooing in the galleries, and the sucking
+of peppermints. At first he was regarded with hostile eyes as an
+innovator, but gradually it became known that he had restored forms and
+ceremonies which presented definite meaning to the instructed. Villagers
+love forms and ceremonies when they are discreetly led to understand
+them.</p>
+
+<p>Old Captain Davenant read the lessons, and the new parlourmaid
+emerged triumphant from the ordeal. Mrs. Yellam noticed, too, that she
+joined in the responses, and sang the hymns in a modestly restrained,
+clear, musical voice. Later, she listened attentively to the sermon. So
+far, so good. At the same time, it became obvious to the mother that her
+son, even more than herself, was impressed by the deportment and
+behaviour of this pretty stranger. During the psalms Alfred's eyes
+strayed too often across the narrow aisle, and at sounds of a soft,
+beguiling voice he opened his mouth and left it open for a significant
+space of time.</p>
+
+<p>After church, Mrs. Yellam walked home by herself, exchanging sober
+greetings with her neighbours. Alfred lingered in the churchyard, as was
+his custom, because, being a carrier, he captured a little extra trade
+thereby. Also, although a confirmed bachelor, he liked to bandy
+pleasantries with the women, young and old, who were indeed his
+principal customers.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam, having curtsied respectfully to the Squire and his lady,
+moved majestically along the village street. As she passed the baker's a
+savoury odour of baked meats assailed her nostrils. It is said that
+smell affects the memory potently. So long as she could remember, Susan
+Yellam had connected this smell of baked meat with Divine Service. As a
+child she had fetched her Sunday dinner from the grandfather of the
+present baker, and, always, as a reward, her mother had given her a
+large lollipop. After she married, her Sunday dinner was cooked for her
+in the same oven and carried to her cottage by a small maid, who, then
+and there, received and consumed an immense bull's-eye. And it seemed to
+Mrs. Yellam a very fitting and proper thing that on Sunday the flesh
+should be as adequately nourished as the spirit. Invariably, also, on
+passing the baker's, she experienced a mournful pleasure in recalling
+her late husband's remarkable appetite. Alfred, as a trencherman, was no
+degenerate son of such a sire.</p>
+
+<p>When she reached the bend of the road, which skirts the placid Avon,
+she saw her cottage and smiled pleasantly. It was thatched, and on that
+account beloved by elderly spinsters who drew in water-colour, and
+frowned upon by sanitary inspectors. The thatch, a masterpiece of
+craftsmanship, surmounted whitewashed walls held together by stout oak
+beams black as the Ace of Spades. Generations of Yellams had lived and
+died in this cottage. Some might have lived longer&mdash;so said the
+sanitary inspectors&mdash;if the Avon, inconsiderate stream, had never
+overflowed its banks, making thereby an island of the cottage and its
+garden.</p>
+
+<p>She entered her house, and walked into the parlour, rarely used. Upon
+a round table near the window was an immense family Bible. Mrs. Yellam
+placed her prayer-book beside it, and turned to go into the kitchen,
+which served as a living-room for herself and her son. Suddenly she
+paused, went back to the table, and opened the Bible. It had belonged to
+Alfred's great-grandfather. Upon a fly-leaf were many names and
+dates&mdash;births, marriages and deaths. Her eyes lingered upon
+Alfred's name.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred Habakkuk Yellam, born November 19th, 1883.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred's father had objected to the name Habakkuk. But Alfred's
+mother had her way. A favourite brother had been so christened.</p>
+
+<p>She closed the Book. Yes; it was fully time that Alfred should marry.
+She wondered what name would be inscribed beside his.</p>
+
+<p>At the kitchen door she found waiting a small Hebe carrying a
+beef-steak pudding in a basin done up in a white napkin. Mrs. Yellam
+took the pudding from the child, placed it in the oven, after removing
+the napkin, and said wonderingly:</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever be you waiting for?"</p>
+
+<p>Hebe grinned. Young children love old jokes. Mrs. Yellam took from a
+shelf a large green bottle, shook it, and produced the expected
+bull's-eye. Hebe opened wide her mouth. Mrs. Yellam popped in the sweet.
+Hebe raced away to her own dinner. Mrs. Yellam, holding the bottle in
+her hand, stood still for a minute, watching the diminutive, diminishing
+figure till it was lost to sight. Then she turned and contemplated her
+garden smiling beneath a June sun. The midsummer heat still held
+deliciously the freshness of spring. The pervasive charm of the glorious
+month was at its highest pitch. And this stout, red-cheeked woman,
+nearing her sixtieth year, was subtly conscious of this, although
+incapable of putting thoughts into words. But dominating her sense of
+the beauty of things there remained an even more immeasurable
+satisfaction common to all women when they survey their belongings,
+great or small, a fundamental pride in possession which Tory statesmen,
+denying the vote to these supermen, have failed to take into wise
+account. Women are basically conservative, even the humblest of them.
+They cling to property, to tradition; they love the deep lanes, the very
+ruts along which they move; they clutch to their bosoms all that is
+truly theirs, beginning, of course, with their own children.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment, the Squire of the parish, Sir Geoffrey Pomfret,
+happened to be surveying his domain as seen from his own front door. And
+he had less reason behind a pride in great possession than Susan Yellam,
+inasmuch as his broad acres were an inheritance. Every vegetable and
+flower in the Yellam garden had been planted and tended by the
+proprietress. They were perfect in her eyes because of this. She had
+precisely the same feeling about Alfred, her son, whom she perceived
+leisurely approaching the comfortable home that she had made for
+him.</p>
+
+<p>She went indoors and busied herself with preparations for the most
+substantial meal of the week.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred quickened his pace as he approached the small stable which
+held his two serviceable horses and the van which plied regularly
+between Nether-Applewhite and Old Sarum. He, too, on entering the
+stable, paused to survey his possessions, but not with the same
+complacency which might have been seen upon his mother's face. Alfred
+loved his horses, and his roomy van balked dearer to him than he would
+have cared to admit, certainly as dear as the full-length Reynolds
+portrait in the dining-room of Pomfret Court was to the Squire. Both Sir
+Geoffrey and he knew that portrait and van must be sacrificed upon the
+altar of necessity. Sir Geoffrey needed twenty thousand pounds to reduce
+a crippling mortgage; Alfred, if he intended to keep and improve a good
+business, must advance with the times to the rattle of a motor. And, of
+late, whenever his mind had grappled with this insistent problem, he had
+noticed that the old van creaked more than usual, as if in protest.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred fed his horses, patted their shining necks, and went into the
+cottage to "clean up." Splashing mightily, he smelt the beef-and-kidney
+pudding. Five minutes afterwards, Mrs. Yellam said grace. Mother and son
+ate in silence till the meal was nearly over. Then Mrs. Yellam asked a
+question:</p>
+
+<p>"What be the name, Alferd, o' the new maid over to Vicarage?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy Broomfield."</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy! Wherever did she come by such a finical name as that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, Mother."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam continued, in a slightly aggressive tone:</p>
+
+<p>"I never was one to hold with queer onChristian names. It's silly,
+too, to call girls by names o' flowers. Look at Lily Pavey!"</p>
+
+<p>"I never do," affirmed Alfred.</p>
+
+<p>"Dark-complected, and no better than she should be. An' that there
+Rose Mucklow&mdash;! More like a gert carrot, seemin'ly."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred, having enjoyed "advantages," did not use the dialect of
+Wiltshire, seldom heard now except from the elderly villagers. As became
+a carrier accustomed to pick his way through country lanes, he seldom
+argued with his mother, partly because he knew that her tongue was
+sharper than his, partly, also, because he travelled, mentally, along
+lines of less resistance. On this occasion, he said curtly:</p>
+
+<p>"I like Fancy."</p>
+
+<p>"The name or the maid?" asked his mother quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Both. The name seems to match the maid."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Alferd, whatever do 'ee know about her?"</p>
+
+<p>"I brought her from Salisbury. A rare talker; she sat beside me, she
+did, and talked free and pleasant, as&mdash;as a throstle sings."</p>
+
+<p>His mother eyed him sharply. Alfred, as a rule, disdained flowers of
+speech. She proceeded more warily:</p>
+
+<p>"If so be as you know all about her, let's hear what's to tell. I'll
+say this, she behaves herself in church."</p>
+
+<p>This commendation loosened Alfred's tongue, as was intended. Very
+leisurely, between immense mouthfuls of bread and cheese, he told an
+artless tale. Fancy, it appeared, was the youngest daughter of a small
+farrier in Salisbury, and the first of three daughters to take service.
+Her father enjoyed poor health. At this Mrs. Yellam sniffed. She held
+strong opinions, like the Squire, upon eugenics. If put to it, she might
+have admitted that ill-health was apportioned by Providence to the less
+deserving. Dissenters, in her experience, suffered more from mysterious
+ailments than Church-people. Draughty, jerry-built Chapels were
+handicraft of Satan. Alfred continued. Fancy had chosen a country place,
+because she was none too robust.</p>
+
+<p>"Peaky and spindlin'," remarked Mrs. Yellam. "Is her mother
+alive?"</p>
+
+<p>"The pore soul gave up the ghost when Fancy was born."</p>
+
+<p>"That's very bad, Alferd."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred, no pessimist, answered cheerfully:</p>
+
+<p>"Might have been worse, Mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?"</p>
+
+<p>Alfred grinned.</p>
+
+<p>"She might have died before Fancy was born, and then there'd be one
+pretty maid the less in Nether-Applewhite to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Gracious! She do seem to find favour with 'ee. 'Tis wicked to wager
+money on't, but I'll lay a pound o' good butter, Alferd, that you
+disremember Mr. Hamlin's text this marning."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd win that bet, Mother. I'm bothered and moithered to
+death."</p>
+
+<p>"About this white-faced maid, Alferd?"</p>
+
+<p>"About my old van. About the horses, too. I'm far-seeing, Mother. Get
+that from you, I reckon. Yesterday, in Salisbury, I did take upon myself
+the very hateful job of looking at a motor-'bus."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam sighed. Fancy flew out of her capacious mind.</p>
+
+<p>"What be us coming to, Alferd!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. But I'm always one to make a guess. My son, maybe, 'll
+be a carrier, like his father and granfer before him; likely as not
+he'll want to sell the motor-'bus and buy a flying-machine. We all march
+on and on."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam gazed mournfully at her son. As a Christian soldier she
+believed devoutly in "marching on," but such marching implied a
+leisurely procession, not excess speed. She hated motors, because they
+rushed by, covering the foot-passengers with dust or mud according to
+the season. She had, too, an inchoate aversion to all machinery, because
+it minimised and mocked at human labour, which she respected
+inordinately. Machinery had driven able-bodied men overseas to return no
+more. She had seen certain cunning handicrafts wither and die. For
+instance, how many thatchers were left? Machinery, so she believed, had
+raised the cost of living; machinery&mdash;the ubiquitous
+locomotive&mdash;linked together disastrously town and country, filling
+the minds of maids with what she called "flummery" and covering their
+bodies with cheap finery. Machinery, had you probed her heart to its
+depths, manufactured free thought, and everything else that lured
+God-fearing persons from the old ways. It was, indeed, hateful to think
+of her Alfred driving a motor-'bus.</p>
+
+<p>She exclaimed impulsively:</p>
+
+<p>"Alferd, don't 'ee sell the horses and van."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred scratched his head, looking sheepishly at his mother. He
+understood her very well, and shared most of her cut-and-dried opinions,
+cherishing even her admonitions. All his life he had had good reason to
+respect and admire her sterling common sense, less rare amongst
+Arcadians than is generally supposed. He replied uneasily:</p>
+
+<p>"That means losing good business, Mother. Folks want more and more
+nowadays, and they want it in a hurry."</p>
+
+<p>"Leave well alone, Alferd."</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose well can't be left alone? I ain't one to complain; I'm
+grateful to the Lord for His blessings, but if another likely young
+feller started a motor-'bus, he'd down-scramble me."</p>
+
+<p>"I allow you knows best about that."</p>
+
+<p>She sighed again. He could see that she was profoundly affected. He
+went on very slowly, thinking as he spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"And there's others.... You rub it well into me that this cottage'd
+hold more than a man and his mother. If I bring the others here, I must
+think of them. I'd like to do handsomely by them as come after us.
+Mother," his voice trembled a little, "it's more to me than you think
+for, but the old van must go. Our folk won't stay homealong. I'll do a
+big business carrying people instead of parcels."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam rose.</p>
+
+<p>"If you give me they others, Alferd, I'll put up with this wondersome
+change. God's ways be our ways, if we look humbly into 'em. I did hear
+tell t'other day of a motor-hearse. Don't 'ee carry me to my grave in
+one!"</p>
+
+<p>Alfred solemnly reassured her, and began to fill his pipe.</p>
+
+<p>As a rule, he took a Sunday nap after dinner, whilst his mother was
+washing up. At three, he would stroll along the village street,
+combining business with pleasure, picking up gossip and booking orders
+for the coming week. Later, he might walk in the park with a companion,
+not always of the opposite sex. He liked a wit-sharpening talk with a
+man, sensible, perhaps, that his own wits had not too sharp an edge to
+them. The women of the village were unanimous in pronouncing him a true
+Yellam. All the men of his family were good to look
+on&mdash;stoutly-built fellows, broad-sterned and broad-shouldered, slow
+of speech and movement, slow, too, to wrath, patient under adversity and
+modest under prosperity, solid and stolid, kind to animals and children,
+and racy of the soil.</p>
+
+<p>Upon this particular Sunday, Alfred took the high-road earlier than
+usual. Fate, rather than inclination, directed his steps towards the
+Vicarage. For the moment his van and a pair of horses filled his mind.
+Back of these lay a pleasant wish to pass the time of day with Fancy
+Broomfield. No doubt she was feeling very homesick. He wondered what she
+would have to say upon the subject of motor-'buses. He divined in her a
+vein of sentiment, which appealed to him the more strongly because it
+was absent in the red-cheeked, bouncing girl whom he had considered,
+temporarily, as a future wife. From her he had escaped&mdash;thank the
+Lord!</p>
+
+<p>Alfred reached the village in five minutes. It was a source of pride
+to his mother and himself that their cottage was isolated. Such
+isolation carried with it a certain distinction, an immunity from
+derisive comment upon the Monday's washing, and the shrill voices of
+scolding wives, and the howling of babies. The Yellams' cottage always
+smelled sweet. There were no neighbours to pop in at unseasonable hours
+to borrow unconsidered trifles which they had no intention of
+returning.</p>
+
+<p>Nether-Applewhite was regarded by the Squire as a model village,
+delightfully old-fashioned in appearance but brought up-to-date by a
+judicious expenditure of time and money. The passing traveller admired
+the width of the main street which meandered north and south, following
+the course of the Avon. Some of the cottages had been built in the
+sixteenth century, or, possibly, at an even earlier date. Some were, as
+obviously, modern, but not, on that account, unpleasing to the more
+critical, for harmony had been aimed at and achieved. The high
+note&mdash;<i>la note qui chante</i>&mdash;was the curious thatching of
+the roofs, some of them miracles of cunning craftsmanship. The tiny
+gardens blazed with colour, because the lady of the manor loved flowers
+and bestowed handsome prizes, each year, upon the most successful of
+many competitors. Stocks, red-hot-pokers, larkspur, polyanthus, peonies
+and dahlias caught the eye which was lured back to the humbler beauties
+of mignonette, forget-me-not, love-in-idleness, and a generous profusion
+of roses.</p>
+
+<p>Few villagers were abroad, but Alfred Yellam bagged a brace of orders
+and exchanged banter with half-a-dozen young men loafing near the main
+bridge across the Avon. Amongst these happened to be a soldier, looking
+very smart in a kilt and white spats. Soldiers were not too highly
+esteemed in Nether-Applewhite. This particular specimen was the son of a
+notorious poacher, and till now regarded by the fathers of the hamlet as
+a ne'er-do-well. To-day, he carried himself handsomely, turning a bold,
+bronzed face upon all beholders. He spoke civilly to Alfred and enquired
+after his mother. He had just come back from India with his regiment,
+and was entertaining an appreciative audience with Eastern tales spiced
+like the breezes that blow from Ceylon.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred listened to him, marvelling at the change in the man.
+Presently, he essayed a mild jest:</p>
+
+<p>"You were a rare runner after the petticoats, Harry, but I never
+thought you'd live to wear 'em."</p>
+
+<p>Bucolic laughter greeted this sally. Harry laughed as gaily as the
+others.</p>
+
+<p>"You may come to it, Alfred Yellam, if what I hear tell of comes
+true."</p>
+
+<p>"And whatever might that be, Harry?"</p>
+
+<p>"War, Alfred, war such as you fellers never dreamed of."</p>
+
+<p>"What a tale!"</p>
+
+<p>Harry surveyed the group critically:</p>
+
+<p>"A bit o' drill'd make men o' some of 'ee." He broke into a lusty
+barrack-room ditty&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+  <span class="i1">"It's One&mdash;Two&mdash;ten times a day,</span>
+  <span class="i2">And now that you 'ave got it,</span>
+  <span class="i2">Don't yer give it away&mdash;!</span>
+  <span class="i2">ONE&mdash;TWO&mdash;ten times a day,</span>
+  <span class="i2">When I was in the timid, orkard squad, boys."</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Alfred said solemnly:</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't one to deny that wars may come. And you were always a good
+fighter, Harry, but we are men o' peace."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay," said one of the group, "I never did fancy soldierin'."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred said slily:</p>
+
+<p>"William ain't yet forgiven a Hampshire redcoat who walked out and
+off, by Golly! with his girl."</p>
+
+<p>Having fired this shot, Alfred walked on. In his mind he turned over
+the thought of war, such a war as he, indeed, had never dreamed of in
+maddest nightmare. And the words and tune of the barrack-room ditty
+echoed through the cells of his brain. He wondered vaguely whether he
+could stick such dire discipline&mdash;ten times a day. Wouldn't he up
+and smite the sergeant to mother earth with his big fists, which
+clenched themselves at the mere thought of such a treadmill? Then he
+reflected comfortably that England's fleet sailed gloriously between him
+and such a possibility. The Squire belonged to the blue-water school. So
+did the Parson. Alfred muttered to himself:</p>
+
+<p>"They talk that way because they know no better, pore souls!"</p>
+
+<p>A carrier had other things to worry about.</p>
+
+<p>Approaching the Vicarage by the back way, he heard a woman's voice.
+He stood still. Tender modulations fluttered, like doves of peace, out
+of the pantry window. Alfred smiled.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">"'Tis she, the pretty dear! Talks and sings just like a
+throstle."</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch2"></a>CHAPTER II</h3>
+
+<h4>FANCY BROOMFIELD</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Fancy Broomfield left Salisbury for Nether-Applewhite with
+a heavy heart not hidden by a pathetic smile. Possibly Alfred Yellam had
+a glimpse of unshed tears, when she took her place beside him in his
+van. And his ears may have caught a poignant note of distress quavering
+now and again beneath her prattle. Country folk are observant, although
+they keep their observations to themselves. Fancy had been happy at
+home. When she took a place in Salisbury, in the time-honoured Cathedral
+Close, she saw her people frequently. As she moved farther from
+Salisbury, she was grievously conscious of what separation from her
+father included. The fact that he was failing in health, and therefore
+in fortune, punctuated her misgivings. Alfred won her confidence with a
+few curt words about her new place and its master. He did not mention
+her bouncing predecessor, but he talked of the Parson and his household
+with the incisive tones of one who knew. What he said was reassuring.
+Most maidservants approach a new place with justifiable apprehensions
+concerning the mistress. In this case there was no mistress. Possibly
+disagreeable fellow-servants may arouse even livelier forebodings. A
+cook, for example, holds the keys of Heaven and Hell in her hands. Fancy
+had envisaged an immense cook with a great red face, and a liver swollen
+to atrabiliar disproportions. She was pleased to learn that the autocrat
+of the Parson's kitchen was not much larger than herself and
+consistently amiable.</p>
+
+<p>"Parson preaches against sour faces," said Alfred. "No yapping and
+snarling in his house. From your looks, you ain't one to come
+slummicking in after hours with a silly tale about being took all over
+queer when out walking."</p>
+
+<p>"My! no," affirmed Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred digested this in silence. Fancy had already told him much
+about her family, but she had not mentioned others. Presently, Alfred
+said abruptly:</p>
+
+<p>"Have you got a young man in Salisbury?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy laughed for the first time, a silvery trickle of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should you think I have, Mr. Yellam?"</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me likely."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I am fond of one boy. He's too sweet for anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'd like you to meet him. Maybe I'll show you his photograph
+one fine day. It's in my trunk. He's a sailor-boy, and at sea."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah. At sea, is he? My mother says that a woman is silly to marry a
+sailor. Why? Because, if you love him, he is always at sea, and if you
+hate him, he bides at home."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy laughed again.</p>
+
+<p>"Then my boy, after he marries, will be always at sea. How miserable
+for his wife!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is a fair warning."</p>
+
+<p>"For me, Mr. Yellam?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean, if you marry your sailor-boy."</p>
+
+<p>"But I can't marry my own dear brother."</p>
+
+<p>And then Alfred laughed, Homerically.</p>
+
+<p>Soon afterwards, he left her and a modest box at the Vicarage. She
+thanked him demurely, asking how much she owed him. Alfred was tempted
+to demand a kiss in payment, but a glance at a virginal face restrained
+him. He said, "One shilling, please, miss," and she slipped the coin
+into his ample palm, adding: "It's a new one. That brings luck, don't
+it?" Alfred indulged in no speculations on this point, but when he found
+himself alone, he examined the loose change in his pocket, and picking
+out a new shilling, transferred it to another pocket, wondering
+furtively if he were making a fool of himself. He whistled gaily as he
+drove on.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy was shown to a small room, which pleased her immensely, because
+no other maid shared it with her. From a casemented window, she could
+see the park of Pomfret Court, with its clumps of fine trees and its
+herds of dappled deer. She felt that she would be happy in such a quiet
+place. The room was very simply but comfortably furnished, spotlessly
+clean and fresh. She admired the wall-paper, white with small sprigs of
+pink roses on it. What a lucky girl to have such a nice room! And,
+approaching the Vicarage, she had fallen in love with the many-gabled
+house standing amongst beeches, a warm-looking house of time-mellowed
+brick, built substantially, happily situated below the church and just
+above the village. As she was unpacking, the house-maid, Molly, brought
+her a cup of tea. Being her first day, Fancy was not expected to wait at
+dinner, but Molly told her that after dinner she would be sent for, and
+that she might expect a five-minute chat with her master.</p>
+
+<p>"Is he masterful?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>Molly nodded, adding confidentially:</p>
+
+<p>"Such a pair of eyes as never was. Gimlets! It ain't no fun lying to
+him, and no use either. He can look bang through a pore girl, and tell
+her what she's had for dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you worry! 'Tis an easy place. No SHE poking and prying about.
+Only we have to be good girls here, and then we're happy."</p>
+
+<p>"I do hope I shall be happy," said Fancy, adding hastily, "I look
+such a fright when I ain't."</p>
+
+<p>After dinner she was duly sent for, and found the Parson walking up
+and down his study. He regarded her austerely, bidding her welcome to
+his house. Fancy noticed at once the keenness of his glance, and the
+still more penetrating quality of his voice. First impressions count
+enormously with sensitive creatures, and young women in Fancy's station
+of life are not much concerned with shades and gradations. To most of
+them men are angels or devils, black or white. Fancy had encountered
+what she called "devils" in Salisbury, rough fellows with Rabelaisian
+jests upon their thick lips. From such she shrank instinctively. Happily
+for her, she had met the other sort in and out of the Cathedral Close.
+Instantly, she acclaimed Mr. Hamlin as angel, a rather terrible angel,
+such as she imagined Saint Michael to be, pitiless to the wicked,
+smiting them hip and thigh with a flaming sword. Her second impression,
+not quite so vivid, was more agreeable. The Parson's clothes were
+shabby, and his study, which, indeed, reflected truthfully the man's
+personality, presented a somewhat bleak aspect. It looked a workshop
+rather than a comfortable room. The cocoanut matting was worn; plain
+deal shelves held innumerable cheaply-bound books; pamphlets were piled
+upon the floor; the chairs, with one exception, were not upholstered.
+She blushed a little as the thought came to her that she, the new
+parlourmaid, not yet in working kit, was the smartest object in her
+master's room.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hamlin asked her a few questions. Fancy had good references; she
+was a Churchwoman; she had been confirmed by Sarum himself. She belonged
+to the Girls' Friendly Society. Did she like her work? Yes. Mr. Hamlin
+smiled. For a moment Saint Michael vanished and a less terrifying
+personage stood in his place.</p>
+
+<p>"I like <i>my</i> work," said the Parson incisively. "That is a vital
+matter. Perhaps it is the most vital matter in the world. Each of us has
+his or her work, and if we do it gladly it is well with us. You don't
+look very strong."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm much stronger than I look, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Her soft, deprecating voice brought another smile to the Parson's
+lips. He said abruptly:</p>
+
+<p>"Good. Women need all their strength and reserves of strength. Your
+work here will not be too hard. Spare yourself whenever you reasonably
+can, and so you will serve me and yourself the better. Good-night."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy went away, slightly awed, but feeling much more comfortable.
+Before going to bed, she wrote a short letter to her father, telling him
+that she liked her place. She added a postscript: "Mr. Yellam, the
+carrier, was ever so kind to me."</p>
+
+<p>She slept well in a comfortable bed.</p>
+
+<p>She came to Nether-Applewhite on a Thursday. On the following Sunday,
+as Alfred Yellam had foreseen, she was feeling homesick, because she had
+never failed to see her own people on that day. After luncheon, to
+hearten herself up, she sang hymns in the pantry.</p>
+
+<p>Her face brightened, when she perceived Alfred at the door of the
+pantry. After asking her how she fared, and learning that the other
+maids were "out," he said, in business-like tones:</p>
+
+<p>"Any orders for the carrier?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy smiled demurely. She was alone in the house. The Parson had a
+Children's Service at three. She guessed that, as a rule, carriers did
+not call for orders at such an hour.</p>
+
+<p>"Not as I know of, Mr. Yellam. Do you generally call for orders on
+Sunday afternoon?"</p>
+
+<p>By this time she had been informed of Alfred's perambulations with
+her predecessor. It might be an honoured custom in Nether-Applewhite for
+the carrier to walk out with the Vicarage parlourmaid. Alfred gave a
+guffaw.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, no; I took a notion to drop in, casual-like, to pass the time
+of day."</p>
+
+<p>"What would the Vicar say to that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Parson ain't the fearsome man you take him to be. A very human
+gentleman, always welcome in our house. And I make bold to tell you that
+I'm heartily welcome in his."</p>
+
+<p>"If that is so," said Fancy, politely, "won't you sit down, Mr.
+Yellam?"</p>
+
+<p>She indicated a chair into which Alfred bumped massively, with the
+air of one not to be budged from an impregnable position. Fancy was
+getting ready some dainty tea-things.</p>
+
+<p>"Expecting company, miss?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Mr. Lionel Pomfret and Mrs. Pomfret. A nice tea. Master's
+orders."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred nodded. He eyed Fancy with ever-increasing approval. A black
+gown, with snowy apron, bib, and cap, became her admirably. Beneath the
+cap her soft brown hair lay in shining ripples; the bib lent extra
+fulness to a too thin bosom; her big hazel eyes sparkled with animation;
+her pale cheeks had a tinge of pink in them. Alfred contrasted her
+delicate features with the exuberant comeliness of the late parlourmaid.
+Charm was not a word very distinctly defined in his vocabulary. But he
+became conscious of Fancy's charm, although he would have called it by
+another name. Certainly she was sweetly pretty, like a rose-leaf which a
+rough wind might blow away. More than aught else, too, he was struck by
+her little hands, which moved deftly and swiftly. He made sure that she
+was a good needlewoman. Such hands could make light pastry. All this
+pleased him tremendously. Fancy prattled on about the company expected,
+telling Alfred what he knew already, but he listened in silence,
+captivated by her voice. She cut dexterously some thin slices of brown
+bread-and-butter, as she spoke of the love-match between Squire's son
+and Parson's daughter.</p>
+
+<p>"I am looking forward to waiting on them," she declared.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;a very handsome, notable couple. Squire'll be a granfer
+before he knows where he is."</p>
+
+<p>"What things you do say, Mr. Yellam!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! In my common way, I say what I think, never meaning offence,
+particularly to young maids, but 'tis a fact Sir Geoffrey is fair aching
+for grandchildren, the more the merrier. 'Twould be terrible if his
+house and lands passed to some measly next-of-kin. But we won't think of
+that."</p>
+
+<p>"No. Not yet, at any rate."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred felt reproved but not disconcerted. It might be politic to
+change the talk to motor-'buses, so he said abruptly:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm in a fair sweat, Miss Fancy."</p>
+
+<p>"Mercy me! Shall I fetch you a glass of water?"</p>
+
+<p>"Figure of speech, miss. It's like this, if you'll excuse me talking
+of my own affairs."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I like that. It's so&mdash;so friendly of you, Mr. Yellam."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm standing betwixt the devil and the deep sea."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I never!"</p>
+
+<p>He gazed so earnestly at Fancy that she wondered if she were the deep
+sea, and that the devil was an allusion to the late parlourmaid. Alfred
+continued:</p>
+
+<p>"The world, miss, goes round and round for true lovers, but it don't
+stand still for anybody, leastways not for carriers. We must push along
+with the times, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at her anxiously. She was quick to perceive that he wanted
+counsel and much flattered thereby. She eyed him as keenly as he, just
+now, had eyed her. Being so frail and attenuated herself, his massive
+form and square head attracted her strangely. She admired his big chin
+and too heavy nose. And her eyes lingered with appreciation upon the
+bulging biceps and deltoids shewing strongly beneath his thin summer
+jacket. What a sad pity that her dear father had not been cast in such a
+mould! To his anxious question, she replied with a little bob of her
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"My father and granfer were carriers before me. Van and horses was
+good enough for them. And good enough for me, too. It tears me to scrap
+'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Scrap them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ay. When you go back home, how'd it suit you to ride in a
+motor-'bus?"</p>
+
+<p>"It would be grand," said Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred rubbed his hands; his red face beamed.</p>
+
+<p>"Dang me, if that don't put the lid on it."</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon, Mr. Yellam?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was half hoping you'd say what you did. Yes&mdash;it would be
+grand. A nice 'bus&mdash;red and yaller&mdash;'d make the neighbours yap
+a bit. Do you know what they call my old van?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's a nice comfortable van."</p>
+
+<p>"So 'tis. But would-be funny folks call it 'Flash o' Lightnin'.'"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy laughed. Alfred decided that it was a treat to hear her
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you angry with me for laughing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lord&mdash;no! A laugh like yours warms the cockles of my heart.
+Laugh away, miss. All the same, there's a meaning in what neighbours
+say. I do move slow, when I've a load. And in winter-time, when roads
+are heavy, I just crawl along. You're right. A motor-'bus <i>is</i>
+grand. And I can pay cash for one, I can."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke with pride, opening his large hands. Fancy, having finished
+cutting the bread-and-butter, sat down opposite to Alfred. With some
+difficulty he mastered the impulse to invite this bird-like creature to
+perch on his knee. Her air of aloofness both pleased and exasperated
+him. She sat very still, with her hands folded upon her lap, just as
+good girls sat in church. Alfred talked with gusto about
+motor-'buses.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you drive a motor?" asked Fancy, when he paused to mop his
+forehead with a huge red bandana.</p>
+
+<p>"No, miss. But if I say it as shouldn't, I can do most anything when
+I try. They'll teach me in Salisbury&mdash;free, gratis and for nothing,
+if I buy the 'bus."</p>
+
+<p>"I do hope you'll be careful, Mr. Yellam."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred was delighted at this mark of solicitude. For the moment
+nothing more was to be said. He searched his mind for another suitable
+topic of conversation. Already he had decided to ask Fancy to walk out
+with him, but he feared a rebuff. It was "up" to him to shew her his
+paces. Any premature love-making might be disastrous. Nevertheless, it
+behoved him to waste no time in making himself agreeable. Half-a-dozen
+likely young fellows would be fluttering about Fancy before the week was
+out. First come, first served. He essayed a fresh flight:</p>
+
+<p>"Coming through village, miss, I met a soldier&mdash;'No Account
+Harry' we used to call him. Back from the Indies, and spruced up
+wonderful."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy exhibited lively interest.</p>
+
+<p>"A soldier, Mr. Yellam! I do like soldiers,
+because&mdash;because&mdash;&mdash;" Her voice melted on a silence; her
+cheeks shewed a deeper pink.</p>
+
+<p>"Do tell, miss. Why do you like&mdash;soldiers?"</p>
+
+<p>"You'll think me such a silly."</p>
+
+<p>"Not me. I'm no mumbudgetter. What you tell me I'll keep to
+myself."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes dwelt steadily on his. In a lower voice, she asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you believe in fortune-telling, Mr. Yellam?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know as I do. But I don't know as I don't."</p>
+
+<p>"I do. And&mdash;maybe the Vicar wouldn't like this&mdash;I can tell
+fortunes myself with cards."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I never!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. About three months ago, a lady came to Salisbury and lodged
+near us. She told fortunes with cards; she taught me. She didn't do it
+for money. Now, if you laugh, I'll never forgive you...."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred became portentously solemn.</p>
+
+<p>"The lady told me that I should marry a soldier."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred looked perturbed, but his shrewd sense sustained him.</p>
+
+<p>"Did she? Likely as not she'd seen you walking out with one."</p>
+
+<p>"I have never walked out with a soldier."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred looked unhappy. He thought of the well-set-up Highlander. He
+beheld Fancy hanging on his arm, gazing upward into a bronzed,
+devil-may-care face, listening to strange tales of the Orient. Jealousy
+ravaged him. His dejection deepened when he discovered that his tongue
+had lost the trick of speech. He yearned to speak lightly and
+facetiously about soldiers. But he could think of nothing better than
+this:</p>
+
+<p>"Soldiers are soldiers."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy read him easily. Her father distrusted soldiers, who loved and
+ran away. He had warned her against their beguilements. But Fancy had
+read English history, more intelligently than most girls of similar
+upbringing. She knew what soldiers had done for England. Also, she had
+eye for a bit of colour. Soldiers appealed to her imagination. She put
+sailors first, the jolly tars. Tommy came next, with his swagger cane,
+his jaunty walk, and his cap cocked on one side, shewing a "quiff"
+beneath.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do men, like you, Mr. Yellam, despise soldiers?"</p>
+
+<p>Alfred wriggled, impaled upon this barbed hook. He had wit enough to
+realise that serious issues impended. He might easily offend Fancy. And
+no answer rose pat to his tongue. Why did he despise soldiers? He was
+too honest to deny the indictment. Yes; he did despise soldiers. He
+answered stolidly:</p>
+
+<p>"There are soldiers and soldiers. 'Tis sober truth, miss, that the
+best men in these parts don't enlist. The pay is bad, and the work hard.
+The wrong 'uns take the shilling only when they're driven to it. It may
+be different in Salisbury."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know that it is. I can understand why men like you, Mr.
+Yellam, don't enlist. Why should you? But that doesn't change my
+feelings about soldiers. Whatever they may have been, whatever they are,
+I think of this: At any moment, with their hard work, with their poor
+pay, they may be called upon to give their lives for&mdash;us."</p>
+
+<p>Her soft voice faltered. Perhaps Alfred was already in love. He may
+have been. When her voice failed, and he beheld her for the first time
+as a woman of sensibilities, tender for others, pleading for the less
+fortunate, all that was best in him leaped into being. Nothing but his
+disability to find words for his thoughts prevented him from avowing his
+feelings. He realised instantly that here sat the girl for him, the wife
+he wanted. His experiments in courtship, if you could term it that,
+confirmed his conviction that he had remained single so long simply
+because Fancy was waiting for him. She was absolutely right because the
+others had been as absolutely wrong.</p>
+
+<p>"That's true," he heard himself saying.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy went on in a livelier tone:</p>
+
+<p>"Have you read Kipling, Mr. Yellam?"</p>
+
+<p>"I seem to have heard tell of Mr. Rudyard Kipling in the
+newspapers."</p>
+
+<p>"I want to tell you what he said about soldiers."</p>
+
+<p>She quoted slowly:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+ <span class="i0">"It's Tommy this, and Tommy that, and Tommy&mdash;go
+   away!</span>
+ <span class="i0">But it's&mdash;Thank you, Mr. Atkins, when the band
+   begins to play."</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Alfred was visibly impressed. He recalled the Highlander's words
+about war, such a war as he had never dreamed of. What if the band did
+begin to play? More, it surprised him that Fancy should quote Kipling.
+Obviously, she had enjoyed educational advantages denied to him. She
+spoke like the quality. He began to measure the distance between them,
+conscious of shrinkage in himself. To gain time he repeated her last
+words:</p>
+
+<p>"When the band begins to play! 'No Account Harry' spoke of that, yes,
+he did. But war is for kings and potentates, not for us. As I came along
+river, I says to myself: 'We have peace here, glory be to our noble
+Fleet!' It gives me a mort of comfort thinking of our mighty ships. And
+I remember what Parson said not so long ago. 'You working-men,' he says,
+'are the backbone of England.' And, by Golly! I stiffened myself
+accordingly."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy smiled, and said no more. She glanced at the pantry clock.
+Alfred rose. His face was redder than usual, as he held out his hand. It
+consoled him mightily to reflect that "No Account Harry," by virtue or
+vice of an unsavoury record, would hardly dare to stick his tip-tilted
+nose into the Vicarage.</p>
+
+<p>"So long, Miss Fancy. Would it be called presumption, if I made so
+bold as to ask you to take the air with me next Sunday? 'Tis wonderful
+pretty in the Park, and I'd like to shew you the fat bullocks."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy blushed, for he was squeezing her small hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like it very much," she replied simply.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred asked for no more, wise man! He had squeezed her hand, and she
+had not resented it, although her slim fingers lay calm and cool within
+his ardent clasp. She accompanied him to the back door. In the lapel of
+his jacket Alfred sported one of his mother's roses. He presented it to
+Fancy in silence&mdash;and fled. As he passed into the park, intending
+to map out a pilgrimage for the following Sunday, he thought
+complacently:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm a forcible man. Neighbours say that, and 'tis so. She's a dinky
+maid, bless her!"</p>
+
+<p>With eager strides he mounted the gentle slope of the long escarpment
+between Pomfret Vicarage and Pomfret Court, keeping to the right of the
+main drive. The path he followed meandered through a plantation.
+Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a pair of lovers strolling arm in
+crook, with love in their eyes and laughter on their lips. He recognised
+Lionel Pomfret and his bride. Alfred plunged into the hazels and let
+them pass. When the coast was clear he took the path again, skirting the
+Court and the Home Farm, and, ultimately, debouching upon the downs.
+Warmed by his walk, he removed his hat and fanned himself with it. Then
+he sat down and let his eyes wander across the landscape.</p>
+
+<p>How fair it was upon that midsummer's afternoon!</p>
+
+<p>A soft haze slightly obscured the water meadows. Through it he could
+see the Avon, a silvery riband. In the far distance the finest spire in
+the world soared into palely blue skies. The breeze from the land had
+died down. Presently the breeze from the sea would stir, tremulously,
+the grasses at his feet. Sheep were grazing hard by. Some of them rested
+in the shade of the yews which fringed the top of the down. Immediately
+below him stretched the park. Under the clumps of beeches stood the
+fallow deer. Beyond were the lawns of Pomfret Court, flanked by ancient
+elms and oaks and horse-chestnuts. Between the masses of translucent
+foliage, the façade of the house glowed faintly red as if the sunbeams
+penetrating the bricks during nearly four hundred years were now
+radiating from them.</p>
+
+<p>All this to Alfred&mdash;and to how many others&mdash;was the outward
+and visible sign of peace, a peace sanctified by time and the labour of
+countless hands. That such a peace could be imperilled passed the
+understanding of wiser men than the carrier. Surely it would endure till
+the end, till eternity.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">For ever and ever&mdash;Amen!</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch3"></a>CHAPTER III</h3>
+
+<h4>INTRODUCING MRS. MUCKLOW</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Susan Yellam rarely left her cottage, and, during
+week-days, was not too cordial to chance visitors. On Sunday afternoon,
+however, she was at home to friends, and hospitably glad to offer them
+the best cup of tea in Nether-Applewhite, and some hot buttered toast
+which waited for nobody. If a too nice stomach disdained buttered toast,
+the pangs of hunger could be alleviated with bread and honey (from the
+hives in the garden) or bread and jam (of Mrs. Yellam's own making). A
+rich cake was in cut.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam had been a Mucklow. And her favourite brother, Habakkuk,
+had married a Rockley&mdash;all of Nether-Applewhite. Mrs. Mucklow
+generally dropped in on Sunday afternoons, bringing a grievance with
+her. The Mucklows had not prospered like the Yellams and Rockleys. And
+this was the more remarkable because the Mucklow men were fine
+upstanding fellows, reasonably sober, and God-fearing Churchgoers. The
+ancients of the village affirmed that the brains of the family had been
+served out in one lump, and given to Susan Yellam.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the Sunday following Alfred's visit to the Vicarage, Mrs.
+Mucklow, wearing black silk and a bonnet, dropped into the cottage. She
+was taller than her sister-in-law, and very thin. Invariably she
+disagreed with everything said by Mrs. Yellam, and yet, oddly enough,
+the two women remained friends, partly because Susan believed devoutly
+in the ties of blood, and partly because Jane's rather fatuous
+contradictions shed searchlights upon Susan's commonsense. Wisdom is
+comfortably bolstered by the folly of others.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Jane, how be you?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow answered dolorously:</p>
+
+<p>"I be no better than I was las' Sunday."</p>
+
+<p>"That's bad."</p>
+
+<p>"No, it ain't. I expected to be worse. Very soon I shall be lying
+along o' Mother. She suffered wi' her innards, pore soul, just as I
+do."</p>
+
+<p>"She got comfort out of it, too, just as you do, dear. Sit you down,
+and let's hear the news."</p>
+
+<p>Jane Mucklow sighed, and sat down. Unlike her sister-in-law, she
+strayed daily into the cottages of her neighbours, picking up gossip,
+and repeating it with embellishments of her own. As she removed white
+cotton gloves, she said sharply:</p>
+
+<p>"I want your news first, Susan."</p>
+
+<p>"But I haven't any, Jane; nothing, that is to say, which you don't
+well know already."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe. But I wanted it from your own lips."</p>
+
+<p>"Bless the woman! Whatever do 'ee want?"</p>
+
+<p>"What you prides yourself on giving&mdash;information. Don't sit
+there so genteel, and pretend to me that you don't know what your Alferd
+be up to this very minute!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't&mdash;and nor do you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, I do. Your Alferd was over to Vicarage las' Sunday. To-day,
+he's traipsin' the Park with Miss Fancy Broomfield."</p>
+
+<p>From her pronunciation of the name, it was quite evident that the
+young person in question was not what diplomats call <i>gratissima</i>
+to Mrs. Mucklow. And the sniff that followed was aggressive. Mrs. Yellam
+poured out a large cup of tea with an impassive face. Inwardly, she
+winced. Alfred had kept his plans to himself, doing so, moreover, in
+accordance with advice well rubbed into him ever since he had affairs of
+his own to attend to. But a mother&mdash;and such a mother&mdash;might
+be deemed an exception to a golden rule. Mrs. Yellam said calmly:</p>
+
+<p>"Is he? Who is your Rose walking out wi'?"</p>
+
+<p>The question was ungrammatical and unkind. Rose, large, plain, and
+red-headed, sighed for swains who did not walk out with her. She might
+have been comfortably married to Alfred at this minute. The older
+families in Nether-Applewhite fancied intermarriage, much to the
+exasperation of Sir George Pomfret. And so far&mdash;the stock being
+exceptionally sound&mdash;no great evil had come of this. Within the
+year Prudence Rockley had married her first cousin. In Mrs. Mucklow's
+opinion marriages between near of kin were preferable to alliances with
+outsiders. Town girls, she regarded, not without reason, as hussies.</p>
+
+<p>"My Rose be a good girl, and well you knows it."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe you have something agen this Fancy Broomfield? If so, Jane,
+out wi' it."</p>
+
+<p>"Townbred girls be all alike."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam replied tranquilly:</p>
+
+<p>"I bain't an upholder o' they, but I keep faith in my Alferd's good
+sense and judgment. He's walked out wi' a baker's dozen o' maids afore
+this 'un, and why not? I've allers told Alferd to pick an' choose."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow attacked the buttered toast almost viciously.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis true, I suppose, that his father's van ain't good enough for
+<i>your</i> son?"</p>
+
+<p>Inwardly Mrs. Yellam winced again. Alfred had made his decision "on
+his own." But she answered as tranquilly as before:</p>
+
+<p>"Seemin'ly it ain't. God A'mighty knows what us be coming to, and He
+don't tell. As a Christian woman I bows afore Him."</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mrs. Mucklow, continually contrasting the prosperity of Alfred
+with the ill-luck, as she deemed it, of her own three sons, sniffed
+again. Not long since the three Mucklows had contemplated emigration to
+Canada. They had been anchored in Nether-Applewhite by Mr. Fishpingle,
+sometime butler to Sir Geoffrey, now bailiff at the Home Farm. They
+happened to pursue avocations such as hurdling, spar-making, hedging and
+ditching, which were precariously dependent upon a demand that varied
+tremendously, a demand that, year by year, shewed inexorable signs of
+failing. And Mrs. Mucklow was uneasily conscious that her sons' ill luck
+was regarded by her sister-in-law as part of a Divine dispensation. In
+the same complacent spirit the good-luck of Alfred became, in Susan
+Yellam's eyes, a mark of Divine favour. It may be imagined how this
+rankled in the heart of a woman who held herself to be as good a
+Christian as her neighbours, and perhaps better. Mrs. Mucklow retorted
+tartly:</p>
+
+<p>"You be allers shovin' your Christian feelin's down our throats,
+Susan. But I say this&mdash;you ain't been tried as I hev."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam dealt with this drastically.</p>
+
+<p>"I be thankful for God's mercies. I might be less thankful if so be
+as I mixed up my victuals as you do. Faith in A'mighty God have more to
+do wi' the stomach than most folks think on. As for being tried&mdash;I
+tend four graves in churchyard to your one."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow's small beady eyes softened.</p>
+
+<p>"Yas&mdash;you've had your sore trials, Susan. And the graves be a
+credit to 'ee. But I've said it afore, and I say it again, small
+fam'lies make for righteousness. Keepin' my childern in shoe-leather
+alone took a deal o' saintliness out o' me. Be that cake?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hopes so. Have a slice?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your rich cake allers lies heavy on my pore stomach, but 'twould be
+ungenteel to refuse."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam cut a large slice. As Mrs. Mucklow consumed it, Mrs.
+Yellam said impressively:</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell 'ee something, Jane, as betwixt us two. I ain't one to
+brag unduly, and 'tis true that I be proud o' my Christian feelings. For
+why? Because, long ago, I come mighty near to losing 'em."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow gasped; a piece of cake stuck in her throat.</p>
+
+<p>"I never did! Come near to losin' 'em, did 'ee?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas." Mrs. Yellam's voice became solemn. "When I buried my pore
+husband...."</p>
+
+<p>"That was a rare funeral, Susan. Squire and my lady there, flowers
+from the Hall, a very moving set-out. Was I interrupting of 'ee?"</p>
+
+<p>"You was, Jane, but never mind. As I laid my husband to rest, I says
+to myself: 'The Lard gave and the Lard ha' taken away.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Very proper."</p>
+
+<p>"The pore man suffered so bad with rheumatics that it seemed God's
+mercy to take 'un. He'd no pleasure in life onless he were talking of
+his aches and pains. And allers the misery o' telling me what he'd like
+to eat an' drink&mdash;and couldn't. That fair tore him, and me. He was
+a rare doer, like Alferd. When he was taken, I did not rebel."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow was so interested that she suspended operations with the
+cake, awaiting the climax of an astounding tale, arrested by a strange
+expression upon her sister-in-law's face. The pupils of Mrs. Yellam's
+eyes seemed to contract; her lips became set. She continued very
+impressively:</p>
+
+<p>"When my children died, 'twas different. Seemed to me like as if I
+was buryin' part o' myself. 'Twere bad enough when the two boys went,
+but when Lizzie sickened, my own lil' maid, why then, Jane, I did
+rebel."</p>
+
+<p>"And no wonder!"</p>
+
+<p>"I watched her slippin' away, and I says, 'No more churchgoin'.'"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow repeated the words:</p>
+
+<p>"No more churchgoing&mdash;! That, from you? I be shaken to my beam
+ends."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam went on, in the same cold, incisive voice:</p>
+
+<p>"We be told, Jane, that the Lard chastens him whom He loves, but we
+read elsewhere in the holy Book that He chastises them as He hates. When
+Lizzie died I'd the blasphemeous notion that God A'mighty hated me. And
+then my faith went a-flutterin' out o' winder. I lay in bed two Sundays,
+because I dassn't go into my pew. I never spoke to nobody. Yas&mdash;I
+lay abed, fighting Satan. He tempted me rarely."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! You be tellin' a wondersome tale, Susan. Satan nearly had
+me, near as no matter, when I was a maid. He came gallivantin' along in
+a red coat...."</p>
+
+<p>"A soldier?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, a fox-hunting young gentleman. 'Tis a subject I don't care to
+think about. How did Satan tempt you, Susan?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wi' a brandy-bottle. It stood there makin' eyes at me...."</p>
+
+<p>"For all the world like my young gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>"What saved you, Jane?"</p>
+
+<p>"I dunno'. It might ha' been God A'mighty's grace. It might ha' been
+fear o' consequences.'</p>
+
+<p>"Them two things saved me, Jane. But I calls it one thing. God
+A'mighty's grace made both on us think o' consequences. I says to
+myself: 'What will Alferd do if his mother don't go churchalong? What'll
+happen to him, if his mother be known as a drunkard?' And, there and
+then, Jane, my pore faith come a-flutterin' back, a-shaking its
+feathers, like a hen after a storm o' rain. And the storm was over, too.
+It's been warm and sunny for me ever since. Now you know why I be proud
+o' my Christian feelings."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow nodded and finished her cake. She had begun her second
+cup of tea, when steps were heard upon the stone flags which led from
+the front wicket to the back door.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis Alferd," said Mrs. Yellam.</p>
+
+<p>"And Miss Fancy Broomfield," added Jane Mucklow. "Come to ask your
+blessing, Susan."</p>
+
+<p>"Fiddle!" replied Mrs. Yellam sharply.</p>
+
+<p>Within a minute, however, it became plain that Alfred wanted nothing
+more exciting than a cup of tea for himself and his companion. They had
+climbed to the top of the down, after visiting Mr. Fishpingle at the
+Home Farm. Miss Broomfield, formally presented to the elder women and as
+formally received, looked pale and tired. Possibly, she divined
+hostility the more penetrating because suppressed. Mrs. Yellam said
+magnificently:</p>
+
+<p>"Please excuse me for welcoming you, Miss Broomfield, in my
+kitchen."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"What a pretty kitchen!"</p>
+
+<p>The kitchen&mdash;as Mrs. Yellam was complacently
+aware&mdash;deserved the adjective. It boasted, what is never found in
+modern cottages, an open hearth and ingle-nook. Hams and flitches of
+bacon were smoked in the wide chimney. After such treatment, the hams
+were hung in a row from a big black beam. By the side of the hearth
+stood a small stove large enough to bake modest joints. The window, with
+diamond-paned casements, was deeply recessed, with a red-cushioned seat
+running round it. The dresser, opposite to the hearth, exhibited pewter
+and some willow-pattern pottery. Upon the oak panelling on each side of
+the hearth hung gleaming brass, including an immense warming-pan. The
+table in the middle of the room had been stoutly built of deal. Removing
+the table-cloth, you would have seen a surface scrubbed white as the
+linen cloth. Along the window-sill were pots of geraniums. Even Mrs.
+Mucklow admitted that Queen Mary could eat her dinner off the red tiles
+of the floor.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam nodded. Alfred brought a chair for Fancy, but she
+declared her intention of sitting upon one of two stools against the
+wall.</p>
+
+<p>To her amazement, Alfred said sharply:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't sit on that!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why ever not, Mr. Yellam?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis a coffin stool."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy sat down upon the chair he placed for her. Mrs. Mucklow said
+mournfully:</p>
+
+<p>"I wonders, Susan, why you keep they stools in your kitchen."</p>
+
+<p>"And so do I," added Alfred.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam answered simply:</p>
+
+<p>"They mind me, Alferd, that in the midst o' life we be wise to think,
+now and again, o' death. Will you remove your hat, Miss Broomfield?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy did so, slipping off her gloves first. Mrs. Yellam frightened
+her a little. Not quite at ease, she minded her table manners, and
+behaved with a gentility quietly noted and silently commended by the
+elder women. On such occasions, when a stranger happened to be present,
+Mrs. Yellam loved to lead the talk, choosing a subject likely to improve
+the minds of her listeners. The captious may regard this as an
+unpleasing trait. Mrs. Yellam believed that it was more blessed to give
+than to receive instruction. But, listening to Parson or Squire, she
+imbibed such wisdom as fell from their august lips with an attention and
+an intelligence which she exacted from others when she held the floor.
+Her first duty, as hostess, was to see that her guest made a good tea,
+the sort of tea, obviously, that she did not get at home. Fancy,
+however, trifled with her food, being overtired, and positively refused
+to eat cake. Mrs. Yellam said majestically:</p>
+
+<p>"My son tells me that you be a reader, Miss Broomfield."</p>
+
+<p>"I like books," replied Fancy. "I have not read many, Mrs.
+Yellam."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't hold wi' reading," observed Mrs. Mucklow; "leastways, not
+for pore folks as has no time to waste."</p>
+
+<p>This was a sly thrust at Susan Yellam, one of the few villagers who
+took in and read a halfpenny paper.</p>
+
+<p>"Nor do I, Jane, for such as you means. Parson says you find in a
+book just what you bring to 'un. There's folks in Nether-Applewhite as
+brings nothing, nothing at all."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow helped herself to a second slice of cake. Alfred lit his
+pipe, hoping that Fancy would stand her ground when his mother opened
+fire. Mrs. Yellam smiled graciously at her guest. She might be
+"spindling," but she looked intelligent. Nevertheless, she distrusted
+intelligence in very young women. Undisciplined, it might turn a modest
+maid into a militant suffragette. From all such, Good Lord, deliver us!
+A Nether-Applewhite girl, at the head of her class in school, had joined
+the Salvation Army, and now banged a tambourine in Southampton.
+Sometimes she wondered whether her own Lizzie mightn't have turned out a
+handful. Such a possibility almost resigned her to the loss of a child
+very precocious and with a strong will of her own. You will understand
+the temperament and character of Susan Yellam better if you grasp the
+fact that she endeavoured, habitually, to explain the mysterious
+workings of Providence both to herself and to her neighbours. She had
+been a devoted wife and mother, but, marking as she did the
+disconcerting changes in young women of her acquaintance, she was forced
+to the conclusion that many mothers profited by losing their prayers.
+God Almighty knew best. She addressed Fancy again:</p>
+
+<p>"You live in Salisbury?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do, Mrs. Yellam."</p>
+
+<p>"My son tells me that there be many radicals in the town."</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay."</p>
+
+<p>"Be you true blue or yaller?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't quite understand."</p>
+
+<p>"Be you Conservative or Radical?"</p>
+
+<p>"My father is a Liberal."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred looked uneasy. As a carrier, seeking business where he could
+find it, and dealing impartially with all, he eschewed politics, and
+deprecated the discussion of controversial themes. He would have been
+amazed had a stranger informed him that his outlook on life was
+panoramic in comparison with his mother's. Coming to the rescue of
+Fancy, he said encouragingly:</p>
+
+<p>"So is Mr. Hamlin. He ain't the worse parson for that. As Mother
+knows."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam nodded. A slight acerbity informed her voice as she
+answered her son:</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Hamlin be a good man in parish, Alferd. 'Tis a square sound peg
+in a square hole. And I say this for 'un. He don't talk politics wi'
+me."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow interpolated slily:</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! Parson be a wise man too."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam ignored this superbly. She looked at Alfred, but her
+remarks were addressed to Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"We all knows that Mr. Hamlin is Radical, and 'tis a sore point wi'
+Squire and many others. I hold wi' the old ways, I do. I've no patience
+wi' mischief-makers, a-settin' class agen class, stirrin' up strife, and
+a-puttin' beggars on horseback. As for they jumped-up folks, sanding
+their sugar yesterday an' to-day peacocking along pretending to be
+quality, I fair hates the sight o' 'em. I wouldn't let a maid o' mine
+take service wi' such. All this talk about equality be foolish and
+contrary to Scrupture. There be gentle, and simple, rich and pore. And I
+takes it that pore means more nor poverty&mdash;pore o' purse, pore o'
+mind, pore o' body...."</p>
+
+<p>"And poor of soul," said Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam turned sharply. But there was no offence in the girl's
+quiet voice. She lay back in her chair, listening attentively, obviously
+interested. Mrs. Yellam nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"And pore o' soul. You don't look, Miss Broomfield, as if you was
+ashamed o' service."</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't," said Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"And I reckons you hold wi' me that folks should rest content in
+their proper station o' life, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy answered politely:</p>
+
+<p>"I heard a sermon preached on that in our cathedral."</p>
+
+<p>"Did 'ee now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Till I heard that sermon, Mrs. Yellam, I was never quite able
+to understand about doing my duty in that state of life unto which it
+should please God to call me."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis plain as plain to me," said Mrs. Yellam.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy hesitated. She desired to please Alfred's mother. She was quick
+to realise how easily she might displease her. Being innately sincere,
+she continued bravely:</p>
+
+<p>"It seemed to me to be wrong not to want to better oneself, to rise
+higher...."</p>
+
+<p>As she paused, at a loss for words, Mrs. Mucklow interrupted with a
+hard laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Right or wrong, we all feels that way. Susan Yellam don't fancy
+motors, but she'd like to ride in her carriage an' pair, and would too,
+if so be as a convict uncle from Australia left her a fortin'."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred said uneasily:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Aunt Jane, you know we ain't got convict uncles t'other side of
+the world. What will Miss Broomfield be thinking of us?"</p>
+
+<p>To his astonishment and delight Fancy, not his mother, answered Mrs.
+Mucklow.</p>
+
+<p>"But that is what the preacher made so plain and comfortsome. He said
+that we were not to be content with the station to which we might be
+born, but content in that unto which God might call us. He might call us
+to a higher position, or to a lower. He might give carriages and horses,
+or take them away."</p>
+
+<p>Her gentle voice, so persuasive, so sincere, carried with it an
+extraordinary conviction. This simple explanation of a text familiar to
+anybody who has learnt the Catechism became instantly adequate.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam, quite as sincere as Fancy, said quickly:</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis true. I never thought on't just that way. And 'tis fair, too.
+Let God's Will be done, whate'er betide." Her face brightened. She said
+almost joyously: "I shall ride in Alferd's new motor-'bus wi' proper
+pride now, feeling sure that God A'mighty called me to do so."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred beamed. Fancy, he perceived, had "made a hit." It might be
+prudent to take her away, and run no risks. If he and she resumed their
+walk, the elder women would discuss her handsomely. A favourable first
+impression might become indelible. He got up:</p>
+
+<p>"If you feel good and ready, Miss Broomfield, we might take the road
+again."</p>
+
+<p>"She be tired out," declared Mrs. Yellam. "Anybody but a man'd see
+that. You let Miss Broomfield bide along wi' us, Alferd; she can bide so
+long as she's a mind to."</p>
+
+<p>This was disconcerting both for Alfred and Fancy. Happily for them,
+Mrs. Mucklow espied an opening for contradiction. She exclaimed
+derisively:</p>
+
+<p>"What a notion, askin' a young maid to bide along wi' two old women,
+when every bird i' the trees is a-singing to his mate. But 'tis true,
+Miss Broomfield be leg-weary, after climbing our hills. Take her down
+river, Alferd. Do 'ee borrow the miller's boat."</p>
+
+<p>"That I will," said Alfred. "And glad he'll be to oblige me, too.
+Come on, miss. 'Tis only a step to the mill."</p>
+
+<p>The pair vanished. The elder women looked at each other.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow said slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"I be flambergasted, Susan."</p>
+
+<p>"So be I."</p>
+
+<p>"A very pretty, modest maid."</p>
+
+<p>"Alferd might do worse; I allows that."</p>
+
+<p>"So do I, Susan."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam hesitated, and then said slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"Alferd be fair daffy about her, that's a fact. Miffed as I may well
+be at his choosin' a sweetheart who looks, seemin'ly, as if a puff o'
+wind'd blow her bang out o' parish, I sticks to what I says, the boy
+might ha' done worse."</p>
+
+<p>"Boy, indeed! He be a man."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis true. And the multiplication-table, one might say, be made for
+him rather than her. Alfred did tell me las' night that an auntie, on
+her mother's side, bore twins twice. But as to that, we women be all in
+God A'mighty's hands."</p>
+
+<p>"Then Alferd have told 'ee as he wants her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't 'ee repeat it. He have."</p>
+
+<p>"Then he'll get her. A big strong feller like that feels wonnerful
+cuddlesome when he comes acrost they delicate, abstemious females. 'Tis
+as sartain as we be sitting here that he'll put the question in his own
+good time."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam sighed.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">"We be on the skirts o' great happenings. If 'tis the
+Lard's Will, I have nothing to say."</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch4"></a>CHAPTER IV</h3>
+
+<h4>LE PAYS DU TENDRE</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">During the month that followed, Fancy was very happy. Time
+stands still for true lovers. Past and future seem immensely remote; the
+present, with its rosy hours, holds captive the happy prisoners. Alfred,
+it is true, had not yet put his fate to more than the touch. He had
+encircled a slender waist with a reassuringly strong arm&mdash;no more.
+Being a Yellam and a carrier, he disdained haste. Fancy was well content
+to stroll arm in crook towards the altar. Indeed, upon more than one
+occasion she had checked Alfred when about to explode into speech.
+Behind this procrastination lay a maiden's quickening sense of the
+passion she had provoked. Men whom she regarded as "devils" had accused
+her of being prim and cold. She happened to be neither, but it delighted
+her to think that she inspired restraint in her lover, that he treated
+her with a delicacy less rare in big strong men than is generally
+supposed. His dry humour appealed to her, and the rude Doric of this
+remote Wiltshire village brought many a smile to lips that grew redder
+as kissing-time drew near. As yet Alfred had not kissed her, although he
+had kissed the <i>others</i> many times. She gleaned this information
+from her fellow-maids, who were very sympathetic and, apparently, more
+impatient for a satisfactory consummation than the protagonists
+themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Alfred was learning how to drive a motor, and becoming
+acquainted, very slowly but surely, with the "insides" of the great
+beast. Already he regarded it as human, and of the same sex as Fancy. He
+would say:</p>
+
+<p>"She was ramping and roaring yesterday afternoon and spitting black
+smoke at me. But when I coax her, she purrs sweet as any pussy-cat."</p>
+
+<p>Lively chaff was exchanged between the lovers upon fortunes told by
+real ladies, which turned out wrong. Fancy, however, still pinned her
+faith to an old pack of cards in her possession, and to appease her
+Alfred began to speak of himself as a soldier. When Fancy confided this
+to Molly, she said maliciously: "Soldier, eh? Well, he ain't one o' the
+'onward' sort, is he?" Fancy divined that Alfred would speak when the
+motor-'bus was delivered; and there were moments when she asked herself
+anxiously which of the two "hers" he loved the better.</p>
+
+<p>Toward the end of July, her mind was set at rest upon this point.
+After the first walk to the downs, Alfred discovered that Fancy tired
+easily, although her alert little mind remained active and
+indefatigable. His own brains moved slowly; frequently he was unable to
+follow the maid's divagations and speculations. For example, he had
+asked her soberly what she intended to mean by the expression a "poor
+soul," an expression used by him in an entirely different sense.</p>
+
+<p>"You came nigh upsetting Mother," he told her. "Dang me, if she
+didn't think 'twas a biff at her."</p>
+
+<p>"I meant a lean soul."</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever may that be, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>Always, when these problems presented themselves for solution, Fancy
+would hesitate and blush a little, which hugely delighted Alfred, who
+set himself the pleasant task of framing questions during his drives to
+and from Salisbury to be answered on the next Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>Having taken time to collect her powers of speech, Fancy said
+solemnly:</p>
+
+<p>"Some rich people as well as poor have lean souls."</p>
+
+<p>"Rich people? Do you know any rich people?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, but David says so."</p>
+
+<p>"David? You don't mean David Mucklow? He's a pore soul, sure
+enough."</p>
+
+<p>"I was speaking of King David, who wrote the Psalms. When people's
+bodies wax fat with riches, their souls grow lean."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He weighed an honest
+fifteen stone.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! They wax so fat that they stick in the Narrer Gate?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I suppose so."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred considered this, frowning. Then his face brightened.</p>
+
+<p>"I see you slipping through that Gate like a lozenge."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, please don't say that! 'Tis a figure of speech, Mr. Yellam. Thin
+people may have lean souls. I sometimes think that my soul is lean, when
+I lie awake thinking of&mdash;of&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Of what, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of myself, and what I want for myself."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lots and lots of things."</p>
+
+<p>She evaded further questions, arousing a keener curiosity. Her
+elusiveness frightened him. He couldn't understand anybody lying awake
+after an honest day's toil. He tried to picture her lying sleepless,
+with her luminous eyes gazing into the darkness. Did she think of him?
+Did she really want him as he wanted her? The mere thought of her frail
+little body aroused a strange reverence. His mother was right. A puff of
+wind would blow her out of parish, blow her out of sight, blow her bang
+through the Narrow Gate. And feeling this, with the stabbing,
+ever-recurring reflection that she was the least fleshly of mortal women
+whom he knew, he would not willingly have added half a cubit to her
+stature or half a pound to her weight. In his eyes, she was just
+right.</p>
+
+<p>Upon a never-to-be-forgotten Sunday, much rain had fallen. Fancy,
+who, like most servants, wore too thin shoes, perpetrated a mild
+joke:</p>
+
+<p>"'Twill be dryer on the river than on land, Alfred."</p>
+
+<p>For some time they had called each other by their Christian
+names.</p>
+
+<p>"You're right, Fancy."</p>
+
+<p>The motor-'bus, gloriously red-and-yellow, shining like a sunset, had
+been brought homealong the night before. Alfred shewed it to Fancy,
+expatiating upon its superlative merits and beauties till Fancy's
+jealousy was kindled afresh. Oddly enough, urban though the girl was and
+advanced in her ideas, she felt as Mrs. Yellam did about machinery.
+Whirring wheels and roarings and rampings aroused queer qualms in her.
+Alfred took out the heavy silver watch which had belonged to his father,
+and balanced it on the radiator. Then he proceeded to "race" the engine,
+although he had been advised not to do so. The watch never quivered, but
+Fancy did. She put her hands to her small ears, and ejaculated:</p>
+
+<p>"O-h-h!"</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>When the engine was purring gently, Fancy confessed that noise upset
+her. Pistols, for example, discharged suddenly in places of
+entertainment, made her jump. Alfred said derisively:</p>
+
+<p>"What a rare wife for a soldier!"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought 'twas going to explode, yes, I did."</p>
+
+<p>"Not she. 'Tis a beautiful 'bus, and, maybe, she'll carry me and
+mine"&mdash;he glanced at her now pensive face&mdash;"to fame and
+fortune."</p>
+
+<p>With this hope animating his heart and voice, Alfred spoke at length,
+and with impressive deliberation, mapping out a golden future. Already
+he had made arrangements to transport passengers to Salisbury, likely
+boys and girls anxious to attend the High School. He predicted an
+ever-increasing traffic and the almost immediate necessity of running
+two 'buses and engaging an assistant.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe such a job would suit a young woman I know, Miss Fancy
+Broomfield."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy hastened to assure him that such ambitions soared high above
+her disabilities. Alfred continued, waxing very eloquent, letting loose
+amazing phrases, setting forth prospects which must please and allure
+his listener, talking at her so persistently that Fancy became
+frightened.</p>
+
+<p>"Alfred," she said, entreatingly, "don't make so sure of things."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis in my hand."</p>
+
+<p>"I mind poor Father's plans, and that makes me nervous when you race
+on so."</p>
+
+<p>"What about his plans?"</p>
+
+<p>"He'd a nice business, shoeing the carriage horses of the quality. He
+never did fancy rough work. But it went to bits, when motoring came in.
+That lay back of his poor health. We never know what'll happen."</p>
+
+<p>"I say we do. God Almighty helps them as helps themselves. I'm
+helping myself to a large spoonful, but I can down it, and more
+too."</p>
+
+<p>Undeterred and undismayed by her protestations, he rushed on gaily,
+as if driving his 'bus at excess speed. To Fancy he seemed to be
+whirling out of sight altogether. Nevertheless she guessed that this
+nerve-racking, soul-jolting excursion into the future was presented as a
+joy-ride for her.</p>
+
+<p>"If you ain't careful," she warned him, "you'll fetch up in
+Buckingham Palace."</p>
+
+<p>At this derisive quip, he jammed on brakes, regaining her sympathy
+with the grim remark:</p>
+
+<p>"Or in a ditch. You're right, my girl. 'Tis a fool as toots his own
+horn. Let's say good-bye to the old van."</p>
+
+<p>The van stood derelict at the back of the shed; the stout horses had
+been sold at a fair price. Alfred locked up the door of the shed and
+glanced dubiously at the grey skies. The afternoon promised fine
+weather, but the grass in the park was sopping. Being a true Yellam,
+Alfred had made elaborate plans; he had chosen the spot where he meant
+to propose, a bosky nook in one of the smaller plantations, hard by a
+tiny stream, where ferns grew luxuriantly. In this sanctuary Fancy might
+be persuaded to take off her hat and gloves. Then, after due
+preliminaries, the man would have his way with the maid. He felt full of
+poetry, and quite incapable of expressing it.</p>
+
+<p>"Wet as water it be underfoot," he growled.</p>
+
+<p>And then Fancy made her small joke. Alfred jumped at the suggestion.
+Twenty minutes later, they were floating upon the quiet bosom of the
+Avon, where the river widened above the mill.</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly lovely," murmured Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred nodded, with a heart too full for speech. The sight of his red
+face amused the maid. She knew well enough what was simmering beneath a
+too stolid exterior. He pulled up-stream with short, jerky strokes,
+effective but not elegant. His jacket lay across Fancy's knees, a
+protection against splashings. White shirt-sleeves bulged with big
+muscles. They were heading for a small willow-covered eyot,
+really&mdash;as Alfred reflected&mdash;a more secluded spot than the
+bosky dell. He could push the boat through the reeds and bulrushes and
+find snug harbourage under the willows.</p>
+
+<p>He did so.</p>
+
+<p>Secure from prying eyes, they sat together, side by side, at the
+bottom of the boat. Alfred slipped an arm round Fancy's waist, and
+pressed her to him. He wondered whether she would remain cool and calm,
+when the burning question was asked. With huge satisfaction he noticed
+that her bosom just heaved beneath her thin blouse. On this blouse
+rested a tiny gold locket which held the portrait of her sailor brother.
+Alfred had never seen this locket palpitate before. His own heart
+thumped almost indecorously at the sight. Stealing a glance at her face,
+he saw that she was blushing. The silence was so delicious that he hated
+to break it&mdash;and didn't. Certain carefully-prepared phrases whirled
+out of his mind.</p>
+
+<p>"My!" exclaimed Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"A big water-rat!"</p>
+
+<p>"So 'tis. I don't blame him for wishing to have a look at you."</p>
+
+<p>The rat behaved charmingly, peering down at them from the bank, ready
+to dive into his hole, if the trespassers upon his domain moved.</p>
+
+<p>"He ain't afraid," said Alfred; "but I am."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy said hastily:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't move! What bright eyes he has, to be sure."</p>
+
+<p>"No brighter than others I know."</p>
+
+<p>"Shush-h-h! There! He's gone. I wanted to see him stroke his
+whiskers. I wonder whether he be a gentleman rat or a lady rat?"</p>
+
+<p>This happy remark provided a new opening. Alfred said with
+authority:</p>
+
+<p>"He's a buck rat. He didn't feel frightened, but I reckon he'd told
+his missis and the little 'uns that he'd just take a squint at a notable
+couple, and come back. I'll wager a new hat, he's telling 'em a fine
+tale."</p>
+
+<p>"For all you know he may be an old bachelor."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Rats are wiser than we. And Nature is kinder to them. 'Tis no
+big business for them to get to house-keeping. When they're good and
+ready, they go at it&mdash;slam bang."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Animals don't want much."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred pressed her a little closer.</p>
+
+<p>"Take off hat and gloves, Fancy."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis a notion I have."</p>
+
+<p>She smiled faintly, and obeyed. Alfred eyed the hat, a simple affair,
+home-made. The gloves were of white silkette. Everything she wore seemed
+to be part of herself, dainty, ephemeral, easily crushed and soiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Put your dear head on my shoulder. 'Twill be more cosy."</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated, and did so. Her palely-pink cheek lay close to his
+lips. He said solemnly:</p>
+
+<p>"I mind what you said, Fancy, about lying awake nights, wanting lots
+and lots of things. Tell me about the things you want."</p>
+
+<p>"I c-c-can't."</p>
+
+<p>Her voice had sunk to an attenuated whisper. He realised that she was
+trembling, and his own pulses throbbed with hers. He continued, more
+fluently, pressing her tighter to him:</p>
+
+<p>"Are you wanting grand things?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no. Whatever made you think so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, dear, there is something grand about you. It mazes me, when
+I think on't in my everyday way. You're Parson's parlourmaid, thank the
+Lord! and I'm a plain carrier, with no book-learning and rough manners.
+'Tis like this, Fancy. I'm of the earth, and you're a lil' angel.
+'Twouldn't surprise me to find wings growing on your dear back."</p>
+
+<p>He touched her back gently, to make sure. It was satisfactory to find
+that wings, as yet, had not sprouted.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm only a silly girl, Alfred."</p>
+
+<p>He repeated obstinately:</p>
+
+<p>"You're grand. I reckon 'tis your soul which comes nigh to busting
+your dinky body. Now, Fancy, what do you think about, nights?"</p>
+
+<p>Direct in all things, it never occurred to Alfred that a modest girl
+might shrink from answering such a question in the sincere spirit which
+put it. She smiled sweetly:</p>
+
+<p>"When we talked about that, Alfred, I was thinking amongst other
+things of...."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"That hat." She pointed a slim finger at it. "I wanted that hat ever
+so, because I saw one very like it on the pretty head of Mrs. Lionel
+Pomfret. I wrote a long letter to Father, telling him where to buy the
+straw and the trimmings. You like it, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I never saw a prettier hat, but I like best the head as bobs under
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"It cost me four-and-eight; not a penny more."</p>
+
+<p>"Wonderful you be with your needle. Go on, Fancy. I reckon that hats
+ain't all you think about."</p>
+
+<p>"I think about Willie, tossing in his great ship."</p>
+
+<p>A consuming envy of Willie, the sailor brother, assailed Alfred, but
+no suitable phrase occurred to him. Fancy continued:</p>
+
+<p>"Most of the time, Alfred, my thoughts are with poor Father. He does
+miss me."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be bound he does."</p>
+
+<p>"He enjoys such miserable health. He's a real farrier, doctors horses
+as well as shoes 'em. And he takes his own medicine. I used to water it
+down, unbeknown to him."</p>
+
+<p>"Horse medicine? That's moving stuff. Looks as if your thoughts,
+dear, never rambled far from the family."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, they do. I think a lot, Alfred, about the future."</p>
+
+<p>This was more encouraging.</p>
+
+<p>"So do I; so do I."</p>
+
+<p>"If anything happened to Father or Willie, where would I be?"</p>
+
+<p>Alfred replied happily:</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know where you would be, but I can tell you where you might
+be."</p>
+
+<p>His eager voice beguiled her, but she resisted its pleading.</p>
+
+<p>"I might be almost alone in the world. My two sisters are married.
+They live in small houses. There wouldn't be room for me. I like this
+place, but, oh, dear! some places be awful. It's selfish to think of
+myself, but I can't help it."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis a heartsome thing to think about. I think about you, Fancy,
+when I drive slow along our roads. You fill my mind, you do."</p>
+
+<p>He hoped fervently that she would say what he wanted and confess
+outright that she let some of her thoughts dwell on him. But again the
+poor fellow was grievously disappointed. She murmured confusedly:</p>
+
+<p>"How funny!"</p>
+
+<p>"Funny be damned!"</p>
+
+<p>"Alfred&mdash;&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care. I'm moved as if I'd taken your father's horse
+medicine. You're raking me up with a small tooth-comb. If I think of you
+all the time, 'twould seem fair that you'd think of me some of the
+time."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! That's better. We're coming to grips."</p>
+
+<p>As if contradicting this, the aggravating witch raised her head.
+Alfred grew desperate. Had he been browsing in a fool's paradise? The
+thought palsied speech. He spoke angrily:</p>
+
+<p>"I see how 'tis. You lie awake shaking with laughter, thinking what I
+fool I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Gracious! If you talk like that, I shall think so."</p>
+
+<p>"I am a fool about you. 'Tis a fact. I ain't ashamed on't."</p>
+
+<p>"Folks say...." She hesitated; her eyes twinkled demurely, but he
+couldn't see them.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do folks say?"</p>
+
+<p>"That you're a oner with girls, on and off like."</p>
+
+<p>"On and off? You're throwing big Eliza at my head. If I was a true
+soldier man, always bragging about my victorious marches with women, I
+might tell you 'twas t'other way about. Being only a timorsome carrier,
+and a lover of God Almighty's truth, I say this. Eliza scairt the
+gizzard out of me, she did. I fair ran away from her audacious,
+ungenteel attacks. Now you have it."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy laughed. Alfred fumed on, beside himself with love and
+impatience.</p>
+
+<p>"I've walked out with many maids, some not so maidenly as might be.
+I'm a picker and chooser, getting that much sense from my mother. I
+never walked long with any of 'em. If you'd happened along fifteen years
+ago, when the first petticoat hit me in eye, I'd have remained true and
+faithful to you&mdash;so help me God!"</p>
+
+<p>She remained silent, twisting her fingers. He said hoarsely:</p>
+
+<p>"I want you desperately for my wife, Fancy Broomfield. And you know
+it, being a clever maid. Now&mdash;don't you want me?"</p>
+
+<p>He felt her body relaxing, almost slipping from him. Then, very
+slowly, she lifted her eyes to his, and he read in their luminous depths
+the blessed answer which her quivering lips withheld.</p>
+
+<p>He kissed her reverently and tenderly.</p>
+
+<p>To his surprise and delight, she kissed him, clinging to him, and
+whispering pantingly:</p>
+
+<p>"You'll be kind to me, Alfred; I know you will. I'm such a poor wife
+for the likes of you. Your mother thinks so, and your Aunt Jane."</p>
+
+<p>"You can twist them round your lil' finger."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you love your motor-'bus more than me."</p>
+
+<p>"What a notion! Now I'm going to kiss such foolishness out of you. If
+it ain't gone when I've given you the first big dose, why, I must begin
+all over again."</p>
+
+<p>The river lapped its approval against the sides of the old boat. A
+sedge warbler looked on with his tiny head on one side. The tall reeds
+nodded. The sun peeped from behind a cloud and shot a golden shaft upon
+the pair. Why do we think of the orbéd maiden, the Moon, as being kinder
+to lovers than the great god of day, which warms and fructifies? Upon
+this artless pair he poured generously his vivifying beams. Suddenly the
+willows sparkled with diamonds, the grey river became a sheet of silver,
+the sedge warbler fluted his hymeneal note, and other warblers joined in
+the chorus.</p>
+
+<p>And, far away, in a great palace, men were bending frowning brows
+over a vast war-map, gesticulating fiercely, plotting and planning
+Armageddon.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">But the lovers had their hour.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch5"></a>CHAPTER V</h3>
+
+<h4>UNCLE</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Everybody in Nether-Applewhite called Habakkuk Mucklow
+Uncle.</p>
+
+<p>In all villages remote from what we call civilisation there may be
+found men like him, loose-limbed, loose-tongued, easy, pleasure-loving,
+quick-witted in what concerns others, strangely slow to grapple with
+their own opportunities, always at the mercy of their wives and genially
+dependent upon them. Uncle was the best thatcher in the countryside. He
+might have been busy all the time, but it was known that he refused
+disdainfully the more primitive forms of his work; he never touched
+barns or stacks. On the other hand, he was artistically eager to tackle
+the decorative thatching which is still to be found in Wiltshire.
+Although he was older than his sister, Mrs. Yellam, and past sixty, he
+still ran afoot with the hounds, and earned handsome tips as an
+independent harbourer of deer. During many years, also, he had been
+"beater" to old Captain Davenant, who took out a Forest License from the
+Crown which afforded him three days' rough shooting a week, from October
+till the end of January. Nobody, in those parts, knew the northern half
+of the New Forest better than Habakkuk Mucklow.</p>
+
+<p>Like all his family, he was an upstanding fellow, a six-footer, and
+finely proportioned, with a cheerful red face, cleanly-shaven save for a
+wisp of grey whisker which he sported high on his cheek after the
+fashion adopted by the Iron Duke, whom Habakkuk venerated as the
+greatest of Englishmen. Had you told him that his hero came from
+Ireland, he would not have believed it.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle loved creature comforts, and could carry more strong ale
+without showing it than any man in the parish. Very wisely he had
+married Jane Rockley who, in her time, had served a long apprenticeship
+at Pomfret Court as scullery-maid and then kitchen-maid, becoming,
+finally, cook in that handsome establishment. Jane Mucklow ruled
+Habakkuk through his stomach, and he was well aware of this, and
+rebelled constantly against what he considered to be an abuse of
+power.</p>
+
+<p>"Womenfolk," he would remark, "don't wage honourable warfare. They
+hits below the belt, they do. When my old 'ooman gets miffed wi' me, I
+notices a tremenjous difference in my victuals."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle had pipeclay in his marrow. During his hot youth he had taken
+the Queen's shilling after a poaching affair, and served some five years
+with the colours of the county regiment. He had not seen active service,
+but he allowed strangers to believe that he was a great warrior.
+Possibly, the discipline of the parade ground had made him swear to take
+life easily for the rest of his days.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Davenant spoke of him as a "character." The word "card" was
+not known in Nether-Applewhite.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle loved two persons nearly as much as himself&mdash;his sister,
+Susan, and his nephew, Alfred. When the news of Alfred's engagement
+became known to him, he expressed great interest and pleasure, drinking
+the health of prospective groom and bride in much ale and cider. Alfred
+brought the blushing Fancy to Uncle's cottage, and received the
+felicitations which the good looks of the young woman warranted.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle had sentimental views about the married state not shared by his
+wife. As he kissed Fancy, he said solemnly:</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis a great venture. We all likes a dip into the lucky bag. And it
+do seem to me, Alferd, as you've pulled a prize."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow sniffed. She, too, kissed Fancy, but uttered a warning
+note:</p>
+
+<p>"Marriage ain't what some folks crack it up to be, my girl. But I've
+not a word agen courtship. Your uncle, as is to be, follered me about
+like a dog for three years, and I own up truthful 'twas the happiest
+time o' my life."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle laughed cheerily.</p>
+
+<p>"I be your old dog still, Jane, and allers ready for a bone."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow nodded, looking whimsically at Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"You hear that, my girl? 'Tis the bone they look for. A man's heart
+lies in his stomach. Feed up Alferd so long as he behaves himself. I
+says nothing about the power o' prayer, seein' as generally speaking my
+most powerful prayers ain't been answered as I could wish, but fasting
+do wonnerful work, especially wi' men."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle laughed again.</p>
+
+<p>Marriage, however, seemed reasonably remote. Fancy wished to "make
+good" in her new place. Alfred, very comfortable at home, intended to
+work hard for a year at least, laying the solid foundations of a
+business likely to be bigger than he had ever dreamed it to be. Mrs.
+Yellam, moreover, had spoken plainly and sensibly to her son.</p>
+
+<p>"She be a sweet maid, Alferd, but tarribly spindlin', a slip o'
+muslin, and young for her years."</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty-two, Mother."</p>
+
+<p>"I knows that. And I minds that her mother died, pore soul, when
+Fancy was born. A bottle-baby; and I never did hold wi' that. Don't 'ee
+look so glum. She be plumper a'ready. Pa'son give his maids good plain
+food, and our air blowing over downs be better nor strong ale for such
+as she."</p>
+
+<p>"You do love her, Mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"In course I do, and I'm doing my duty by her and you when I tells
+'ee that she ain't marriage-ripe, nor likely to be for many months to
+come. If I was only thinking o' myself, my son, I'd be laying out your
+wedding sheets this day. Squire and me has many things in common, and
+this afore all: we likes to see red-cheeked little 'uns coming on."</p>
+
+<p>"You're a wonderful, farseeing woman. Fair aching I am for her, the
+pretty dear, but wait we must for matrimonial joys, and wait we shall.
+That's certain."</p>
+
+<p>To his surprise, she laid her strong hands upon his shoulder and
+kissed him solemnly: demonstrations rare indeed with her, which provoked
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Mother!"</p>
+
+<p>She said slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"You be all I have, Alferd, and a son to be proud of as never was. I
+be farseein'. 'Tis a gift o' God. Biding for happiness, in the right
+Christian spirit, generally brings it, but not allers, not allers."</p>
+
+<p>With a sigh she turned to her daily work, and he went, thoughtfully,
+to his.</p>
+
+<p>July glided away peacefully. Wars and rumours of wars reached few
+ears in Nether-Applewhite. The possibility of civil war in Ireland
+disturbed Mr. Hamlin and provoked to wrath Sir Geoffrey Pomfret; the
+villagers remained blandly indifferent to anything outside the sphere of
+their own interests and activities.</p>
+
+<p>With the one exception of Uncle.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps that old war-horse&mdash;for so he deemed himself to
+be&mdash;nosed from afar the coming battles. More than likely, he picked
+up chance words dropped by Captain Davenant, once a Guardsman, who
+rented two miles of fishing on the Avon, preserves under Uncle's
+watchful eye. The Captain predicted war with Germany as inevitable.
+Uncle, like his wife, could be trusted to repeat what he heard with
+sundry additions peculiarly his own. In the ale-house, he told his
+cronies what he knew and much more.</p>
+
+<p>"'Twill be a nice bloody how-dy-do; and it mads me to think that
+time, as the saying goes, have laid me by the heels. The Kayser be bent
+on the job, and have been ever since they ancient days, which I recalls
+right well, when he licked the Frenchies. A rare doin' he give 'em, to
+be sure."</p>
+
+<p>An old gaffer answered promptly, voicing, unwittingly, the general
+opinion:</p>
+
+<p>"'Tain't none of our affair. I be sick to my stomach wi' such
+flustratious talk. We English be the mightiest people on earth because
+we minds our own business. I don't think nothing o' foreigners; they be,
+one and all, so wonderful peevish."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle smiled genially.</p>
+
+<p>"Minds our own business, do us? I bain't so cocky-sure o' that, old
+friend. Speaking up for myself, and bigger fools have spoken in this
+ale-house, I be sartain sure that good money comes my way through
+minding other folks' business. I was never one to think of myself."</p>
+
+<p>"What a tale!"</p>
+
+<p>"The Captain be a dry old stick, but cracklin' wi' ripe wisdom, as I
+be. And he's seen the world, as I have. Stay-at-home folk never look
+further than their back-yards. I takes a very wide view. Me and Lord
+Roberts have sized up this yere Kayser for what he be, a very bumptious,
+slambang, bold pirate, a Grab-all as must be put in his place by we. And
+why? Because 'tis our duty and privilege to keep proper order. We had to
+down Krooger." He trolled out lustily:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+  <span class="i1">"Good old Krooger's dead.</span>
+  <span class="i2">He cut 'is throat</span>
+  <span class="i2">Wi' a piece o' soap.</span>
+  <span class="i2">Good old Krooger's dead."</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I'll drink one more glass o' ale afore I go homealong. Yes, my
+respectable, church-goin' friends, we be on the eve o' such battles as
+never was. And I couldn't hold up head amongst proper men, if I thought
+old England'd keep out o' the scrap. I practises what I preaches. I've
+three big sons&mdash;fair whoppers. If wanted, I'll see to it that they
+be amongst the first to go, and wi' all my honest, generous soul I wish
+I could go along wi' en."</p>
+
+<p>The publican, William Saint, who served the ale, said sharply:</p>
+
+<p>"Your sons, Uncle, may have something to say about that."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle stared at him disdainfully. William Saint was of
+Nether-Applewhite, but he had begun a prosperous career as a footman at
+Pomfret Court. Uncle despised lackeys in his heart. And he detested what
+he termed "quality talk" from people who were not quality. William Saint
+spoke mincingly, which indicated cant and prosperity. He was accused,
+not without reason, of holding radical views, although, being a
+time-server, he voted Conservative in accordance with the Squire's
+wishes. Nevertheless, Saint was not a man to be ignored or taken
+lightly. His tavern, the <i>Sir John Barleycorn</i>, did not engross all
+his activities. He had many small irons in the fire, bought and sold
+horses, dealt in corn and hay, and farmed a few acres of land. In
+appearance, he somewhat resembled Napoleon: the same massive jaw, the
+thin lips, the pale complexion and brooding brow. Under his management a
+small ale-house was becoming a rival of the principal inn, the
+<i>Pomfret Arms</i>. He catered for a better class of customer than his
+predecessor. And he saw possibilities in a tavern, happily situated in
+the middle of the village, overlooking the Avon, a comfortable house of
+call, clean outwardly and within, heavily-thatched, picturesque enough
+to catch the eye and beguile the fancy of the ubiquitous motorist.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle drank his ale before he answered Saint. The mighty draught
+restored his good-humour.</p>
+
+<p>"May be. I listens to all men, and suffers fools and knaves as gladly
+as King Solomon. The Kayser be spoiling for a big fight wi' we. You be
+on the side o' peace, William Saint, and there's many to keep 'ee
+company. I don't blame 'ee. 'Tis your ignorance. The country be full o'
+just such men as you, wi' their eyes glued to their own tills, and
+counters, mindin' their own business, pore souls! and puffed up wi'
+conceit." He paused and concluded impressively: "We be tee-totally
+unprepared, and there be millions over yonder a-waiting and a-longing to
+stick us like so many fat hogs. I wish 'ee, one and all,
+good-night."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle cocked his bowler&mdash;a genuine Billy Coke hat, with Lock's
+historical name on a much-soiled lining (the bowler had belonged to
+Captain Davenant)&mdash;at a martial angle, and strode to his cottage,
+whistling Garryowen. When out with the fox-hounds, he wore a stained red
+coat, another sometime hartog of the Captain's, surmounting well-cut
+breeches and gaiters, once again part of a generous employer's wardrobe.
+He was wearing the breeches and gaiters to-day, but his mind had
+wandered from sport to war. Tremendous military ardour possessed him. By
+the luck of things, on leaving the ale-house, he encountered Lionel
+Pomfret returning from fishing. Lionel had a great affection for Uncle,
+although he knew him to be a poacher on the sly. Uncle hailed him with
+respectful geniality, reasonably assured that five minutes' talk with
+t'young Squire meant more war news and a shining half-crown. On such
+occasions he employed a formula, rarely known to fail to open either
+hearts or purses.</p>
+
+<p>"How well 'ee look, Master Lionel! And Lard bless 'ee, I was thinkin'
+of 'ee as you turned carner. Any fish this fine evening?"</p>
+
+<p>Lionel Pomfret opened his creel and displayed a nice brace and a
+half. But Uncle was in no mood to talk of trout. He had more notable
+fish to fry.</p>
+
+<p>"What be they Frenchies doing, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Lionel answered gravely:</p>
+
+<p>"I hear that twenty thousand Germans have been repulsed at Nancy, but
+I don't believe it, Uncle."</p>
+
+<p>"No more don't I, Master Lionel. These be troublous times."</p>
+
+<p>Lionel nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Be we coming in?"</p>
+
+<p>"Damn it, we can't keep out."</p>
+
+<p>"What I says exzactly. The Rads be kickin' up a fine
+hullabaloo&mdash;a very dirty, timorsome lot. And bound to crawl down
+the pole bimeby."</p>
+
+<p>"France is invaded," said Lionel.</p>
+
+<p>"Quick work, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Quick? After forty years' elaborate preparation? This thing is
+horribly serious, Uncle. I'm wondering what they think about it in the
+village."</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell 'ee, no man better. 'Tis none o' their business, they
+thinks. Such shameless ignerunce makes wiser folk value their wisdom. I
+happened into the <i>Sir John Barleycorn</i> just afore seein' you, sir.
+I'd a matter o' business wi' William Saint."</p>
+
+<p>Not for wealth untold would Uncle have admitted that he visited an
+ale-house to drink ale. Lionel smiled. He knew his man.</p>
+
+<p>"Very thirsty evening, too, Uncle."</p>
+
+<p>"I bain't denying that, Master Lionel. And I did take a glass o' what
+they calls ale there for the good o' the house. We fell to talkin'. I
+made bold to tell 'em what me and Lord Roberts felt about that there
+Kayser. And it miffed 'em. I could see that. And the less they pore
+souls says the more they thinks. They be chewin' my cud now. But what do
+'ee really think, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Lionel laughed, not wholeheartedly. He was a six months'
+bridegroom.</p>
+
+<p>"I think, Uncle, that inside of a fortnight I shall be at my depot in
+Winchester, drilling recruits."</p>
+
+<p>"Lard save us! And you wi' so young and be-utiful a wife!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Geoffrey thinks as I do. There is going to be a terrific strain
+on the manhood of this country. Will it stand that strain?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thinks it will, Master Lionel, so be as they chin-wobblin'
+politicians keeps their dirty fingers out o' pie. I'd like to march wi'
+'ee to Winchester, and overseas, too, by Jo'!"</p>
+
+<p>Lionel nodded. A minute later Uncle strode on his way with the
+expected half-crown snug in his breeches' pocket. He told himself that
+he had earned it.</p>
+
+<p>When he reached his cottage, he found George, the youngest of his
+three sons, just back from the woods, where he worked as a hurdler at
+this time of year. The other sons were married and established in
+cottages of their own. Jane Mucklow was busy preparing the eight o'clock
+hot supper. An agreeable odour filled the kitchen. Uncle kicked the dust
+off his boots and entered the house, with George at his heels. The good
+smell of baked pork provoked, as usual, a pleasant word. Indeed,
+Habakkuk Mucklow had discovered very early in life that soft words do
+butter parsnips.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Mother, you looks very sanitary, and what a colour!"</p>
+
+<p>"Got, as you well knows, from stewin' over a fire. Been painting your
+nose wi' ale, or worse, I reckons."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle stroked his nose.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis a very handsome feature, Jane, and allers a true friend to your
+good cookin'. I met Master Lionel in village street, and let 'un know
+what a wise man was thinking about the times. Agreed wi' every word, he
+did. I told 'un he'd be called to jine up again in Winchester inside o'
+fortnit. Like as not Garge here'll be wearin' out shoe-leather in some
+barrack-yard afore he's much older."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mucklow stared at him, paralysed by astonishment. George, being
+the most interested party, said heavily:</p>
+
+<p>"Not if I knows meself."</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Garge, as you'll enlist if they want 'ee."</p>
+
+<p>"They won't want the likes o' me."</p>
+
+<p>Jane Mucklow said sharply:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you go upsettin' the boy wi' your ridiculous war-talk, Father.
+He come nigh on leavin' us to freeze to death in Canady. Why should we
+fight to save they Frenchies?"</p>
+
+<p>Uncle grinned and chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! I've a notion about that. I told 'un to the old Captain, and
+he said 'twas a very notable remark. Fight we shall and must to save our
+own souls and bodies."</p>
+
+<p>George opened a wide mouth; his mother laughed scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Never heard o' the British Fleet, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>Uncle smiled. Such a smile might have been seen upon the face of
+Ulysses after his wanderings, when Penelope asked foolish question.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, I've seen they mighty ships o' war, which is what you can't
+brag on. But more'n our Fleet were wanted afore, in the days o'
+Bonaparty, and will be again. You mind that bit o' pork, and leave young
+Garge to me."</p>
+
+<p>He gave undivided attention to George; the pleasant smile faded from
+his face. His likeness to his sister came out.</p>
+
+<p>"Be you afeard, Garge?"</p>
+
+<p>George pulled himself together.</p>
+
+<p>"I be bold as brass, except wi' maids."</p>
+
+<p>"That any son o' mine should own up to that! Afeard wi' maids! What a
+gert booby! I be afeard <i>for</i> maids, if so be as they Proosians
+come rampin' into France. And 'tis true they be over the line
+a'ready."</p>
+
+<p>"How do 'ee know that?" asked his wife.</p>
+
+<p>"Never you mind, Mother. I picks up my information as you does, here
+and there. I told Master Lionel as how France was invaded, and he gave
+me half-a-crown, he did."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle produced the half-crown as confirmation strong. George was much
+impressed.</p>
+
+<p>"You earns money in wondersome ways, Father."</p>
+
+<p>"I do. Now, Garge, I tell 'ee, fair and square, the likes o' you'll
+be wanted bad, and, mark my words, my lad, if you don't go willin'
+they'll take 'ee whether or no. I forgot to mention it to Master Lionel,
+but talk o' conscription be in the air."</p>
+
+<p>"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Mucklow.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle, fully alive to the advantage of leaving people to chew the cud
+of his wisdom, went outside to smoke a pipe before supper. He walked
+down the village street, carrying a high head and assuming the port of
+Mars. Bugles sounded in his ears, and the steady tramp of marching men.
+He had picked up the significant and terrifying word "conscription" from
+Captain Davenant, who asked for nothing better. Uncle had agreed with
+the Captain heartily, being very sensible of what drill had accomplished
+for himself, much as he hated it at the time. He thought of George as
+clay to the hand of a sergeant, not as cannon fodder. "Afeard wi'
+maids!" What a confession!</p>
+
+<p>He was not in the mood to engage others in talk, lumping all his
+neighbours together as a flock of silly snivelling sheep, sadly in need
+of a shepherd. For the first time in his life he paid the penalty of
+being a prophet, and felt strangely alone and unhonoured.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he bethought him of his sister Susan. He had half-an-hour to
+spare before supper. She would be busy in her kitchen, but never too
+busy to exchange a word with him. Alfred would be still on the road. He
+strode along more briskly. Susan was the one person living with whom
+Uncle was really himself, at best or worst a very simple,
+straightforward soul. He had never posed before her and&mdash;what a
+tribute to her character!&mdash;in her rather austere presence he
+avoided those whimsical perversions of the truth which so exasperated
+his wife. To a woman of brains he bowed the knee. Also, he was
+gratefully aware of Susan's enduring affection for him.</p>
+
+<p>He wondered how she would take his news, for news it would be, that
+the Squire and Master Lionel were grimly confronting the certainty of
+England declaring war upon Germany. Susan read her <i>Daily Mail</i>,
+but not with any great faith in what newspaper men said. Having a
+singularly retentive memory, she prided herself upon collating
+contradictory statements made by irresponsible writers. Such critical
+powers were not exercised upon the Bible. Apparent discrepancies in the
+Holy Book could be, and were (so she held) reconciled by surpliced
+commentators.</p>
+
+<p>Susan, so Uncle reflected, would deal out strong doses of
+commonsense, which her brother, after due absorption, could in his turn
+distribute generously amongst the weak-kneed. There were moments when
+pity for his fellow-men overbrimmed in Uncle's heart, and filled him
+with an amorphous, inherent melancholy. He could rise to giddy heights
+of mirth and fall from them into unplumbed depths of depression. Susan,
+as he knew, stood solidly between these extremes.</p>
+
+<p>He was in the melancholy mood when he entered her kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Susan, there be a nice bit o' pork frizzlin' in our oven, but
+I be in sore need o' spiritual nourishment."</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever ails 'ee, Habakkuk?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis the crool thought o' weepin' maids and mothers throughout the
+land, as robs me o' my appetite."</p>
+
+<p>For the moment Uncle spoke with absolute sincerity. The thought of a
+nation in mourning had not entered his mind till he crossed the
+threshold of the Yellam cottage. But he accepted it as illuminating.
+And, instantly, his imagination draped the idea in deepest crêpe.</p>
+
+<p>"Be you speaking o' French maids and mothers?"</p>
+
+<p>"Being the man I am, I counts 'em all in wi' us. 'Tis cut-and-dried,
+as the saying goes. Old England takes the field."</p>
+
+<p>Susan Yellam said drily:</p>
+
+<p>"Old England takes the field. Well, dearie, you take a chair and tell
+us all about it."</p>
+
+<p>Incredulity was written plain upon her face. Uncle opened fire at
+point-blank range.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Gaffrey says so, Susan. Master Lionel be hot-foot for
+Winchester, to drill recruities."</p>
+
+<p>The shot went home. Mrs. Yellam's florid face paled. She had
+deliberately put from her the dreadful possibility. But if Sir Geoffrey
+said so, it was so. The blood left her face, because her first thought
+had been for the gracious lady of the Manor, and the young wife, two
+women very dear to her. As the colour came back to her cheeks, she
+reflected that she, personally, was not involved in these fearful
+issues. Mr. Lionel was a professional soldier. Wife or no wife, a
+Pomfret would do his duty. England's army might have to fight side by
+side with the French, and England's army was invincible.</p>
+
+<p>She said gravely:</p>
+
+<p>"We be in God A'mighty's hands."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle sat down, assuming a funereal expression which sat oddly upon
+his somewhat comical countenance. He did not share his sister's faith in
+an All-wise and Merciful Providence. Strong ale, perhaps, had weakened
+it, and over-indulgence in flesh-pots. But he dared not contradict his
+sister.</p>
+
+<p>He fired another shot.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain Davenant be sartain sure that our noble army be too small
+for such a tremenjous affair. He goes further than that, Susan. I
+wouldn't deceive 'ee or try to frighten 'ee for a barrel o' ale, but he
+be flustratingly positive that we be drawn into the bloodiest war as
+never was, and he do say that God A'mighty fights on the side o' the
+biggest army. His tarr'ble words, Susan, not mine. There be millions o'
+Proosians marchin' into France this very day, and the Captain says they
+Frenchies bain't ready for 'em."</p>
+
+<p>He expected a cooling stream of comfort and a rebuttal of what the
+Captain said. If anybody could stand up against so redoubtable a
+personage it would be Susan Yellam. She said slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"The Captain says that our army be too small! The King'll have to
+call for&mdash;millions?"</p>
+
+<p>Uncle nodded dolorously. To his utter amazement and confounding,
+Susan raised her apron, and covered her face with it.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">The abomination of coming desolation overwhelmed both of
+them.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch6"></a>CHAPTER VI</h3>
+
+<h4>FIRST IMPRESSIONS</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Uncle was quick, like all practised orators, to realise
+the effect of his words not only upon a sister, but upon himself. He
+emerged from the depths, as a swimmer after a dive, shaking his head and
+opening his mouth to the ambient air. A happy thought occurred to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Susan," he said, in a more cheerful voice, "I be mazed as you be,
+but things bain't so dark as they seem, and I've Squire's own word for
+it that figures lie to beat Satan hisself."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam looked at him interrogatively.</p>
+
+<p>"I be allers, so to speak, a very calkilatin' man, rampaged by Fortin
+into makin' sixpence do duty for a shillin'. Now, I asks you this, and I
+means to put the question, fair and square, to Captain Davenant
+to-morrer marning. 'Tis a common saying that one Englishman be so good
+as ten Frenchies in a stand-up fight. That be a very comfortsome
+thought, old girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Which I don't hold wi', for one."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't 'ee? I wager the half-crown Master Lionel gi' me that you be
+the equal o' ten Frenchwomen, and, old as I be, I'd fair scorn to turn
+back on any 'arf-dozen furriners. If so be as my calkilatin' ain't out
+o' whack, our noble army o' two hundred thousand valiant souls be more'n
+equal o' two million Frenchies. And, if that be so, the Germans be up
+agen four millions in all. Leastways, if I bain't out in my
+figurin'."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam smiled faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"Your figures, Habakkuk, be Satan's figures. I allows that one true
+Englishman can down three Frenchies, not more. Men'll be
+wanted&mdash;and soon."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle remarked mournfully:</p>
+
+<p>"Such talk takes away my appetite for cracklin'. I go my ways, dear,
+leavin' this mossel o' comfort behind me: they won't be askin' for
+widows' only sons. Good-night to 'ee."</p>
+
+<p>After Uncle's departure Mrs. Yellam busied herself with her work,
+pausing now and again to sigh deeply. If Sir Geoffrey Pomfret said that
+England was coming in, why, England was in. A doubtful hypothesis became
+certainty. And some widows' sons, if she knew her countrymen, would
+fight for England, tooth and nail, even if they were not directly asked
+to do so.</p>
+
+<p>Presently Alfred appeared, sharp-set after a good day's business. He
+repeated the gossip of the market-place. Russia was going to surprise
+the world. England must come in. A greengrocer, on intimate terms with a
+lady of quality, had told him as a secret that the Guards were already
+embarking for Belgium. Alfred concluded cheerfully:</p>
+
+<p>"In Salisbury, Mother, 'tis agreed that six weeks'll see the end
+on't."</p>
+
+<p>"Captain Davenant be talkin' o' conscription, Alferd."</p>
+
+<p>"Let him talk. He's a sour man. I put my faith in God Almighty, not
+in the likes of him."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h!"</p>
+
+<p>"I say to myself, in all Christian humility, that God Almighty in His
+wisdom is fair fed up with the Proosians. Such talk as they use, all
+spitting and choking, is quite enough to sicken ordinary folks. 'Tis the
+swelled head that this Kayser has. However, wiser men prophesy a rare
+uplifting move in trade."</p>
+
+<p>"Alferd&mdash;don't talk o' that. 'Tis more than I can bear to hear
+o' folks makin' money out o' the miseries o' others."</p>
+
+<p>He stared at her, noticing at last her drawn expression.</p>
+
+<p>"You ain't got the headache, Mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't own up to it, if you had. Something's gnawing at you."</p>
+
+<p>Very gravely she told him about the young Squire. Alfred's face fell,
+thinking of Joyce Pomfret, and then of Fancy. What would that pretty
+dear be feeling, if her Alfred was on the march? The light faded from
+his rubicund face. Till that moment the possibility of going had never
+occurred to him. If England did take a hand in the mighty game, surely
+her Army and Fleet would suffice for all eventualities. Suddenly, he
+banged the table with his clenched fist, startling his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Alferd&mdash;!" she exclaimed irritably.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred hastened to apologise. A confounding thought had begotten a
+thoughtless action. He said earnestly:</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy is a oner for telling fortunes with cards."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam frowned. Cards she held to be playthings of Satan,
+expressly invented by him together with strong drink and bad women.
+Alfred continued hastily:</p>
+
+<p>"A lady in Salisbury, real quality, Mother, told Fancy's
+fortune."</p>
+
+<p>"Did she? Better be using her needle, I says."</p>
+
+<p>"No doubt. 'Tis a very odd thing, and food for sober thought, but the
+lady did foretell as Fancy'd marry a soldier."</p>
+
+<p>"A very foolish, mischievous notion to put i' the maid's head."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred nodded. Then he said portentously:</p>
+
+<p>"It might come true, Mother, if the pessimists be right."</p>
+
+<p>"Pessimists?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis a new word to me, and means&mdash;crokers, as looks on the dark
+side of the cloud."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do they tell 'ee?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Twas a solitary he. A shoemaker by trade, and a radical. The smell
+of leather be enough to account for his politics and gloomy views. When
+I take shoes to him, we always pass time o' day, and I come away
+thinking 'tis just before dawn on a cold, drizzling, November morning.
+He says to me: 'My lad, these Proosians may be drinking ale in Salisbury
+before this war's over.' I laughed at him. And he told me I'd laugh
+t'other side of my face in six months."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam made no comment, a strange abstention. Her firm jaws set
+beneath strongly-marked brows, her eyes glowered into the future. Mother
+and son finished the meal in silence.</p>
+
+<p>These things were talked over on Monday, the 2nd of August.</p>
+
+<p>On the Wednesday all England knew that we were at war with
+Germany.</p>
+
+<p>The first effect of this stupendous happening was comical. The banks
+were closed; many people found themselves without money and unable to
+borrow it. Fishpingle, the bailiff at the Home Farm, had to lend Lionel
+Pomfret five pounds to take him to Winchester. Some pessimists predicted
+a financial panic. The foreign stock exchanges transacted no business.
+All this affected Nether-Applewhite but mildly; tongues wagged a little
+faster than usual; very few believed that an Expeditionary Force would
+be sent to France. Sir Geoffrey Pomfret walked down to the village and
+talked with his people. His jolly face and hearty voice indicated
+immense relief. He&mdash;and thousands like him&mdash;had been tormented
+by the fear that a nation stigmatised as shopkeepers would place
+self-interest before honour. He writhed when he recalled the cynical
+gibe of the Russian to England's ambassador at a time when England did
+"keep out." Old Captain Davenant and the Squire were types of men whom
+the more Radical press derided as reactionary and fire-eaters. Let the
+verdict of history speak for such after the war. Few, to-day, will deny
+that the privileged classes with most at stake stood shoulder to
+shoulder in their determination to scrap everything except scraps of
+paper bearing England's sign-manual.</p>
+
+<p>The villagers listened agape to Sir Geoffrey and Captain Davenant.
+Then each went his way perfectly satisfied that others would dance to
+war's pipings and alarums, whilst they "carried on" as before.</p>
+
+<p>Old Gilbert Parish, a great-granfer, was convinced that war had been
+declared with the hereditary foe. He asked Mr. Hamlin shrilly, holding
+hand to ear:</p>
+
+<p>"What I wants to know, Pa'son, be this&mdash;whatever shall we do wi'
+they Frenchies when us have beat'h 'em?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hamlin answered gravely: "I suppose we shall have to eat them,
+Master Gilbert."</p>
+
+<p>The <ins title="'monagenarian' in the original">nonagenarian</ins>
+displayed toothless gums.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! That's what the Dook said at Waterloo. 'Up, Guards, and eat
+'en,' he says. <i>And they did!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Was you there, Granfer, on that notable day?" asked a bystander.</p>
+
+<p>The old fellow cackled joyously.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis so far back along, I disremembers. To speak sober truth, my
+lad, the Dook won that gert battle wi'out me. 'Tis a fact beyond
+gainsayin' that I be here, and hale and hearty, because, maybe, I was
+not there."</p>
+
+<p>His humour so tickled him that he hobbled forthwith to the <i>Sir
+John Barleycorn</i> to wet a still serviceable whistle. Many followed
+his example; the two taverns sold much ale.</p>
+
+<p>In a miraculously short time village life ambled on as before. The
+small boys played at soldiers; some of the more prescient mothers laid
+in stores. Lionel Pomfret returned from Winchester with the assurance,
+hot from the mouth of the officer commanding the dépôt, that every
+regular would be sent abroad. The Squire was absorbed in the details.
+Each officer would be allowed thirty pounds of kit, such kit to be
+snugly packed in a pale-green carry-all. It comprised one change, two
+blankets, a few surgical dressings, a folding-lamp, a pair of
+wire-cutters, and under-linen. The Territorials and Yeomanry would
+defend our shores. According to experts, invasion might be deemed
+practicable, if unlikely. Next day Lionel went to London, to the War
+Office. He came back with a Captain's commission.</p>
+
+<p>The Government had taken over the railroads, and, at first, trains
+were inconveniently belated. Liège was covering herself with
+imperishable glory, holding up hordes of Germans. In the rural districts
+the comforting impression prevailed that the All-Highest War Lord had
+gone stark, staring mad, and that a peace-loving nation would kick him
+and his out of the country. Hamlin, reading feverishly papers and
+reviews, neglecting, for the first time in his life, parochial duties,
+rejoiced in the premature conclusion that there burned no hate in
+English hearts against the German people to whom civilisation owed so
+much. He adumbrated peace before Christmas, and believed that a
+world-war would end war. For a parish priest, he might be reckoned,
+intellectually, far above the average. Men of keener and bigger brains
+shared his views. Sir Geoffrey Pomfret, as might be expected, thought
+otherwise. There is no pessimist like your optimist when he finds that
+the prognostications of his less robust moments have come to pass. He
+said almost truculently to his wife:</p>
+
+<p>"It is some comfort to reflect, my dear Mary, that <i>we</i> were
+right, and all these axe-grinding demagogues wrong. I could hang Haldane
+with my own hand. And I feel in my bones that this is going to be a long
+business&mdash;a full year at least."</p>
+
+<p>The Squire was sorely taken aback, when Lord Kitchener trebled this
+estimate. He cursed politicians of his own party when Namur fell.
+Indeed, he blamed politicians and publicists of every colour and creed,
+pinning his faith to Army and Navy, sorely disgruntled with the Foreign
+Office and the Diplomatic Service. No more unhappy man gazed across his
+broad acres wondering miserably whether they would be his in three
+years' time.</p>
+
+<p>There ensued, as will be remembered, an amazing epidemic of national
+apathy, which aroused trenchant criticism in neutral countries. People
+bought maps and pins, and forgot to move the pins. Small things became
+again of paramount importance. The King had demanded half a million more
+regulars. But business went on as usual. A famous scribe has chronicled
+the supreme event of this transition period. Carpentier defeated
+Bombadier Wells! Possibly, the general indifference, an indifference
+largely due to ignorance, was superficial. It is significant that
+thousands of holiday-makers returned quietly to their own homes.</p>
+
+<p>Lionel Pomfret and his wife moved to Winchester, where Lionel was
+kept busy at the dépôt. For the moment, his own battalion of the Rifle
+Brigade was in India. Another battalion had joined the Expeditionary
+Force. Lionel might be called upon to join it at twenty-four hours'
+notice. Joyce Pomfret, his wife, perceived that he wanted to do so.</p>
+
+<p>An American, with the liveliest powers of observation, visiting
+Nether-Applewhite, and talking, let us say, to Mrs. Yellam and Fancy,
+would have gone away convinced that both these women, each the
+antithesis of the other, were unconcerned with the war. Really the
+thought of it obsessed them night and day. But they rarely spoke of it.
+Mrs. Yellam deliberately put from her the possibility of losing her son,
+partly because she had a positive assurance from the Parson that Alfred,
+as a public carrier, would be exempted from military service if
+conscription became necessary, and partly because the fact that she
+tended four graves in the churchyard must surely be taken into account
+by an All-wise and Merciful Providence. Like most of us, she had
+constructed her own particular statute of limitations and liabilities.
+She had endured more than her proper share of bludgeonings. Accordingly,
+her mind dwelt upon the war as affecting others. She grieved for Lady
+Pomfret and the Squire. If Master Lionel were taken&mdash;! The only son
+and heir to such a fine property&mdash;!</p>
+
+<p>Fancy, sister of a beloved brother serving in a battleship, fell a
+prey to more intimate and poignant considerations. As the child of a
+delicate mother who had died in giving her birth, pre-natal influence,
+perhaps, had endowed her with sensibilities common to all women who are
+physically weaker than they should be, with minds and imaginations more
+active than their bodies. From her tenderest years Fancy had indulged in
+meditations concerning angels. Her father habitually spoke of his wife
+as an angel hovering close to one whom she had never held in her arms.
+Fancy believed him absolutely. Darkness had no terrors for the child,
+when she went to bed, because, in addition to her mother, the four
+evangelists guarded her cot. She was quite positive that she had seen
+her mother, clothed in shining tissues, with wings like a dove. Matthew,
+Mark, Luke and John became personal friends with whom the mite affirmed
+solemnly that she talked and played. Her father, a dreamer rather than a
+doer, encouraged these fancies, which justified his selection of her
+Christian name in obstinate defiance of the wishes of his family.</p>
+
+<p>The first effect of the war upon Fancy, apart from her sisterly
+anxieties, was a tightening of the bond between master and maid. Mr.
+Hamlin held strong democratic opinions, a source of friction between
+himself and Sir Geoffrey Pomfret. He desired ardently a more equable
+distribution, not merely of wealth, but of health and intelligence. He
+believed absolutely in the equality of souls before God, and he
+recognised with ever-increasing satisfaction the potentialities of
+bodies and minds, if taken in hand early in life. His disabilities as a
+teacher shewed themselves in a too direct manner of speech, an
+abruptness caused by an excess rather than a lack of sympathy and
+perception. As Man and Priest, he shunned those easy by-paths beloved by
+many of us when we have disagreeable duties to perform. He marched
+straight to his objectives, regardless of objections.</p>
+
+<p>At first sight, Mr. Hamlin recognised in his parlourmaid qualities of
+which she herself was delightfully unconscious. As parson of a country
+parish which outwardly and inwardly had changed but little since the
+eighteenth century, he had fought desperately against the mental and
+spiritual apathy of his flock, seizing any weapon that lay to his hand.
+He worked with people for people, using Peter to convert Paul,
+constantly disappointed but rarely discouraged. He had been offered
+preferment; his sermons challenged interest outside Nether-Applewhite
+but he had no personal ambition beyond the consuming desire to help
+those whom he knew and loved to help themselves. Sir Geoffrey Pomfret
+supported him in this, but Parson and Squire worked upon diametrically
+opposing lines. All the instincts of the lord of the manor were
+protective. To that end he had made and was prepared to go on making
+personal sacrifices of leisure, pleasure and money. According to Hamlin,
+this encouraged helplessness and ignorance. Poverty held out eager hands
+for doles, displaying that comical form of gratitude which has been
+defined as a lively sense of favours to come.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin, in common with most sincere reformers, divided the world into
+two classes&mdash;the helpers and hinderers. Between these lay, of
+course, a No Man's Land, where each class wandered aimlessly; the
+helpers, like the Squire, became hinderers and hinderers, like Uncle,
+might become, unexpectedly, helpers. Fancy, he acclaimed as a helper in
+or out of the debateable territory. Insensibly, her refinement and
+modesty would raise the tone in his kitchen, and radiate purer beams
+from a house hospitably accessible to all his congregation. From time to
+time, when he was alone at meals, he would ask the maid odd questions,
+and listen attentively to her replies. Such questions were disconcerting
+to Fancy, but, as was intended, they provoked intelligence to answer
+them. Ever since ordination, Hamlin had realised the almost insuperable
+barriers interposed by tradition, by training, by a thousand and one
+conditions and consequences, between the privileged and unprivileged
+classes. From the first he had set himself the task of breaking down
+such barriers. He candidly admitted that most of his parishioners were
+liars and hypocrites when it came to dealing with them frankly as
+between man and man, and still more so as between man and woman. They
+said, respectfully, what each felt that the Parson wished them to say,
+repeating the old shibboleths and sesames which opened, possibly, purses
+but not hearts.</p>
+
+<p>After the fall of Namur, he said to Fancy:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you feel patriotic?"</p>
+
+<p>The question of patriotism had been raised (and not laid) by a
+publicist in one of the current reviews, but the writer had presented a
+point of view coloured and discoloured by intimate knowledge of
+industrial England. He had not touched upon his theme as it affected the
+rural districts.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so, sir," replied Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"How far, I wonder, would your patriotism carry you?"</p>
+
+<p>He knew that Fancy was engaged to Alfred Yellam, and had
+congratulated her sincerely. He knew, also, that she had no intention of
+getting married for some time to come.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy stood at attention, much perplexed, but flattered. She had wit
+enough to realise that her master put the question in certain faith that
+she would endeavour to answer it truthfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't tell," she faltered. "Sounds silly, don't it, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all. I am wondering how far my patriotism would carry me.
+What is patriotism, Fancy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Love of country, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Why do we feel it?"</p>
+
+<p>His keen eyes rested quietly on hers.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy grappled with this, struggling to rise adequately to the
+occasion.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose 'tis gratitude, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Good. But gratitude is imponderable." For an instant he had
+forgotten that he was talking to his parlourmaid. Beholding a wrinkle,
+he said quickly: "I mean, that gratitude is not easy to weigh or
+measure. It is immense," he smiled at her, "when it marches hand in hand
+with self-interest. It shrinks horribly when self-interest marches or
+runs in the opposite direction. Do you follow me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir; thank you, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't thank me," he said, with a touch of irritation. He continued
+quietly: "We must all try to weigh our patriotism, because every one of
+us will be asked to exercise it. Leaving out the men able to bear arms,
+I am thinking for the moment of the women, young and old. An immense
+burden is about to be imposed on them. That is why I am speaking to you.
+I held the mistaken view that this war would soon be over. But it is
+plain that we are fighting an enemy overwhelmingly strong, who is
+setting all laws, human and divine, at defiance. I want to measure our
+patriotism, my own, yours, everybody's; but I do so in fear and
+trembling."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy, outwardly calm, presenting the impassive mask of the
+well-trained servant, became conscious of tingling and throbbing pulses.
+A strong man appeals most strenuously to the sympathy of a woman, when
+he permits her to have a glimpse of his weakness. She spoke impulsively,
+quite forgetting her "place," as she told herself afterwards.</p>
+
+<p>"You be thinking of Mr. Edward."</p>
+
+<p>It was a flash of intuition.</p>
+
+<p>The Parson had four stout sons, but Teddy, the youngest, was his
+Benjamin. Teddy and Joyce had inherited from Mrs. Hamlin joyous
+temperaments. The other sons resembled their father. All of them were
+"doing well" in a worldly sense. The eldest was a don at Cambridge,
+Fellow and Tutor of his College. The others were in business, climbing
+hand over hand the commercial ladder. Teddy, with not so good a start as
+his brothers, had entered the Railway Service. Since Fancy's arrival at
+the Vicarage he had spent a too short holiday at home. His jolly,
+unaffected ways captivated Fancy instantly. Life, as the maids put it,
+entered a dull house and filled it with sunshine. Teddy brought with him
+to Nether-Applewhite wonderful news. He had been offered and had
+accepted a billet worth four hundred a year&mdash;startling advancement
+for so young a man. His unaffected joy in his own good fortune warmed
+all sympathetic hearts.</p>
+
+<p>The Parson looked up sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he answered curtly. He had finished breakfast, but still sat
+at table. Fancy saw that he was nervously crumbling a small piece of
+bread.</p>
+
+<p>"But Mr. Edward won't have to go, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin hesitated. But, inviting confidence, he was not the man to
+withhold it churlishly. He said slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"Between ourselves, Fancy, Mr. Edward wishes to go. I have a letter
+from him this morning, asking for my advice on the subject. It means,
+for him and me, a great sacrifice."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear! You'll never let him go&mdash;surely?"</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin rose, a tall, gaunt figure.</p>
+
+<p>"My patriotism," he said grimly, "is not quite so lively, Fancy, as
+it was last night."</p>
+
+<p>He went out of the room. Fancy began to clear away the breakfast
+things, much troubled, sorely perplexed, alive to her finger-tips with
+the dismal consciousness that life had become suddenly confoundingly
+difficult. If Alfred took a notion to enlist, and if he consulted her
+about it, as surely he would, to what sort of strain would her
+patriotism be subjected? She, too, approached the question in fear and
+trembling. At the moment "things," as she vaguely expressed it, were
+going better and better for Alfred. War seemed to have oiled all
+commercial wheels. On Sundays her happy swain soared into an empyrean of
+prosperity and opulence where he sat enthroned high above her, talking
+exuberantly of a future she dared not envisage. The good fellow assured
+her that the Germans would soon be on the run, with English sabres
+hewing them down, with English bayonets in their fat backs. Would such a
+man, travelling at excess speed into Tom Tiddler's Ground, fingering
+daily larger and ever larger pieces of silver and gold, stop suddenly
+and abandon everything?</p>
+
+<p>He might.</p>
+
+<p>If patriotism seized him, as it had seized Mr. Edward, the strangling
+grip would choke ambition, self-interest, and woman's love.</p>
+
+<p>She told herself miserably that Mr. Edward would go. More, his father
+would not raise a finger to stop him. As the Parson left the
+dining-room, she guessed that his decision had been made already.</p>
+
+<p>Within a week it became common knowledge in the village that Mr.
+Edward Hamlin had enlisted in the Guards. He would appear amongst his
+father's parishioners in a private's kit, and salute respectfully his
+old friend, Captain Pomfret.</p>
+
+<p>He was the first "gentleman" in those parts to relinquish fortune at
+the call of duty. And his shining example, so his father perceived, had
+moved mountains of too solid flesh. As yet the great recruiting campaign
+had not begun.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">Two days afterwards George Mucklow followed the parson's
+son into the ranks.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch7"></a>CHAPTER VII</h3>
+
+<h4>SECOND IMPRESSIONS</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">August&mdash;with its stupefying surprises,
+disappointments, and acrimonies&mdash;drew to a close. The black Sunday,
+at the end of the month, will never be forgotten by those who happened
+to be in London at the time. For a few terrible hours it was said that
+our Expeditionary Force had been annihilated. In the evening an official
+contradiction lifted the town out of a pea-soup fog of despair.</p>
+
+<p>Day by day, the Hun hordes advanced. Sir Geoffrey devoured his
+morning papers, talked over the immeasurable possibilities with his wife
+and Fishpingle, and finally determined to tap fresh information at its
+source. He went up to London, spent three days at his clubs, and
+returned to Nether-Applewhite an angry and disillusioned man. Having
+many friends in high places, some of them old schoolfellows and kinsmen,
+who had become pale and anxious Cabinet Ministers, he buttonholed them
+all, demanding the truth in his jovial, autocratic fashion.</p>
+
+<p>"A damned lot of Mandarins," he told his wife, "nodding their
+confounded heads and saying nothing. At the club, by Jove! I felt as if
+I were in a submarine with the periscope shot away. Every other fellow I
+met was 'credibly informed' about something or t'other, and I could have
+made a pot of money, my dear, laying odds against their precious bits of
+information. The Government is scared stiff, at the mercy of the
+Labourites. Out of the welter of talk and twaddle I collared this
+conviction: the England we love has vanished never to return. Kitchener
+says that we shall be bled white, and the best will be the first to
+go."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Pomfret smiled faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"George Mucklow has gone."</p>
+
+<p>"Has he? I shall give Uncle a sovereign. Now, Mary, sick as I feel
+about the incompetence and crass stupidity of the people who have got us
+into this mess, I shall carry a stiff tail in the village."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure you will, dear."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I asked 'em at the War Office what I could do. Get recruits,
+they told me. I shall mug up a lecture, dealing with military
+terminology. My people don't know the difference between a brigade and
+an army-corps. Coming down in the train, I thought out some useful
+diagrams. And, Mary, unless a miracle happens, the slaughter will be
+appalling. We must turn our dear old house into a Red Cross
+Hospital."</p>
+
+<p>"I had thought of that, Geoffrey. We are quite ready."</p>
+
+<p>"Get your staff together, a competent, professional nurse, and the
+pick of the women in the village."</p>
+
+<p>"Susan Yellam has promised to help."</p>
+
+<p>"None better! The sooner we get to work and stop jawing and fuddling
+our wits over newspapers, the less miserable we shall be."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes."</p>
+
+<p>After dinner, the autocrat of Nether-Applewhite felt less
+unhappy.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the following morning, bright and early, Squire and Parson put
+their heads together at the Vicarage. Since the marriage of Hamlin's
+daughter to Lionel Pomfret, the somewhat strained relations between the
+two fathers had pleasantly relaxed. Hamlin had this advantage over the
+Squire. He could see and understand the autocrat's lordly point of view.
+The Squire was, and always would be, incapable of standing in the
+Parson's shoes. Possibly, the war had modified their extreme opinions.
+The Squire read and approved the leading articles in <i>The Morning
+Post</i>; the Parson read <ins title="'omniverously' in the
+original">omnivorously</ins> papers and reviews, but he would have
+admitted candidly that <i>The Westminster Gazette</i> embodied most
+accurately his ideas and judgments.</p>
+
+<p>Both men were uncomfortably conscious that grave blunders had been
+perpetrated by Authority.</p>
+
+<p>When they had lit their after-breakfast pipes, Sir Geoffrey laid
+before Hamlin a synopsis of what he had gleaned in London, and his
+impressions thereon, but he spoke temperately, perceiving whimsical
+gleams in his Parson's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"A lot of fools believe that Russians are pouring through this
+country. An old pal and myself tried to investigate on our own. We went
+to Euston. By Jove! we dropped on to a porter who swore that he'd seen
+thousands of 'em passing through Willesden, big bearded men in queer
+uniforms, at dead o' night. To show the ignorance of these fellows,
+Hamlin, I'll repeat to you what was said in answer to my questions. The
+porter affirmed positively that he had seen six hundred thousand of 'em!
+<i>Six hundred thousand!</i> I asked him, then, if he knew how many
+soldiers could be packed into one train. He scratched his head at that.
+Finally, he admitted that he could swear to three trains full of these
+bearded warriors. When I told him, as an old soldier, that three trains
+might carry three thousand troops he absquatulated. A man at the War
+Office, whose name I can't mention, told me, next day, that no Russians
+from Russia were passing through England. A few, coming from America to
+Russia, have aroused this ridiculous gossip."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"I told my wife last night that knowledge is simply unachievable,
+because the biggest men don't know yet the temper of the country. Nobody
+knows. But I'll tell you this: the Government is afraid of the
+Industrials, terrified of strikes, terrified of Ireland, terrified, of
+course, of being kicked out. A sort of mental palsy has 'em by the
+throat. They are putting out feelers, tentatively approaching everybody.
+It's a sorry business. The bright spot is the response from our
+Colonies; India is behaving well. That must be a rare sell for the
+Kayser. Well, well; I've let off a little steam. Let's consider
+ourselves and what we can do. Men must be got. In this village your dear
+boy has set a glorious example."</p>
+
+<p>"George Mucklow enlisted three days ago."</p>
+
+<p>"So my wife tells me. I propose to give a lecture in the school-house
+on elementary military dispositions, so that our people will be able to
+read their papers with some sort of intelligence."</p>
+
+<p>"They don't read papers&mdash;much."</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to fill the school-house for me."</p>
+
+<p>"With pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall open a Red Cross Hospital as soon as may be, at the
+Court."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin promised cordial co-operation. He had never doubted the
+Squire's willingness or capacity to "do his bit." And very mournfully he
+told himself that, making due allowance for Sir Geoffrey's reactionary
+sentiments and hatred of politicians the indictment brought by him
+against the Mandarins was in the main justified. He said quietly:</p>
+
+<p>"Most of my considered judgments are in the melting-pot."</p>
+
+<p>"Bless my soul! I never expected to hear you say that. So are mine.
+The main question for all of us is this: will the country rise to this
+stupendous emergency? I suppose the mere mention of conscription gives
+you a fit?"</p>
+
+<p>"I carry an open mind about it."</p>
+
+<p>"You amaze me, Hamlin. We were both 'blue-water school' men."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. You use the past tense. I am humbly sensible that what I have
+felt and acted upon, principles and theories essentially rooted in peace
+and for peace, is of the past. I shall leave them there. The needs of
+the present are obsessing." He paused a moment; when he spoke again his
+voice held conviction: "Out of the darkness, I see light."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey asked eagerly:</p>
+
+<p>"What light?"</p>
+
+<p>"The light of a happier civilisation, of a broader and more
+sympathetic internationalism. The ashes of this conflagration may
+fertilise anew the whole earth. It must be so."</p>
+
+<p>He had surprised Sir Geoffrey a moment back; it was the Squire's turn
+to surprise him. Hamlin expected a wail from the many-acred lord of the
+manor, a Jeremiad personal and embittered. Inevitably the men of large
+estates, with little outside their domains to support them, must suffer
+cruelly. It was difficult, indeed, to envisage the Squire of
+Nether-Applewhite without his shooting and hunting, with a much-reduced
+establishment, constrained to cheese-paring, entertaining wounded
+Tommies instead of county magnates. Sir Geoffrey answered as humbly as
+the Parson:</p>
+
+<p>"God send it may be so, Hamlin. This is a war between autocracy and
+democracy; and I don't believe in democracies, as you know."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin remained silent. The Squire continued, more vehemently:</p>
+
+<p>"Can you mention one country that is a democracy? Is America a
+democracy?"</p>
+
+<p>"We shall know soon."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it a democracy to-day? Uncle Sam says so. But isn't America
+governed by the few and for the few? Do you call France a democracy
+after the revelations of this Caillaux trial? Are we a democracy, in the
+true sense? Perhaps Switzerland comes nearer the standard mark, but I
+know nothing about Switzerland. I have always distrusted profoundly the
+mob."</p>
+
+<p>"That may be at the root of the trouble. Distrust breeds distrust. If
+this war should open all eyes, if men should learn to see each other as
+they are&mdash;much alike in the mass&mdash;and not, not, as they
+blindly believe, essentially different, why, then this war will not have
+been waged in vain."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey wrestled valiantly with these words.</p>
+
+<p>"I grope, Hamlin, I grope. It sounds humiliating when one is past
+sixty."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin nodded. He was groping, too, but he had greater faith in human
+nature. He said hesitatingly:</p>
+
+<p>"The result of all wars, according to history, has been this: the
+poor emerge poorer; the rich richer. I hope that it will not be so after
+this world-war. And our energies should be directed to that end,
+Pomfret:&mdash;a more generous distribution of material wealth, a
+happier understanding between all classes, a breaking-down of barriers
+everywhere, not only as between man and man, but as between nation and
+nation."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey jumped up, holding out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a good fellow, Hamlin, sound at core. I have often misjudged
+you in the past. Forgive me! The past, as we knew it, is dead. We will
+work together in the present."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin rose quickly, grasping the outstretched hand. After discussing
+practical details concerning the lecture, they separated. The Squire
+strode on to the village, much heartened. The Parson sat down at his
+desk to write the Sunday morning sermon. For a time, he put no pen to
+paper. He leaned head upon hand, thinking deeply. Out of the dump-heap
+which was left of his pet theories, he tried to piece together some sort
+of mosaic pavement upon which he could stand. It was difficult to
+realise the change in himself, more difficult to realise the change in
+the Squire. But the change had taken place. What would be the effect on
+his parishioners? Who would help? Who would hinder? If this war meant
+the regeneration and reconstruction of the world, all were involved. He
+thought of the dead Pope, who had passed away without exciting a ripple
+of excitement outside the Vatican. What part would his successor play?
+Would the Church of England grasp a tremendous opportunity? Would the
+<ins title="'Noncomformists' in the original">Nonconformists</ins> gird
+up their loins for the spiritual battle?</p>
+
+<p>Consider Armageddon how he might and did, from every point of view
+which presented itself to an active and prescient brain,&mdash;the
+material outlook of diplomatists struggling to adjust the balance of
+European powers, of monarchs gazing at tottering thrones, of politicians
+still grabbing loaves and fishes, of business men thinking of their
+tills, of the rank and file in all countries working apathetically for
+their daily bread,&mdash;this thought rose up and dominated others. To
+him and men like him, ardently concerned with the potentialities of
+souls, ordained teachers of God's Word, called upon to interpret, so far
+as they could, the mysterious designs of Omnipotence, the issues shone
+clearly forth. Evil was arrayed against Good. The pomps and vanities of
+the world were marshalled against the powers of the Spirit.</p>
+
+<p>And, in the end, the Spirit would triumph.</p>
+
+<p>He began his sermon.</p>
+
+<p>The Squire, meanwhile, was approaching the <i>Sir John Barleycorn</i>
+tavern, intending to have a word with William Saint, and, later on, with
+Susan Yellam and others, whom he regarded as aides-de-camp. Not being a
+very judicious reader of character, indolently disposed (because he was
+so busy himself) to accept his own people as they appeared to be, he
+regarded William Saint as a respectable, intelligent publican, who had
+been an excellent servant as first footman at the Court. He counted upon
+William as a likely "whipper-in" in the hunt for recruits. The Boniface
+of the <i>Pomfret Arms</i>, the larger of the two Nether-Applewhite
+taverns, happened to be stout and scant o' breath. He seldom stirred out
+of his snug bar-parlour. William Saint scoured the <ins
+title="hyphenated in the original">countryside</ins>, a very energetic,
+enterprising fellow.</p>
+
+<p>"Morning, William."</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, Sir Geoffrey."</p>
+
+<p>The Squire removed his hat and wiped an ample brow. He had found
+Saint in the sanded tap-room, overhauling supplies. He noted the man's
+drab complexion, and wondered whether he consumed too much of his own
+beer. The publican asked his old master deferentially if he would drink
+a glass of ale. Time was when the Squire never refused such invitations.
+To-day, he declined the ale, saying trenchantly:</p>
+
+<p>"No, no. We shall have to tighten our belts, William. Take my word
+for it. You must reckon with being hit. We shall all be hit in our
+purses and our stomachs."</p>
+
+<p>William Saint agreed politely. He had no intention of being hit in
+either place, but he kept that to himself. Already he was secretly
+enrolled amongst the would-be profiteers, and resolutely determined to
+extract good from an ill wind. Sir Geoffrey stated the nature of his
+errand. The village must set an example to less beatified hamlets, such
+as Ocknell, for example. Did William think the younger men would come
+forward with enthusiasm? William was doubtful about the enthusiasm. With
+discreet pressure from Authority, they might be induced to follow the
+example of George Mucklow. The Squire slapped his thigh.</p>
+
+<p>"I am very pleased with George Mucklow. A snug billet shall be kept
+for him."</p>
+
+<p>William smiled, not very pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>"His father, Sir Geoffrey, used pressure."</p>
+
+<p>"Did he, b'Jove? And very proper, too. Uncle is one of the right
+sort. Even his weaknesses are endearing. The truth is, William, in such
+damnable times as these we must keep an eye peeled for the good in our
+fellow-men, and wink the other discreetly."</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps William profited by this advice, and winked the eye farthest
+from Sir Geoffrey. After more conversation, dealing strictly with
+recruiting methods to be applied to a community essentially
+peace-loving, Sir Geoffrey walked off and on, very well satisfied with
+his talk with an old servant. William apostrophised his diminishing
+figure in language never printed nowadays.</p>
+
+<p>As the Squire walked down village he, too, like the Parson, thought
+seriously of what he should say to his people when he met them in the
+school-house. He was not concerned with spiritual issues. As a former
+M.F.H., he went a-hunting recruits with the same ardour and resource
+formerly consecrated to foxes. With profoundest sincerity he wished that
+he were of an age to bear arms. Indeed, he had offered himself, as an
+ex-Guardsman, quite ready to tackle a new drill-manual, to an old
+schoolfellow, now a general at the War Office. Sound advice had been
+tendered him.</p>
+
+<p>"You can serve your country, Pomfret, on your own pitch. We shall
+want men and food. Food may become the more difficult problem."</p>
+
+<p>Hence the allusion to tightened belts.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey walked briskly, reflecting complacently upon his
+excellent physical condition. He might be slightly dazed in mind, but
+fit as a fiddle in body. An odd expression that! What constituted a
+"fit" fiddle? Obviously, an instrument tuned to the right pitch. He felt
+taut all over. What had kept him fit at an age when many men of his
+acquaintance were falling into the sere and yellow stage of life? Sport.
+To scrap sport filled him with apprehension. So far, sport in England
+went on as usual. When he visited Euston to make enquiries concerning
+Russians, he had seen many cheery-looking fellows on their way north,
+bent on slaying grouse and stags, reasonably convinced in their own
+simple minds that, Germans or no Germans, the world must wag on as
+before. Sir Geoffrey was not so optimistic. He knew much better. Already
+the supreme sacrifice of an only son had been demanded of him and made
+instantly. Other sacrifices bulked larger and larger in the immediate
+future. Standing in his fine hall, with the portraits of dead-and-gone
+Pomfrets looking down upon him, he had smelt anticipatingly the pungent
+odours of carbolic acid and iodoform. The stately saloon must be turned
+into a ward&mdash;! The mere thought was hateful, but he never flinched
+from it. Let the poor boys come! He would welcome them with courtesy and
+geniality. A Mandarin predicted a five-shilling-in-the-pound income tax!
+The Squire had responded generously to the Prince of Wales's Fund.</p>
+
+<p>The situation could be summed up in one all-embracing
+word&mdash;Hell!</p>
+
+<p>Little girls curtsied, small boys touched their caps, as the Autocrat
+of Nether-Applewhite passed them by with a kindly word and glance for
+each. He reflected: "The little 'uns are out of it, bless 'em!" He
+wondered whether respectful salutations would last his time. They were
+dear to him, outward and visible signs of the respect paid to Authority.
+Would they be scrapped? The Government had taken over the railroads. If
+the Labourites came into power, the land might be grabbed
+ruthlessly.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey walked less briskly, as the possibility obtruded
+itself.</p>
+
+<p>He stopped first at Uncle's cottage. Mrs. Mucklow received him.
+Uncle, it appeared, was at work, thatching a dormer window, which
+exacted his particular skill. Yes, George, poor boy, had gone for a
+soldier. His father had insisted upon it.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite right," said the Squire heartily.</p>
+
+<p>Jane Mucklow sniffed. She dared not contradict the Squire, but a sour
+face betrayed her feelings. The Squire laid a sovereign on the
+mantelpiece, saying that it was for Uncle, with the donor's compliments.
+Jane thanked him, wondering whether the piece of gold could be
+despatched, surreptitiously, to George. Always, Uncle got credit for
+what more deserving individuals accomplished. An exasperating thought! A
+recital of her own aches and pains, however, provoked the promise of a
+bottle of port. Sir Geoffrey shook hands with his former cook on
+leaving, and said graciously:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, remember, Jane, if George gets leave and comes home, I want to
+see him. Send him up to the Hall."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you kindly, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey went his way. As he approached the Yellam cottage, he
+muttered half audibly:</p>
+
+<p>"Good people. Good people."</p>
+
+<p>If he had known the truth&mdash;! At this moment Jane Mucklow was
+reviling him, because she laid her George's approaching death at the
+Squire's door. She made quite sure&mdash;and so did George&mdash;that he
+would be killed in his first action. With much reluctance we present
+these two old servants of the Autocrat smiling deferentially to his face
+and cursing him behind his back! And he believed so absolutely in their
+honesty and sincerity.</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes later, Mrs. Yellam dusted a chair which needed no
+dusting. The Squire sat down upon it. He liked and respected Susan
+Yellam, and she&mdash;you may be sure&mdash;was well aware of that. No
+insincerity lurked behind her welcoming smile. But, in justice to the
+unhappy Jane Mucklow, it must be stated that Susan happened to be
+independent of the Autocrat. Many times and oft had Uncle been
+"behindhand" with his rent. More than once Sir Geoffrey had remitted
+that rent altogether, simply because Uncle was so knowledgeable about
+foxes and deer, and such a wrath-disarming scallywag even in his cups.
+Mrs. Yellam paid her rent punctually, and possessed independent means.
+She had never been in service. She exercised brains, rare in any
+village, which enabled her to apprehend something withheld from the
+unprivileged classes, to wit:&mdash;that position carried with it
+crushing responsibilities and disabilities. Mr. Fishpingle, so near and
+dear to Sir Geoffrey, a friend and servant of fifty years, had often
+pointed out to her the sacrifices made by the Squire for his people. And
+she had kept eyes and ears open to these, deducing inferences from
+them.</p>
+
+<p>For some minutes Sir Geoffrey talked about the Red Cross Hospital,
+enlisting Susan's sympathies. Co-operation had been promised already to
+Lady Pomfret.</p>
+
+<p>"My lady be none too strong," observed Mrs. Yellam.</p>
+
+<p>The Squire was not of Mrs. Yellam's opinion, but he didn't say so. He
+mentioned his proposed lecture, and solemnly invited her considered
+views on the recruiting campaign. She was not enthusiastic.</p>
+
+<p>"Be they wanted real bad, Sir Geoffrey?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course they are."</p>
+
+<p>"Wanted as soldiers more than they be wanted on the land?"</p>
+
+<p>The Squire frowned. He had not weighed the pros and cons of a
+question hardly raised as yet even by far-seeing men.</p>
+
+<p>"Lord Kitchener asks for them."</p>
+
+<p>"I be afeard they'll hang back. 'Tain't easy to believe that us is at
+war. My Alferd be doing wonnerful well; trade stimulated as never
+was."</p>
+
+<p>"I hear that Alfred is engaged to be married. Tell me all about
+it."</p>
+
+<p>At such moments the Squire was at his best, keenly interested, avid
+for details, always ready to assume sponsorial obligations for the
+unborn, and promising five pounds if the little strangers appeared in
+couples. Mrs. Yellam spoke of Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless my soul! She opened the Vicarage door to me this morning. A
+very pretty girl, on the thin side, but modest and intelligent. I shall
+congratulate her. Your Alfred is a very sterling fellow. He deserves the
+right sort of wife. By the way, we shan't want him. You can tell him so
+from me."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam said gravely:</p>
+
+<p>"Alferd be my only son, and I tells him that others should go
+first."</p>
+
+<p>"Um! What does he say to that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing&mdash;not a word."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Susan, I want Alfred to help me. As a carrier he is constantly
+meeting young men and young women. Let him talk to both."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Sir Geoffrey. Alferd be a very forcible man, wi' plenty o'
+brave words and thoughts. Certainly this war be a marrer-stirring
+affair. I hopes as how Master Lionel be enjoyin' good health, and his
+dear lady?"</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain, Susan, Captain. And only yesterday, I remember, he came
+sneaking in here, always sure of a bull's-eye." He glanced at his watch.
+"Time, confound it, is always hurrying on. I'm due at the Home Farm.
+Before I go, one word in your faithful ear. It will travel no further
+for the present, hey?"</p>
+
+<p>"You knows that, Sir Geoffrey."</p>
+
+<p>They both stood up, a fine couple. The Squire patted Mrs. Yellam's
+substantial shoulder. Then he lowered his jolly voice:</p>
+
+<p>"You asked about Mrs. Pomfret. After Christmas I am expecting the
+sort of present I want badly. You understand&mdash;&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lard bless 'ee, Sir Geoffrey, and her too. Tis gert news."</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it? But mum's the word!"</p>
+
+<p>He went on to the Home Farm, whither we need not follow him. But it
+may be added, incidentally, that the translation of Benoni Fishpingle
+from the position of butler at Pomfret Court to the more responsible
+post of Bailiff had worked greatly to the Squire's advantage and
+happiness. He returned home to luncheon in reasonably high spirits,
+having prodded the sides of many fat bullocks. He found Lady Pomfret on
+the terrace facing the park. From her face he divined instantly that
+something of importance had happened. She came up to him, with her slow,
+measured walk, holding out a telegram. It was from Lionel.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">"Expect Joyce and me to-night. I go to France this day
+week."</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch8"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h3>
+
+<h4>RECRUITING</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">The Squire's lecture was an immense success. The village
+school-house overbrimmed with his "people." With a big blackboard behind
+him, and chalk in hand, the lecturer talked simply and convincingly upon
+a subject at that time unfamiliar to his audience, a subject vital to
+any understanding of military movements. He explained the nature of
+platoons, companies, battalions, brigades, divisions and army corps. He
+presented, in short, an army in being. Loud applause greeted this first
+half of the lecture. The second half was devoted to the urgent cause of
+recruiting, and was not, perhaps, quite so enthusiastically acclaimed.
+The Squire, abandoning chalk and blackboard, thrust his hands in his
+pockets, and spoke trenchantly. We need not chronicle what he said. Men
+like him, all over the country, used the same arguments, almost exactly
+the same words. Such speakers forgot what had been said by Tweedledum
+and Tweedledee during the piping times of peace. Men and women, herded
+together, were invited to scrap the slow judgments and convictions of
+their lives. They had been assured again and again by politicians of
+variegated complexions that a mighty navy was fully adequate to defend
+our Empire against attack. Need it be added that such assurance,
+embodying as it did the accumulated wisdom and experience of
+generations, could not be cast incontinently as rubbish to the void.
+English politicians&mdash;using the word in the strongest antithesis to
+statesmen&mdash;have never realised the temper of the country towards
+themselves, the curious and striking indifference of the average man,
+engrossed in his own avocation, to any policy that he has not the wits
+or leisure to assimilate thoroughly. The confidence of this average man
+in the government of the moment has always been poignantly touching, a
+confidence stolidly based upon a belief in the fundamental common sense
+of the nation as a whole. Upset that belief, and the average man becomes
+at once helplessly befogged.</p>
+
+<p>After the Squire had spoken, old Captain Davenant said a few words in
+a more Cambyses' vein. Unhappily, the Captain lacked the geniality and
+persuasiveness of Sir Geoffrey. He believed in the choleric word,
+snapped out viciously. He spoke as he had often spoken in the
+barrack-yard, or in the hunting-field when some heavy-witted yokel had
+headed a fox. Probably he was shrewd enough to realise that this fox of
+recruiting might be headed, and governed himself accordingly. The
+Captain read the lessons on Sunday in the same peremptory tones, raising
+a rasping voice and glaring at the congregation&mdash;a very
+mirth-provoking performance. Uncle embodied the Nether-Applewhite
+verdict on such readings of the Scriptures:</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis a rare lark to hear 'un!"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy and Alfred attended the lecture together, and Alfred
+accompanied his sweetheart to the Vicarage <i>au clair de la lune</i>.
+They had sat at the back of the school-house amongst the younger people,
+and had listened attentively to sundry comments. Alfred, of course,
+accepted as gospel whatever the lord of so goodly a manor might be
+gracious enough to say. Being a carrier, and passing daily through many
+manors, he had made obvious comparisons between his Squire and others to
+the advantage of Sir Geoffrey Pomfret. Remember, also, that as yet,
+although he kept silence on the point, he had not considered the
+possibility of England wanting him, a widow's only son, actively engaged
+in the prosecution of a business vital to the needs and necessities of a
+prosperous village. He hadn't a doubt in his mind, after listening to a
+burning harangue, that the younger men ought to down tools of peace and
+shoulder rifles at the word of command. Some of the half-whispered
+comments disturbed him.</p>
+
+<p>"Are they cowards?" he demanded of Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I can't think that, Alfie."</p>
+
+<p>"You heard them growling like a lot of cantankerous hounds. I'd a
+strong notion to speak my mind, I had. 'Twas lucky for them that Uncle
+Habakkuk was sitting quiet and peaceful amongst the quality. I'll be
+bound he picked up a shilling or two, being the happy father of the
+hero. George, pore soul, stands higher than I ever expected to see him.
+'Tis a sad pity the boy ain't able to hear the brave words as was said
+to-night by Squire and Captain. He's standing on a giddy pinnacle, to be
+sure, and I mind me, in cricket-field, how he'd shut both eyes when a
+ball came at his legs. I see him like that, quavering, on the field of
+battle."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred chuckled. Fancy squeezed his arm, whispering fears not for
+George Mucklow, but for a better man:</p>
+
+<p>"Alfie, please don't joke about that."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, well, Fancy, 'tis a fact that many of our boys are like George.
+Shifting manure's their proper job, and they do that so slow that I get
+weary watching 'em. Young Master Teddy is the real right sort. What he's
+done, giving up a grand position, fills me nose-high with pride. And too
+little was said about him,&mdash;a very notable oversight."</p>
+
+<p>"That was because Mr. Teddy is quality."</p>
+
+<p>"You're right, my pretty maid. Are you aware, Miss Broomfield, that
+your fingers are playing the piano on my ribs?"</p>
+
+<p>Love-making put to flight the less agreeable theme.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam and Jane Mucklow went home side by side. Jane, as the
+mother of the hero, maintained an aggressive silence. Susan Yellam said,
+with a faint inflection of interrogation:</p>
+
+<p>"You be a proud 'ooman to-night, Jane?"</p>
+
+<p>"You be wrong, as usual. I bain't nothing of the sart."</p>
+
+<p>"Squire and old Captain spoke up so handsome about your Garge."</p>
+
+<p>"Be I the old fool they takes me for? 'Twas soft soap, Susan, ladled
+out in a big spoon; flimflam I calls it. Habakkuk can ha' the pride, and
+welcome. He be fair swollen wi' that and ale as Garge is payin'
+for."</p>
+
+<p>"I listen to no ill talk about my brother, Jane."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you'd better walk wi' some one else, Susan Yellam. You sees God
+A'mighty's hand i' this; I don't."</p>
+
+<p>She stamped along home in a silence Mrs. Yellam was too wise to
+break. Jane was a Christian and a churchgoer. But chronic dyspepsia
+seemed to have affected her conscience and principles.</p>
+
+<p>She had predicted aright. At the <i>Sir John Barleycorn</i> Uncle was
+drinking much ale paid for, indirectly, by the hero of the hour. The
+gaffers and married men, including George's married brothers, listened
+approvingly. Uncle "understudied" the Squire as he addressed his
+friends, thrusting his hands into his pockets and standing very
+upright.</p>
+
+<p>"'Twas a notable evening, neighbours, but not a thing fresh to me,
+you understand? Me and Squire went over his so heart-stirrin' remarks
+two days ago, and me and old Captain had talk together this very
+marning. Far be it from me to say as they used my own words egzactly; I
+bain't a scollard, although I can an' do hold me own wheresomedever I
+finds myself. And I tell 'ee, just as Squire did to-night, 'tis our duty
+to cry 'Forrard' and keep on a-hollerin' so long as breath be left in
+our dear bodies. We got to jine in the hunt, boys, and roll our big buck
+over in open. I means, some way, to be in at death, and 'twould be a
+grand privilege to slit his royal throat. I tell 'ee, one and all, that
+the eyes o' the world be on Nether-Applewhite."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle drank some ale, amidst much applause. An old gaffer piped
+up:</p>
+
+<p>"Neighbours and true friends, this be a wondersome time, but I makes
+bold to say that we country fellers bain't properly esteemed in Lunnon
+town. I minds me when I jined what they called a deppitation to that
+gert city. I'd no stomach to go along, seein' as I'd no better clothes
+than I stands up in to-day. But I was out-talked, sonnies, as has
+happened to me by my own wife, time and time agen. We marched very
+proper down such a noble street as I'd reckoned might be found in
+Kingdom Come and nowheres else. And marchin' along so proud and joyous
+as never was, a tremenjous, red-faced man, a-settin' top side of a 'bus,
+wi' the reins in his hand, sings out: 'Halt!' Well, neighbours, we comes
+to a full stop, a-lookin' up at he, and, dang me, if he don't ask a very
+ridic'lous and shameless question."</p>
+
+<p>The old man paused solemnly, looking about him. Some had heard the
+story before; one of the others said curiously:</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever did he say?"</p>
+
+<p>"He says this, sonnies, loud and clear: 'Tell me this,' he says, 'how
+do they keep the crows off the wheat when you fellers comes to town?'
+Neighbours, they was his words. And it struck me all of a heap as we
+wasn't, so to speak, properly esteemed in Lunnon town; and, more, 'tis
+hard to believe that what Habakkuk Mucklow here says is true. There be
+too much i' the world, neighbours all, for it to be gapin' at we."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle felt that he had overstrained a figure of speech. But he dealt
+faithfully with his aged interrupter.</p>
+
+<p>"What did 'ee up and reply to 'un, Granfer?"</p>
+
+<p>The old gaffer gazed around.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! I says nothing at the time, Habakkuk Mucklow, but a very
+forcible remark comes into my mind just one week too late, when I was
+makin' spars in Hollywell Wood. I could ha' downscrambled 'un. 'Twas in
+the month o' November that we marched so gay adown that there Regency
+Street. And in November ther bain't no wheat to keep crows off. 'Twas a
+shameless and very ignerunt remark."</p>
+
+<p>He cackled joyously as a good Samaritan refilled his glass. William
+Saint, feeling cautiously the pulse of his customers, hazarded a
+remark:</p>
+
+<p>"The likely young fellers sat together at the end of the room, and
+they kept together afterwards. I see none of them here with us to-night.
+What does that mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell 'ee," replied Uncle promptly, "and in duty bound, being so
+moral a man, I means to tell Squire to-morrow marning. They be afeard,
+as my Garge was, till I talked to 'un. Such talk as mine, soul-stirrin',
+upliftin' words, be wanted bad in Nether-Applewhite. The young fellers
+has got to fight for they as brought 'un into this wicked world. I
+fought in my time, as you all knows."</p>
+
+<p>"Where?" asked William Saint.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle replied scornfully:</p>
+
+<p>"Never you mind where, Willum Saint. I can fight still, let me tell
+'ee. If you doubts that, take off your coat and come wi' me to
+stable-yard."</p>
+
+<p>William Saint declined politely the invitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Uncle, I meant no offence. We all want to fight the Germans,
+not to quarrel amongst ourselves. You have a glass o' ale with me."</p>
+
+<p>Harmony was restored. Those present, who could hardly be expected to
+fight, agreed cordially that others must do the job for them. The
+youngsters needed encouragement.</p>
+
+<p>"Wi' the end of a boot," concluded Uncle.</p>
+
+<p>The lecture had taken place at seven. At nine the port circulated
+round Sir Geoffrey's mahogany. Hamlin was present and Lionel Pomfret.
+How sadly one recalls the chatter of those early days, the high hopes,
+the confidence that Might would crumble away against Right, the belief
+in the steam-roller&mdash;Russia. On paper, a swift result seemed
+assured. The Squire had thrown off London vapours. His own words had
+intoxicated him. He admitted that recruiting might hang fire in villages
+like Ocknell, but not amongst <i>his</i> people. Lionel backed him up.
+Lady Pomfret and Joyce said nothing. The Parson hoped that it would be
+so. When Sir Geoffrey had said everything to be said, twice over, he
+turned as usual to his wife for an approving nod strangely withheld.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my dear Mary, you agree with me?"</p>
+
+<p>"About the necessity of getting men&mdash;yes. But I am not so
+sanguine as you, Geoffrey, about the patriotism in our village."</p>
+
+<p>"Bless my soul!"</p>
+
+<p>"I think Mr. Hamlin shares my apprehensions."</p>
+
+<p>"I do," admitted the Parson gravely.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Pomfret continued gently:</p>
+
+<p>"I was talking, this afternoon, with Susan Yellam. She looks ahead.
+She faces facts, as we do. But she knows the village better than we
+do."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear&mdash;&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"I have been talking, too, with Ben."</p>
+
+<p>"So have I, Mary; so have I."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Pomfret smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you quite sure, Geoffrey, that you have been talking with Ben,
+and not at him? He is too courteous to interrupt you and too kind to
+contradict you."</p>
+
+<p>"What does old Ben say to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"What Susan Yellam says. The villagers, generally, believe that our
+present army and navy can beat a world in arms against us. You disabused
+them of that this evening, but Captain Davenant undid some of your
+stitches."</p>
+
+<p>The Squire fumed a little.</p>
+
+<p>"The old boy let them have it straight from the shoulder."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. Personally, I deplore such methods."</p>
+
+<p>"Sheep have to be yapped into the fold."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if Mr. Hamlin thinks so?"</p>
+
+<p>Thus challenged, Hamlin spoke&mdash;tentatively.</p>
+
+<p>"I have never been able to regard men and women as animals. I admit a
+superficial similarity. Dogs are nearest to us, but what an Atlantic
+stretches between us and them! Would any training turn a Pekinese into a
+pointer? Or a pug into a greyhound? But you can train any child, of any
+nationality, into what you reasonably please, provided always that you
+are dealing with a sound mind in a sound body. Sheep, under certain
+conditions, have to be yapped into folds, because they are sheep. The
+Prussian system yaps men into the ranks. I would sooner try other
+methods."</p>
+
+<p>The Squire inclined his handsome head.</p>
+
+<p>"Try your own methods, Hamlin, and good luck to you."</p>
+
+<p>He answered quietly: "I shall try them next Sunday."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't say so? From the pulpit?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"I approve with all my heart."</p>
+
+<p>For the moment it rested there. Lionel began to talk of his coming
+campaign. The elder men and both the women, wife and mother, listened to
+his young, eager voice. How keen he was! How sure of himself and of his
+men, particularly the men. He talked persistently of Mr. Thomas Atkins,
+of his artful divagations in peace and his whole-souled valour in war.
+Hamlin reflected that it was good to listen to such talk, good to be
+young and valiant, at such a time, good even to die, if the supreme
+sacrifice were demanded, clean of limb and mind, leaping joyously
+upward, unfettered by disease or vice, <i>fit</i>&mdash;to use the boy's
+own word&mdash;for the greatest adventure of all.</p>
+
+<p>He heard his own boy speaking, just such another! Britain had
+thousands of them, the fine flower of careful training, of a courtesy
+constantly exercised, of a courage sharpened to finest edge by the
+grindstone of games and sports, of an intelligence not quite so keenly
+tempered, but alert enough in moments of stress, of a "morale" which
+nothing could dismay.</p>
+
+<p>Surely they would be invincible?</p>
+
+<p>When Lionel waxed anecdotal, Hamlin's thoughts wandered to the women.
+He had been a stalwart champion of the "Cause," till the militant
+suffragettes took to smashing windows and smacking policemen. One effect
+of the war, and no inconsiderable national asset, was the subsidence of
+these tempestuous petticoats, never to flutter again, so he hoped. From
+women this essentially virile parson had always expected and exacted
+great things. The true prosperity of any country, so he held, flowed
+from them and culminated in them. He had recognised, even at college,
+their immeasurable potentialities&mdash;a favourite word of his. To
+ignore their claims, politically, he contended in and out of print, was
+a colossal blunder. But, quite apart from the granting or withholding of
+female suffrage, he desired ardently to see women doing intelligently
+and thoroughly the work peculiarly their own, whether as matrons or
+spinsters. The death-rate amongst babies appalled him; the physique of
+young girls overworked in over-crowded, over-heated factories and shops
+roused this austere parish priest to fever-heat. He had marvelled at the
+astigmatic insight displayed by sincere statesmen and philanthropists,
+an insight ludicrously so-called, which overlooked women as the
+mightiest lever to raise and regenerate a nation.</p>
+
+<p>And now, in the dim twilight of a world in gloom, he perceived a
+beacon steadily shining. The women would have their opportunity. One
+could adumbrate triumph or disaster by the effort, sustained or
+otherwise, made by them. The men would play their part, if the
+inspiration of the women lay behind them. And in the inevitable
+dislocations of all human enterprise, both during and after the war, he
+beheld women stimulating the men either upward or downward, for good or
+ill, according to the spirit which burned within them.</p>
+
+<p>He gazed at Lady Pomfret and his daughter Joyce, as their eyes dwelt
+upon the son and husband about to sail for France. He could guess what
+sensibilities lacerated their hearts. Outwardly, each remained calm.
+They would be so when the moment of parting came, speeding their warrior
+on his way with smiles, keeping back the tears till he was out of
+sight.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin walked home across the park, and let himself into the Vicarage
+with his latch-key. It was past eleven, and, to his surprise, Fancy had
+not gone to bed. As she lit his candle he chided her with the touch of
+testiness which had ceased to frighten her.</p>
+
+<p>She said quickly:</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted to see you, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"See me at nearly midnight? What about? Surely to-morrow morning
+would do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted to sleep well to-night."</p>
+
+<p>Without a word, he led the way into his study, and lighted two more
+candles.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down," he commanded. "You look tired."</p>
+
+<p>"I feel excited like, sir."</p>
+
+<p>He examined her more attentively, noticing the dilation of her
+pupils, so marked as to alter her expression. Big black eyes seemed to
+be burning out of a white face, but he attributed this seeming <ins
+title="'pallour' in the original">pallor</ins> to an ill-lit room.</p>
+
+<p>"What excites you, Fancy?"</p>
+
+<p>"I sat with Alfred Yellam at the back of school-house amongst the
+young fellows."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Before Alfred left me, he told me to tell you, sir, that the young
+fellows was not too well pleased with what Captain Davenant said. Alfred
+was real vexed at their remarks. He thought you did ought to know."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm much obliged to Alfred for a timely hint. But couldn't this have
+kept till the morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's something else, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Out with it!" He smiled more encouragingly.</p>
+
+<p>"After Alfred went, Molly told me as everybody in village was saying
+as how George Mucklow's father <i>made</i> him go, and that upset the
+other young men.... And then...."</p>
+
+<p>Her soft voice faltered and died away.</p>
+
+<p>"And then...?"</p>
+
+<p>"Molly and me fell to talking about Mr. Edward."</p>
+
+<p>The sympathy in her voice was almost too much for the Parson. He
+shaded his eyes with his hand. She continued in a lower tone:</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse me, sir, for asking you something, but I do want to know so
+bad."</p>
+
+<p>"Ask your question, Fancy."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you tell Mr. Edward to go?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! He wanted to go, and you didn't raise a finger to prevent him.
+If you had, maybe he'd have stayed."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I don't think so."</p>
+
+<p>The Parson's voice was not too steady. How sorely he had been tempted
+to raise that finger none would ever know. Fancy went on,
+breathlessly:</p>
+
+<p>"Molly and me thinks that those who can least be spared may have to
+go, if&mdash;if the others hold back."</p>
+
+<p>"I see. You are thinking of your Alfred?"</p>
+
+<p>He lowered his hand, looking straight at her.</p>
+
+<p>"If you please, sir. He be terrible put out at the others hanging
+back."</p>
+
+<p>"I give my opinion for what it is worth, Fancy. In these deep matters
+none can speak for another. I do not presume to speak for Alfred. But
+Lord Kitchener, if he were here, would assure you that Alfred is
+certainly not needed yet, nor likely to be for a long time."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, sir. That does hearten me. But, if he should want to go,
+and if&mdash;if he left it to me, what should I do? What ought I to
+do?"</p>
+
+<p>Her big eyes were flaming with interrogation. The Parson dared not
+temporise with her. All his thoughts concerning women seemed to have
+become focussed on this individual case. All that the finest gentlewomen
+in the Empire were feeling expressed itself poignantly from the mouth of
+his parlourmaid. All his convictions concerning the potentialities of
+the soul became fortified. They burst suddenly into full flower. Yet he
+answered curtly, distrustful of sentiment when tremendous issues were at
+stake.</p>
+
+<p>"You will tell him, Fancy, to act according to the dictates of his
+own conscience."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean that you will tell him that, regardless of your own
+feelings?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>She got up, begging his pardon for keeping him out of bed. As he rose
+from his chair, he wondered what he could say to comfort her; some word
+of solace that might woo sleep to her tired brain. They went together
+into the small hall. He took her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Have courage and faith. Pray that these may be vouchsafed to you and
+to all of us. Something tells me that you have both already. And if so,
+Fancy, it is well with you. Good-night."</p>
+
+<p class="p5">"Good-night, sir."</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch9"></a>CHAPTER IX</h3>
+
+<h4>PARSON'S METHODS</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Next day, immediately after breakfast, Sir Geoffrey
+summoned his two footmen and the odd man, so called because he does odd
+jobs in a big establishment and works harder for less pay than any other
+servant except, possibly, the scullery-maid. The first footman, Alfred
+Rockley, had married recently his cousin, Prudence, and, for the moment,
+the Squire regarded him as ineligible for service elsewhere. Charles,
+the second footman, was held by the Squire to be an oaf, sadly in need
+of barrack-yard discipline; the odd man had been taken from the Home
+Farm, and felt more at home in a barn than in the pantry.</p>
+
+<p>They had attended the lecture of the previous evening.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey marshalled them in front of him, as he sat at his desk,
+and said genially:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Alfred, what do you think about joining up?"</p>
+
+<p>The gallant fellow answered promptly:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm ready to enlist with Captain Pomfret, Sir Geoffrey."</p>
+
+<p>"So he told me, and it warmed the cockles of my heart. But you have a
+wife and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Somebody else coming, Sir Geoffrey," added a true son of
+Nether-Applewhite.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes; a hint of that reached me, and I was much pleased. Babies,
+b'Jove, ought to command premiums nowadays. Under the circumstances,
+Alfred, you can go back to the pantry. Single men must march first."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred thanked the Autocrat, and withdrew. Charles happened to be the
+Squire's godson, and not a credit to his sponsor. Sir Geoffrey stared at
+his bovine face, now exhibiting a grin which might be seen at funerals
+and on all momentous occasions, a grin indicating nervousness and
+apprehension. If Sir Geoffrey could have looked through a very massive
+desk, he would have reprimanded Charles for standing on one foot and
+scratching his calf with the other.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you propose to do, Charles?"</p>
+
+<p>"I be thinking, Sir Gaffrey."</p>
+
+<p>"Good. I want my people to exercise such thought as God has given to
+'em. What conclusion have you come to&mdash;hey?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mother don't fancy me going for a soldier."</p>
+
+<p>"Possibly not. But this is a case for your conscience, not for your
+mother's fancy."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke with increasing testiness.</p>
+
+<p>"I be thinking, Sir Gaffrey," he repeated, with a still broader
+grin.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Off with you! Think hard for the next twenty-four hours,
+and I'll see you again."</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, Sir Gaffrey."</p>
+
+<p>Charles withdrew, still grinning, and joined Alfred in the pantry,
+where he used encarmined language which provoked a rebuke from the
+middle-aged butler who had stepped into Fishpingle's shoes.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey eyed the odd man.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you to say, my lad?"</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't going to the wars, I ain't."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you ain't going to the wars? Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I'm quite satisfied with my place, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"By the way, what's your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"William Busketts."</p>
+
+<p>"To be sure. Unmarried?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm walking out with Jemima Pavey, a very respectable young
+woman."</p>
+
+<p>"What does Jemima Pavey say about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"She thinks with me, sir. Most of us think the same, as we ain't
+ready to go to furrin' parts. If the Kayser invades Old England, I'm
+ready to shoulder gun, stand behind a tree, as brave as my neighbours,
+and take a true shot at 'un."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey stared at him. Did all the young men in his beloved
+village think this? And, if so, how was Authority going to deal with
+such a lot of damned fools? He said slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"Has it occurred to you, my lad, that if able-bodied men like you
+refuse to enlist willingly, they will be made to do so?
+Willy-nilly&mdash;&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h, you're talking of conscription, sir. Old England won't never
+stand that. 'Tis devilish Proosianism, so they tell me."</p>
+
+<p>"Who has told you that? Answer me!"</p>
+
+<p>"I have heard William Saint say so."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey suppressed an oath. That William Saint, a former servant
+of his own, a tenant, a trusted friend, b'Jove! should so poison men's
+minds at such a time seemed incredible. If this were true, the world was
+indeed upside down. He fidgeted in his chair; his face flushed; wrath
+bubbled within him. He began to despair of his fellow-countrymen.
+However, he choked down his rising rage and said freezingly:</p>
+
+<p>"You can go, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Where to?"</p>
+
+<p>"Back to your work for the present."</p>
+
+<p>William Busketts retreated, slightly moithered, but more at ease. He
+had expected an explosion, followed by the "sack."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey leaned back in his chair, sorely discomfited. It would
+be pleasant to record that happier fortune awaited him in his stables,
+in his gardens, and at the Home Farm; but truth will leap from her well
+on rare occasions. Out of all the young men interviewed upon this
+memorable morning, young men more or less dependent upon the will and
+whim of their interlocutor, only one promised to enlist forthwith. The
+others touched their caps, bobbed their heads, and professed themselves
+willing to do anything except bear arms for their country.</p>
+
+<p>Luncheon at Pomfret Court, accordingly, was not a very cheery meal.
+The Squire sat silent and abstracted; the troubles in his brain upset
+his appetite.</p>
+
+<p>In the afternoon, he called upon Captain Davenant, whom he found
+apoplectic with indignation. The Captain had a modest establishment, but
+he had discharged two men who&mdash;so the Captain
+affirmed&mdash;preferred to guzzle ale when a unique opportunity for
+sticking pig was held out to them.</p>
+
+<p>"Country's rotten," concluded the Captain. "It may be saved by the
+gentlemen, by God! sir, but not by our yokels."</p>
+
+<p>The Squire protested against this, saying, mildly for him:</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps, Davenant, our methods are at fault."</p>
+
+<p>"That be damned!" roared the Captain.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, it's fairly obvious that so far our recruiting campaign
+has not been an overwhelming success. Hamlin means to have a go at 'em
+on Sunday. I haven't a notion how he'll tackle the job, but there it is.
+What is your opinion of William Saint?"</p>
+
+<p>"A very shifty fellow, Pomfret, with a face the colour of skilly. He
+licks your boots. I wouldn't let him black <ins title="'mind' in the
+original">mine</ins>. By the way, I've promised Habakkuk Mucklow
+half-a-sovereign for every cove he collars."</p>
+
+<p>"That we should have come to such a pass!"</p>
+
+<p>"Light a fresh cigar, and we'll go to the stables. When I'm fed up
+with mankind, I always take a squint at my gees."</p>
+
+<p>"So do I, Davenant. But they'll have to go, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Mine are ready for 'em."</p>
+
+<p>This talk took place in mid-September, at a moment when an
+astrologer, doing a roaring trade not far from Piccadilly Circus,
+predicted confidently that the final disappearance of the All-Highest
+would take place upon the twenty-fifth day of October, 1914! Many
+believed him. And the mere sight of our splendid regulars route-marching
+over country roads, singing "Tipperary" as they swung along, deepened in
+the hearts of those who beheld them the conviction that French's Army
+was quite sufficient to stem the Hun tide, and, later on, sweep it back
+to Berlin. The pacifist press was widely read by men who had never
+looked at a newspaper before.</p>
+
+<p>Unspeakable atrocities had begun in prostrate Belgium. Some refused
+to credit them. Others shrugged their shoulders and remarked blandly
+that war was not five o'clock tea. Out of the seething mass of
+contradictions, affirmations, exaggerations and recriminations, men in
+the rural districts who could hardly read and write were invited to step
+forward and abandon the beaten tracks. Can one blame them, to-day, that
+they shrank at first from a desperate plunge into the unknown?</p>
+
+<p>Upon the following Sunday, Nether-Applewhite Church was crowded to
+the galleries.</p>
+
+<p>All over the country, churches were filling up or emptying according
+to the virtue that emanated from the preachers of God's Word. One
+wonders whether ministers of the Gospel apply this numerical test to
+themselves. It is certain, however, that those, like Hamlin, whether in
+Church or Chapel, who laid aside for the moment merely Biblical <ins
+title="'exigesis' in the original">exegesis</ins> and the expounding of
+doctrine and dogma, and concentrated spiritual and intellectual energies
+upon dealing faithfully with the problem of human conduct as affected by
+a catastrophic war, had no reason to complain that they addressed empty
+pews.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Davenant read the Lessons as if he were declaiming the Riot
+Act. The good man believed that the young men present were shirking
+hounds to be rated and whipped up to their Master. Under the lash of his
+rasping voice, even Mrs. Yellam, louder in fervent response than usual,
+winced and frowned. The Parson, in his three-decker, wondered whether a
+discreet hint would serve to tone down the zeal of this militant
+Christian, who positively wallowed in the slaughters and comminations of
+the Old Testament. The Captain, as a stout upholder of Church and Crown,
+must be handled delicately; a dry old stick breaks so easily. Uncle sat
+with his wife in the Mucklow pew, half-way down the nave. He carried a
+high head, and thought of the half-sovereigns soon to be rattling in and
+out of his pocket. Jane sat beside him, sniffing audibly. Alfred Yellam
+and Fancy Broomfield were opposite to each other, with the aisle between
+them.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin ascended the pulpit.</p>
+
+<p>He chose for his text a maxim of Bishop Berkeley:</p>
+
+<p>"Where the heart is right, there is true patriotism."</p>
+
+<p>The shuffling of skirts and occasional coughs soon died down. Sir
+Geoffrey, from his coign of vantage in the chancel, perceived with some
+astonishment that Hamlin had a script on the cushion in front of him. As
+a rule he preached without notes. The Squire inferred rightly that the
+Parson deemed his theme to be of such paramount importance that he
+distrusted the effect of one careless, unconsidered word. Hamlin,
+however, possessed long sight. He could read his typewritten sheets
+without lifting them. Few in the congregation were aware of them.</p>
+
+<p>He began with the curt statement that the actual word "patriotism" is
+not to be found in the Bible. This challenged attention immediately. The
+Squire fidgeted. He considered that Hamlin had made a shockingly bad
+start. A weapon had been thrust into the hands of recalcitrants. This
+apprehension, however, vanished as the preacher set forth convincingly,
+in words that children could understand, the obsessing love of country,
+of the Promised Land, which informed and sustained God's Chosen People
+during forty weary years in the wilderness. With a swift transition, he
+passed to the New Testament, dwelling, with more insistence, upon the
+love that had inspired simple, obscure men to forsake home, country and
+kindred, to fight God's battles in new and strange countries. When he
+paused, before touching his real theme, he had the ears of his
+congregation. He indulged in no gestures, his familiar tones fell
+quietly. So far, what he had said was preparatory, novel neither in
+theme nor treatment. None knew better than he how sadly his parishioners
+were lacking in imagination. His success, as a preacher, had not been
+gained by dealing with abstractions or by inviting ill-educated persons
+to transplant themselves to surroundings and conditions which the wisest
+of moderns find difficulty in apprehending. Hamlin believed in the
+personal appeal.</p>
+
+<p>He leaned forward out of his pulpit, gazing keenly at the faces
+upturned to his.</p>
+
+<p>"I am wondering," he said slowly, "how many of you young unmarried
+men will be here a few Sundays from now?"</p>
+
+<p>He paused again. His voice was gentler:</p>
+
+<p>"I am wondering, also, what the mothers and sisters and sweethearts
+of these young men are thinking to-day, and what part they mean to
+play&mdash;to-morrow." Then he said austerely: "Where the heart is
+right, there is true patriotism."</p>
+
+<p>Many hearts began to beat faster, as he went on, picking his way,
+pausing again and again, but never faltering. The Squire, upright in his
+comfortable chair, became conscious of the man's grip upon everybody
+present, gentle and simple. He could see their tense faces.</p>
+
+<p>"I have never doubted one great thing. I believe in the soul and its
+immortality. In God's sight all souls are equal, because they are part
+of Him. From birth that soul is struggling to inform the body, in all
+its functions. It never tires; it never despairs. I dare to affirm that
+it is most active when body and mind are fighting against it, spurning
+it, denying, perhaps, its very existence or power. I affirm, further,
+that this quickening spirit within us may be least potent to achieve its
+purpose when body and mind are stagnant, steeped in apathy, content with
+the things of this earth, food, drink, clothes, money
+and&mdash;pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"Try to believe, for a moment, that your souls are omnipotently
+right. In the text I have chosen, Bishop Berkeley uses the word 'heart.'
+I take it that he meant mind. Are your minds right? Are they working in
+harmony with your souls? Each of you is called upon to answer that
+question in relation to this world-war, and what that war may demand of
+each of us. It is the duty of some of you to go, not grudgingly, not
+because pressure is brought to bear upon you, not because you want to
+pose before others as more valiant than they are, not for any selfish
+reason whatever, but in the same spirit which informed the apostles, men
+like yourselves, hard workers, absorbed, as you are, in their own
+affairs, who abandoned everything with one unswerving purpose before
+them&mdash;the regeneration of a world in pain.</p>
+
+<p>"A great Cause is animating all of us.</p>
+
+<p>"This war may inspire some of you to actions undreamed of in days of
+peace, to a valour which you cannot measure if you would, because the
+hour provoking it has not yet come. Sooner or later that hour comes to
+the greatest and the humblest. And the manner of our rising to it may
+shape anew our lives and other lives, and determine our progress here
+and hereafter. From the cradle to the grave, each of us carries a
+sleeping energy capable of immense expansion, which wakes when the great
+opportunity presents itself.</p>
+
+<p>"Some of you, I daresay, are unconscious of this latent power. We
+don't expect much of a child, do we? A child eats and plays and sleeps.
+But children of the tenderest years have performed amazing, incredible
+deeds. Why? Because of this Divine fund of spiritual force. And we who
+are past middle-age; how difficult it is to say, with any certainty, how
+early we began, resolutely, to exercise what is called the human
+will.</p>
+
+<p>"I ask you again, are your hearts right? I repeat again that your
+souls are right. Obey the voice of conscience, and it will be well with
+you. It is the duty of some of us to stay here in Nether-Applewhite. I
+wish with all my heart that I could go, but I must stay. A very solemn
+obligation rests with the women. I have never doubted the immense
+influence consciously or unconsciously exercised by you women over men.
+Are your hearts right? Do you realise, thinking, as you must do, of your
+dependence upon your bread-winners, that you may be hindering instead of
+helping those whom you love; that, in urging them to stay at home, you
+may be taking from them an opportunity to rise to their full stature,
+never to be offered again?</p>
+
+<p>"What does Bishop Berkeley mean by <i>true</i> patriotism?</p>
+
+<p>"Are the Germans true patriots? Let us admit that they are passionate
+lovers of their Fatherland. But their patriotism would seem to be an
+insensate fury of self-interest, shrinking from no outrage to be
+inflicted on others, provided only that the material end be
+accomplished&mdash;world-dominion. I cannot bring myself to speak,
+before young women and children, of the atrocities deliberately wreaked
+upon helpless Belgians. They are so abominable that details are
+unprintable in clean newspapers.</p>
+
+<p>"Is, then, their form of patriotism true?</p>
+
+<p>"What form will your patriotism take? Will it be true, springing to
+life and strength, out of a right mind inspired by the soul; or will it
+pattern itself after the Prussian model, concerning itself with material
+gain regardless of spiritual loss?</p>
+
+<p>"Ask yourself these things.</p>
+
+<p>"Before I close I want to say this. For many years I have worked
+amongst you, in sickness and in health, in prosperity and adversity, and
+your welfare is dear to me. Sometimes I have felt discouraged, acutely
+sensible of failure and disappointment. For many of you I have cherished
+ambitions, and some of these have been realised. And it is this which
+has sustained and fortified me in the dark hours which none can escape.
+What one can do may be done by another; not in the same way, perhaps,
+but in the same direction&mdash;upward and onward. I believe, with all
+the faith that is in me, that you will rise, with right and steadfast
+hearts, to meet this stupendous emergency. I am at your service. My
+house is open to you when I am in it. If you want counsel, if you feel
+perplexed, as you may well do, come to me, and together we will attempt
+to find a way. I shall not appeal to any one of you, personally."</p>
+
+<p>The congregation filed out of the church. Many walked home in
+silence. Alfred Yellam booked no orders in the churchyard on that
+Sunday. Susan Yellam smelt no odour of baked meats as she passed the
+baker's. Uncle, after greeting them not so exuberantly as usual, said
+with conviction:</p>
+
+<p>"A very moving and proper discourse. 'Tis strange that me and Pa'son
+do think just alike. I felt as I might ha' been preaching that upliftin'
+sermon myself. His motter be mine&mdash;upward and onward! He be
+counting on me to play my part, and I shan't disapint 'un."</p>
+
+<p>His wife said tartly:</p>
+
+<p>"There be one preacher you'll never disappoint, Habakkuk."</p>
+
+<p>"You means Pa'son?"</p>
+
+<p>"I means&mdash;yourself."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle laughed, patting her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Old dear, I've heard 'ee make more foolish remarks."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam said no word about the sermon till the midday meal was
+over. When Alfred had lighted his pipe, she came and sat near him.</p>
+
+<p>"Alferd?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"There be moments when Mr. Hamlin do soar, so to speak, high above
+me. I be a very unhappy 'ooman this day."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred opened his mouth and left it open, gaping with amazement. The
+Parson's sermon had moved him to the marrow, particularly the references
+to the women, because he was well aware of the influence exercised over
+him by his mother and Fancy, the more percolating because he never
+admitted it except to himself. Nevertheless he knew that his mother was
+subject to moods and tenses which no ordinary man could conjugate. She
+held herself strictly to account upon matters affecting conduct,
+somewhat complacently aware that less robust spirits cited her as a
+model. Her cocksureness about others, oddly enough, accentuated
+pitifully her private opinion about Susan Yellam. From time to time
+Alfred alone was privileged to behold this strong woman self-shorn of
+her strength. He could remember well a terrible fortnight after Lizzie
+died, when Mrs. Yellam lay in bed and refused even his efforts to
+console her. The remembrance of her grim, set face came back to him now,
+as he stared mutely at her, wondering what he ought to say, and
+miserably conscious that the situation lay far beyond him.</p>
+
+<p>Why should his mother be unhappy?</p>
+
+<p>Had he been a student of history, he might have reflected that
+Boadicea, possibly, ruled wisely everybody except herself.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam continued:</p>
+
+<p>"I have the notion that Mr. Hamlin expects too much o' me."</p>
+
+<p>"What a queer, upsetting idea!"</p>
+
+<p>"I be asking myself if my heart be right. It bain't."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe 'tis your stomach, Mother."</p>
+
+<p>"No, Alferd. I be no true patriot."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I never! If such a woman as you are is bogged down, where are
+we, I ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"You be in the right path, Alferd. 'Tis some comfort to think o'
+that. Now, let me bide wi' my own thoughts. Fancy be waiting for 'ee. Be
+kind to the maid, Alferd, if so be as you find her, like me, down on
+beam ends after this marning's sermon."</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy'll be all right, I wager."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe. I tell 'ee this: we women be fearfully and wonnerfully
+made&mdash;a puzzle to ourselves and all mortal men. That be a fact, my
+son. I knows this too hard for any man to understand. If you stayed on
+here wi' me, wi' the whole-souled notion o' comforting an unhappy
+'ooman, I should wax peevish wi' 'ee. God forgive us! We be cruel to
+they we love, when life goes wrong wi' us."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred wisely had a squint at his motor-'bus to hearten himself up,
+and then took the road to the Vicarage.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam cleared away the dinner-things and washed them up. It was
+too early, as yet, to expect visitors. She went into the parlour and
+opened the big Bible, staring at Alfred's name and her own. She had rid
+herself of him cleverly. Had he stayed, she would have broken down. She
+wanted to make him swear to remain in Nether-Applewhite. She had made up
+her mind to do so that very morning. Every word spoken by the Parson
+seemed to be directed at her; his chance shafts quivered in the heart
+that was not right.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">She closed the Bible.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch10"></a>CHAPTER X</h3>
+
+<h4>FANCY'S ORDEAL</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Parson's methods bore fruit. Within the week several young
+men came forward, and certain young women, on their own initiative,
+formed a small society to encourage enlistment. Uncle claimed two or
+three half-sovereigns from Captain Davenant to which, possibly, he was
+not entitled. The Captain raised a protest against one case, having
+specific information that female influence had been diligently at work.
+Uncle laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! That be true, Captain. But 'twas me as talked first to the
+young 'ooman, training her, so to speak, and puttin' my brave words into
+her pretty mouth. But I bain't one to keer about money. Everybody knows
+that. I be working as never was for my whole Sovereign, King Garge, not
+for half 'uns."</p>
+
+<p>Captain Davenant paid the extra half-sovereign. Uncle's disarming
+grin proved irresistible.</p>
+
+<p>Ultimately, Nether-Applewhite did better than contiguous villages. In
+Ocknell, with an impoverished squire and a nonentity for a parson, no
+young men came forward during the first three months.</p>
+
+<p>About Christmas, George Mucklow returned home on leave, hardly
+recognisable. Nether-Applewhite was impressed by his martial bearing,
+when he strode down the village street, cocking his head at a
+much-admired angle, with his buttons shining in the sun. Young Hamlin,
+with a corporal's stripes upon his arm, had leave at the same time.
+George and he received an ovation, wandering in and out of the cottages,
+talking and laughing as if war were the greatest lark in the world.
+Recruiting was much stimulated. The girls liked to be seen with a "boy"
+in khaki.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Lionel Pomfret had been with the gallant Seven Divisions,
+sharing their hardships and glories. He wrote home in good spirits,
+making light of what he had endured, but a postscript in a letter
+received in early December was illuminating.</p>
+
+<p>"At present I feel that when I return to Nether-Applewhite I shall
+never want to leave it again. All the German prisoners taken by our men
+are fatly content. One chap, formerly a barber at Nottingham, told me
+that he'd been looking for us ever since he joined up!"</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the proudest moment of Lady Pomfret's life came to her when
+she visited a wounded Green Jacket at Netley, who had been in Lionel's
+company. The man said to her:</p>
+
+<p>"During the retreat from Mons, my lady, the Captain kept up all our
+spirits, laughing at us and chaffing us. We loved him."</p>
+
+<p>So far, Lionel had not been touched, but, much to the anxiety of his
+mother, he never mentioned his own health. She knew how delicate his
+lungs were. Would they stand the cruel rigours of the trenches in
+mid-winter?</p>
+
+<p>She was now established as the Commandant of the Red Cross Hospital,
+and wore a red uniform which became her vastly well. For three months,
+preceding Christmas, wounded Belgians were cared for and entertained by
+the devoted band of women who rallied round the lady of the manor. Jane
+Mucklow cooked for the wounded; Susan Yellam was installed as
+bottle-washer in chief. Sir Geoffrey would march through the Long Saloon
+and wonder where he was. All the beautiful furniture and porcelain had
+been put away. Nine cots on each side of the stately room stood side by
+side. In the centre was a large table covered with puzzles and
+paraphernalia for indoor games. At smaller tables the convalescents
+played interminably at cards, piquet and écarté. They amused each other
+very well, not so dependent upon their entertainers as the Tommies who
+succeeded them. One man sang beautifully; another wrote admirable verse.
+Before the war, the versifier had been on the staff of a Brussels
+newspaper. All these men were unanimous about one thing&mdash;an <i>idée
+fixe</i>. They hoped and prayed that they might never be asked to fight
+again. Some declared their intention of remaining for ever and ever in
+England. It was heart-breaking to listen to their accounts of ravished
+and pillaged Belgium.</p>
+
+<p>Above them hung the famous French prints. Beautiful, laughing dames
+and exquisite cavaliers looked down upon bandaged heads and shattered
+limbs. The contrast never failed to strike Sir Geoffrey. His prints
+stood for life as he had known it, gay, easy, refined, cultivated,
+essentially aristocratic. Was the Old Order, which he loved, passing
+inexorably out of sight? Would life, after the war, cease to be
+leisurely and easy for the upper classes? Would the payment of a
+stupendous National Debt fall upon them? And, if so, how would it be
+met? Would a triumphant democracy divide up the big estates? Could they
+be run properly upon diminished rent-rolls?</p>
+
+<p>He confronted these questions ill at ease inwardly. Outwardly, as he
+had assured his wife, he carried "a stiff tail." The politeness of the
+Belgians oppressed him. If he came into the ward and addressed a man
+lying in bed, the poor fellow would struggle to sit up and salute him.
+One cheery-faced boy, with eight wounds, passed the time laughing and
+crying; then he would fall asleep, smiling in his sleep like a
+child.</p>
+
+<p>But recruiting had been damped down by Authority, because housing and
+equipment were so short. Sir Geoffrey was not encouraged to stump the
+county&mdash;as he offered to do&mdash;and deliver his lecture. His old
+school-fellow at the War Office gave him a hint:</p>
+
+<p>"We want the men, but not too many at once."</p>
+
+<p>In the village, women not engrossed with Red Cross work sewed
+feverishly upon shirts and pyjamas, and knitted comforters. The Squire
+examined some of the pyjamas, and exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"Thank God! I don't have to wear them."</p>
+
+<p>Shooting and hunting and football went on much as usual, to the
+amazement of our French Allies. Some of our cavalry regiments in France
+wanted to import a pack of hounds. The French Mandarins forbade it.</p>
+
+<p>Early in January, a curt telegram from the War Office reached Sir
+Geoffrey, as he stood in the hall, after a day in his coverts, shooting
+cock-pheasants.</p>
+
+<p>"Lionel Pomfret wounded, degree not stated."</p>
+
+<p>Next morning, Sir Geoffrey hastened to London and to the War Office.
+No details were forthcoming. The men he saw were kind and sympathetic.
+Captain Pomfret might be badly wounded, but the odds were against that.
+The anxious father couldn't find out where his son was, or even where he
+was likely to be. He engaged rooms at a hotel and spent a wretched
+afternoon at his club. Twenty-four hours dragged themselves by. He was
+wondering how much longer he could bear the strain, when the second
+telegram reached him.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">"Arrived Southampton. Destination unknown. Love.
+<span class="smcap">Lionel</span>."</p>
+
+<p>The Squire, you may be sure, shared these good tidings with many
+friends, who congratulated him warmly. Obviously, the wound must be
+light. Exasperations followed, thick and fast. Sir Geoffrey hurried to
+the War Office, and thence to the Admiralty, and finally to Waterloo,
+where, eventually, he had the joy of seeing his son step out of a train,
+with a much-bandaged head, but apparently fit and in the highest
+spirits. A bit of shrapnel had knocked him down, inflicting a
+superficial scalp-wound, which was healing rapidly. Across his overcoat
+was a perfectly-defined cut made by a bullet which had missed him and
+killed the man at his side. He shewed his father a scar upon his neck,
+where another bullet had grazed him. Lionel talked fast and fluently. He
+had been in innumerable small actions since Mons, and had seen whole
+regiments cut to bits.</p>
+
+<p>His destination for the moment was a private hospital for officers in
+Belgrave Square. There his wound was dressed, and Sir Geoffrey talked
+persuasively to the Sister-in-charge and Surgeon, who, under pressure,
+allowed their patient to dine with his father quietly at a club.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Geoffrey never forgot that dinner.</p>
+
+<p>War, as soldiers see it, was brought vividly home to him by a young
+man who talked of indescribable horrors as if they were negligible.
+Everything was accepted by Lionel as part of the "show." The father
+listened, thinking of the pin-pricks which, since August, had so
+irritated his sensitive skin, and felt grievously ashamed of himself.
+But, in Lionel's place, with Lionel's amazing experience, he, too, was
+sensible that he would talk coolly. That was part of the tradition of
+the Service. Tremendous issues must be so faced.</p>
+
+<p>He took his son back to Belgrave Square at half-past nine.</p>
+
+<p>Lionel slept soundly. The Squire lay awake most of the night.
+Throughout dinner, he had suppressed his feelings. And on the threshold
+of the nursing-home, the father had found no other words than these:</p>
+
+<p>"It's jolly to have you back again, old chap."</p>
+
+<p>That was all, and, perhaps, enough.</p>
+
+<p>In bed, the Squire had no inclination to sleep. He wanted to think
+things out. He wanted to adjust past and present conditions, to strike
+some happy mean between them. Could he interpret the significance of
+this never-ending slaughter? Lionel had told him of a German regiment
+pushing too far ahead, and annihilated, not a man left. That had been
+described, also, as a "show."</p>
+
+<p>More&mdash;and worse&mdash;Lionel ridiculed the suggestion of an
+early peace. Kitchener was under the mark. The war was quite likely to
+last five years.</p>
+
+<p>Five years!</p>
+
+<p>Men such as his son, decent, quiet, sport-loving chaps, admitted with
+a laugh&mdash;with a laugh!!!&mdash;that the enemy was "hot stuff," and
+that attrition would determine the end&mdash;and nothing else.</p>
+
+<p>Attrition.</p>
+
+<p>He attempted to envisage what attrition meant where millions were
+engaged. Put the lot at twenty millions. How many would perish? What
+Divine Purpose could be accomplished by such a holocaust?</p>
+
+<p>But his boy was safe for the next few weeks.</p>
+
+<p>Two days later he brought him back to Pomfret Court.</p>
+
+<p>Lionel received a soul-warming reception from gentle and simple
+within and without a five-mile radius of his home. Apart from the young
+man's personal charm and good looks, he happened to be the first officer
+to return home wounded. The fact that the wound was not serious, that he
+treated it as a convenient peg upon which to hang three weeks' leave,
+made no difference. Indeed, it increased rather than diminished his
+influence in Nether-Applewhite so far as recruiting was concerned. His
+gay voice, his happy inconsequence, the vitality that radiated from him
+as he moved briskly from cottage to cottage, or rode up to talk to men
+working upon the property, achieved effects so far-reaching that
+possibly Hamlin was the only man in the parish able to measure them. The
+Squire and Davenant had appealed trenchantly for volunteers, using the
+time-worn arguments of Authority and believing sincerely enough that
+deaf ears might hear their message if it were shouted loud enough. The
+Parson, wiser man, had appealed to those same ears believing, with
+greater conviction, that noise and violence, veiled threats, bribery in
+any form, would defeat their ends. Right action, he contended, would
+come from within, at the persuasive, insistent call of conscience.
+Lionel Pomfret hit the trail&mdash;to use the Western
+expression&mdash;which wanders between the high road and the low.
+Looking at the gallant fellow, sitting erect on his horse, it seemed
+clear even to eyes dimmed by living in the twilight of unintellectual
+surroundings, that he impersonated something which captivates the rural
+mind more than anything else&mdash;excitement. Lionel told the
+labourers, none of whom had been farther afield than Salisbury or
+Southampton, stories of France bubbling over with humour and high
+spirits. And if this light-heartedness had astonished his father, we can
+imagine what bewilderment it begat in simpler minds. Many of them
+realised that in holding back they were missing <i>fun</i>! One hardly
+dares to use such a word. But it burst, like a bomb, from the lips of a
+man who had been "out there," who had been "through it," who bore scars,
+and who laughed at them.</p>
+
+<p>Many joined up; more held back.</p>
+
+<p>Laugh as he did about everything that concerned his own adventures
+and misadventures, Lionel became intensely serious concerning the main
+issue, trembling still in the balance. Kitchener of Khartoum must have
+more and more men. Otherwise, the sacrifices made and the hardships
+endured by the splendid Seven Divisions would be in vain, and,
+ultimately, directly or indirectly, the enemy would triumph.</p>
+
+<p>Charles, the second footman, and the odd man, enlisted within a week
+of Lionel's return home. Their places in the establishment were taken by
+maids.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the first Sunday in February fill-dyke, Alfred Yellam walked
+out, as usual, with Fancy. She had noticed, during the Morning Service,
+that Mrs. Yellam's responses were not quite so fervent as usual, and the
+sermon, a good one, seemed to fail to hold Alfred's attention.
+Servant-maids are acute observers where their interests are concerned.
+They divine a frown before the master's forehead is wrinkled; they
+anticipate a harsh word before it is spoken by the mistress. Alfred
+walked beside Fancy in silence. This, taken by itself, was not
+disturbing. The more privileged classes often wonder why humbler couples
+sitting upon benches in the parks, or walking aimlessly amongst the
+trees, appear to be so satisfied with a silence which they stigmatise as
+stupidity. If, on the other hand, curiosity led our Olympians to
+interrogate the more thoughtful of these couples, they might be
+astonished to discover that the never-ending chatter in our
+drawing-rooms provokes much the same indictment from those whom they
+regard as far below them. The shrill screams of laughter, the
+parrot-house babble, fox-trotting, and the bacchantic waving of arms
+bare to the shoulder are often summed up as&mdash;"monkey-shines." To
+men and women who work desperately hard throughout the week, the
+silences of Sunday steal unawares, lapping them to a rest which is real
+refreshment. Fancy, for example, loved to stroll beside Alfred, feeling
+his sturdy arm about her waist, and knowing from its convincing pressure
+that his thoughts were dwelling upon her as hers dwelt upon him,
+revelling in a future which would bring them closer together.</p>
+
+<p>But, to-day, somehow, his silence was not so reassuring.</p>
+
+<p>For the time of year, the weather happened to be mild. Spring was
+abroad in the land. Fancy heard her voice in the bleating of the
+new-born lambs; she beheld her in the snow-drops; Spring's sweet breath
+beat upon a pink cheek when the south-west breeze sighed in the yews and
+pine-tops.</p>
+
+<p>And yet, misgivings assailed the maid.</p>
+
+<p>They had walked from the Vicarage, through Nether-Applewhite, and
+past Mrs. Yellam's cottage whither they would return for tea. Fancy had
+learnt to love the village with its general air of sleepy, comfortable
+prosperity. She would be perfectly content to live here all her days.
+Occasional jaunts to Sarum or to the exciting side-shows of Boscombe and
+Bournemouth could only serve to enhance the more solid charms of home.
+Alfred had spoken once, at the moment when they left the <i>Sir John
+Barleycorn</i> tavern behind them.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you like William Saint, Fancy?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, Alfie. I ain't never spoken to him, nor him to me.
+'Tis his face, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother thinks he's a danger to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Gracious!"</p>
+
+<p>"William moves with the times, a far-seeing man. And snug, with money
+in bank and credit, too. Mother says he's after my business. I got ahead
+by buying my motor-'bus. Yes&mdash;William Saint might have sneaked my
+good business. He knows folk far and wide, as I do. That's bread and
+cheese to a carrier. And he knows how to tickle 'em with pleasant words.
+That's cakes and ale."</p>
+
+<p>He said no more. Fancy felt vaguely troubled. She had taken Alfred's
+profitable business for granted. Fellow-servants and villagers had
+assured her, with a sub-acid inflection underlying congratulation, that
+she was lucky indeed to have got so warm a man as the carrier. Like most
+of her class, she entertained nebulous ideas about how money was made,
+although she had been constrained all her life to use such money as came
+to her thriftily and with a very lively sense of its elusive attributes
+in slipping through careless fingers. The slow building-up of a business
+had never engrossed her thoughts. But she knew well enough, poor child,
+how rapidly such a business may disintegrate, and fall to pieces. That
+calamity had been her father's bitter experience.</p>
+
+<p>They followed the Avon, strolling leisurely up-stream till they
+reached a small covert much beloved by hunting-men because it always
+harboured a stout fox.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's go in wood," said Alfred.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't it be damp, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"I want to talk to you."</p>
+
+<p>Her heart beat faster. Something was coming&mdash;What?</p>
+
+<p>Alfred led the way to a hurdler's hut, a rough shed, where the lovers
+sat down upon a heap of dry chips. A delicious smell of bark filled the
+air. George Mucklow had worked here often, before he was dragooned into
+the Army. With the smell of bark, dominating it, rose the odour of damp
+earth, always so significant, bearing its double message. From earth we
+have come; to it we must return. Fancy's sensitive nose could detect yet
+another odour. An ancient coat, much soiled by time and weather, had
+been thrown upon the pile of chips. In an olfactory sense the coat was
+eloquent of labour, of long perspiring hours and all that such hours
+hold. Fancy's nostrils were not offended. But she refused to sit on it.
+Alfred, wearing his Sunday best, was not so particular.</p>
+
+<p>He wasted little time in preliminaries. And he spoke with a geniality
+assumed, as Fancy guessed, for her benefit.</p>
+
+<p>"The young Captain," he began, "has stirred us all up with his
+pleasant tongue. Now don't jump! Let me tell my tale."</p>
+
+<p>He told it simply. Upon the previous Friday, it appeared, Alfred had
+fallen into talk with the Pavey boys, who worked on a farm between
+Nether-Applewhite and Salisbury. The Paveys were reckoned by Sir
+Geoffrey to be stout specimens of sound breeding. Jemima Pavey, it may
+be recalled, "walked out" with William Busketts, the odd man. It is
+likely, therefore, that the enlistment of William affected profoundly
+Jemima's brothers, both single, both of military age. Alfred, urged on,
+no doubt, by Lionel Pomfret, had taken upon himself the task of
+persuading the Paveys to follow William to the wars. According to
+Alfred, a hot discussion had ensued. The Paveys were regarded by the
+Squire as sound in body but weak and plastic of mind. Wiser men than the
+Autocrat of Nether-Applewhite consistently underrated the intelligence
+of young men like the Paveys, abnormally acute when stimulated by
+self-interest. Ultimately, so Alfred said, the Paveys had twitted him
+offensively upon the fact that he preached what he did not practise.
+And, oddly enough, poor Alfred was not prepared for this sudden turning
+of tables. He, too, was single and of military age. The fact that he
+happened to be engaged in a lucrative business served to sharpen railing
+tongues. At long last, after much vituperation (as Alfred admitted) on
+both sides, the Paveys had delivered a momentous ultimatum. They pledged
+themselves to enlist at once, if Alfred agreed to join them. More, they
+were prepared to answer for half-a-dozen others. To gain time for
+thought, Alfred invited them to obtain some similar pledge from these
+others. And, before Service that morning, the pledge had been
+forthcoming. In <ins title="'fine' in the original">time</ins>, if
+Alfred donned khaki, eight of the best would follow so striking an
+example. Alfred concluded pleasantly:</p>
+
+<p>"You see, Fancy, that I'm up against it."</p>
+
+<p>Engrossed with his own exciting narrative, he had failed to notice
+her. From the beginning of the tale to the end, she never moved. The
+impending sword had fallen upon her frail body, lacerating cruelly every
+fibre of her being. All fears, all sensibilities which from birth had
+differentiated her from more robust young women, sensibilities which
+dwelt upon things spiritual rather than material, sensibilities which
+had been further quickened by her father's unmerited misfortunes,
+constraining her early in life to envisage the future as likely to hold
+more pain than pleasure, these rose up and choked utterance. Had Alfred
+looked at her, at this poignant moment, his decision&mdash;not as yet
+reached&mdash;-might have been different. He looked away from her,
+staring through the open side of the hut, seeing the rows and rows of
+trees, standing like soldiers, awaiting the inevitable axe.</p>
+
+<p>Presently Fancy said quietly:</p>
+
+<p>"Have you spoken to your mother? Does she know?"</p>
+
+<p>Alfred turned, taking her hand. But the supreme moment had passed.
+Fancy was now herself again, or rather she had become what her will and
+conscience made her to appear&mdash;an outwardly calm young woman, who,
+having swiftly read her own soul, was seeking to read the soul of the
+man beside her.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred answered hesitatingly:</p>
+
+<p>"Mother's wonderful. I never quite understand her. I ain't said a
+word, but back of her dear mind is something."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going to tell her?"</p>
+
+<p>Alfred squirmed a little, certain that Mrs. Yellam would oppose his
+going. And he could not reckon accurately what obedience he owed to a
+mother in such a matter. He said gently:</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind that, Fancy. What do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>He held her hand tightly, but sat beside her rigid as she was.
+Afterwards, again and again, she wondered what her reply would have been
+if her lover, at such a crisis, had appealed to her body instead of to
+her mind. If he had seized her in his arms, kissing her passionately,
+evoking a passionate response from her, exciting her physical senses,
+lulling to sleep her conscience, could she have resisted such an
+appeal?</p>
+
+<p>It was not made. Did he deliberately leave her free to speak calmly,
+as he had spoken? Was he thinking of her? Was he thinking of his mother?
+Who could blame him if all thought were focussed upon himself? And his
+next words confirmed her suspicion that it was impossible for any man,
+at such a time, to wean consideration from issues so personal and so
+insistent.</p>
+
+<p>"That's why I spoke to you about William Saint. If I go, Fancy, I
+must find a man to take my place, see? 'Taint likely as I'll find
+anybody who knows folk as I knows 'em. And if William Saint sneaks in,
+maybe I won't find what I leave when I come back."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke very earnestly, gripping her hand. Her sympathy for him
+welled up, drowning all thoughts of self. Alfred had leapt to heights.
+She realised the extent of the sacrifice he might make. And she felt,
+instinctively, that the sacrifice would be made. A curious exaltation
+possessed her. Alfred had thrilled her soul. If he went, true
+patriotism, as Mr. Hamlin interpreted the elusive word, would be behind
+his going. And he looked so stolid, dear man, so unconscious of the
+spiritual forces stirring within him.</p>
+
+<p>She said impulsively:</p>
+
+<p>"You mean to go, Alfie?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you approve."</p>
+
+<p>She drew a deeper breath. Then the decision rested with her. If she
+burst into tears, if she flung herself into his arms, if she whispered
+to him, blushingly, the arguments which come pat to any woman's tongue,
+when her happiness is at stake, he would stay. The burden laid upon her
+seemed greater than she could bear. Her withers were wrung. In her
+perplexity she lurched here and there, staggeringly. She caught at
+straws.</p>
+
+<p>"And if your mother disapproves?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! Maybe she will."</p>
+
+<p>"But, if she does&mdash;? Answer me, Alfie. I be hanging on your
+words."</p>
+
+<p>He said heavily:</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't one for argument. I only know this, dear, if I go, others
+will go, too. And the men are wanted, so Captain Lionel says. And if he
+says so, 'tis so. I feel as I ought to go, if you approve. When it comes
+to Mother, I'm weak-kneed. If I leave her out, Fancy, 'tis because I
+know what's tearing her, the thought of the graves in churchyard.
+'Tain't in Mother as 'tis in you, to stand hand in hand with me, and
+forget her dear self."</p>
+
+<p>Desperately, she clutched at another straw.</p>
+
+<p>"You may be right, Alfie, about Mr. Saint&mdash;I don't like him. I
+feel, someway, that he will do as you say, sneak in behind your back,
+and rob you of what you have worked so hard for. Could you stand
+that?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Twould be a rare twister, Fancy. But the men are wanted."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke with no fire, no enthusiasm. The men were wanted. That,
+apparently, had become an obsession. Dared she temporise any further?
+Was this the opportunity, never to be presented again, of which Mr.
+Hamlin had spoken?</p>
+
+<p>"If you feel like that, Alfie, you must go. I&mdash;I couldn't lift a
+finger to hold you back. I am proud," her voice faltered, "to belong to
+such a man."</p>
+
+<p>The victory was won.</p>
+
+<p>Reaction followed quickly. They clung to each other. Fancy cried,
+knowing that tears would lighten her heart. Alfred kissed them away. He
+set himself, resolutely, the task of cheering her up. The war might be
+over before he was ready to serve in France. William Saint had his own
+business. One that exacted constant attention. No doubt a trusty fellow
+could be found to drive the 'bus.</p>
+
+<p>At tea, no trace of the storm could be discerned on their smiling
+faces.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">But Mrs. Yellam knew.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch11"></a>CHAPTER XI</h3>
+
+<h4>THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Alfred Yellam enlisted. But only seven out of the eight
+other young men enlisted with him. To the amazement of
+Nether-Applewhite, Adam Mucklow, a married man, took the place of the
+shirker. And this was not under pressure from Uncle, although he tried
+(and failed) to "touch" old Captain Davenant for another half-sovereign.
+Possibly the sight of the effulgent George&mdash;a younger brother not
+held in the highest esteem by Adam&mdash;had its effect; possibly, also,
+Adam had been swept off his large feet by Lionel Pomfret; possibly,
+again, Hamlin's good seed may have sprouted in somewhat thin soil.
+Motives must not be analysed too closely.</p>
+
+<p>Susan Yellam and Jane Mucklow said nothing. Susan may have realised
+that protest would be wasted; Jane, probably, was just as shrewd. Each
+woman cherished a bitter grievance, hiding it grimly from inquisitive
+eyes. Each read the heart of the other, and still remained silent. Each,
+however, was proud to be the mother of a valiant son. Mrs. Yellam never
+knew that a tremendous decision had been left to Fancy. She took for
+granted that Fancy felt as she did, and the pale, anxious face of the
+girl confirmed this conviction. Alfred, you may be sure, made Fancy
+promise to keep silence concerning what passed in the fox-covert. To her
+dying day let the mother believe that the son had acted "on his own,"
+without consulting another. Fancy sighed and consented. What did it
+matter? What did anything matter now that Alfred was going? During these
+last few days, the spiritual part of her seemed dead. Triumph appeared
+to have killed it! But her will prevailed over the weakness of the
+flesh. Alfred must see no more tears. Her smile was the most pathetic
+memory which he took with him from Nether-Applewhite.</p>
+
+<p>Before "joining-up," he gave two presents to the women he loved. To
+his mother he brought a wire-haired fox-terrier, pure white save for one
+round black spot between the ears and an oval black spot upon the loins.
+The dog was nine months old and clean thoroughbred, the son of a famous
+prize-winner. Alfred paid five pounds for him. Mrs. Yellam was
+profoundly moved; and the dog seemed to acclaim her as mistress at
+sight, jumping into her ample lap and licking her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we call him, Mother?" asked Alfred.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam studied the dog's lineaments. His eyes sparkled as
+shrewdly as her own.</p>
+
+<p>"He looks wonnerful wise," she said. "Wise as Solomon, he be."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we'll call him&mdash;Solomon."</p>
+
+<p>And it was so. Solomon&mdash;soon abbreviated into "Sol"&mdash;wagged
+his short tail approvingly.</p>
+
+<p>To Fancy Alfred presented a bicycle, and with it these words:</p>
+
+<p>"Vicarage is nigh three-quarters of a mile from Mother's cottage. I
+want you to see Mother whenever 'tis possible. I know her. She'll keep
+herself to herself, thinking her own thoughts, and they'll be hard
+thoughts, Fancy. You'll help to soften 'em, dear, won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I will."</p>
+
+<p>"Parson'll let you off, afternoons, for an hour, maybe; and the
+bike'll make all the difference. I see you nipping down in no time."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall love that, if Mr. Hamlin can spare me."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred laughed gaily.</p>
+
+<p>"I've spoken a word to him. And a kinder gentleman, in spite of his
+coldish face, I never met. He shook hands with me, and told me you
+should have a whiff of fresh air."</p>
+
+<p>And thus it was cosily arranged.</p>
+
+<p>To find a responsible, capable fellow to take his place as village
+carrier, and to drive the precious 'bus, was not so easy of achievement.
+But this, too, was managed through Mr. Hamlin. Alfred said uneasily:</p>
+
+<p>"I ask you, sir, to keep an eye on William Saint."</p>
+
+<p>"William Saint?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's crafty as any fox, sir, and a rare pusher. Mother fears that he
+may push himself into my good business."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin promised to bear this possibility in mind. Then Alfred, with
+groanings and travailings, delivered himself of the last burden on his
+mind:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sore troubled about Mother."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin held his tongue.</p>
+
+<p>"She's taking this hard, but not a word does she say, not one. She
+thinks, I know, that God Almighty has forsaken her, pore soul. Such a
+mort o' trouble as she's had, too. My going seems the last straw.
+'Twouldn't be so bad, if all the young men had gone first."</p>
+
+<p>"I can imagine what she feels, Alfred. This is a time of sore trial
+to all of us, and, perhaps, the strongest suffer most. I will do what I
+can to comfort her, but I can do so little. In all my life I have never
+felt before how cheap mere words are. Now, go your way with a glad
+heart. Put these anxieties from you, hopefully, and so you will do your
+duty the better. God bless you!"</p>
+
+<p>Alfred duly departed.</p>
+
+<p>Before Lionel returned to France, the Squire's ardent desire was
+granted. He became the happy grandfather of a stout boy, with his sire's
+blue eyes and clear skin&mdash;a ten-pounder!</p>
+
+<p>To celebrate this glorious event, the Squire built a shrine and
+dedicated it to the men of Nether-Applewhite who had answered the call
+to arms. It took the form of a fountain, with a granite trough for
+watering horses. Inside the fountain might be found a great slab of
+white marble with the names of the young fellows, in order, inscribed
+upon it in dull gold lettering, a very notable monument, as Uncle
+observed. It stood below the Church, opposite to the <i>Pomfret
+Arms</i>, in an open space where roads branched. Folk, from far and
+near, came to look at it.</p>
+
+<p>From the recruiting point of view, the fountain, as was generally
+admitted, furnished inspiration together with pure water to thirsty
+souls.</p>
+
+<p>When Lionel went back to France, a drab pall of apathy settled again
+upon the village. Mrs. Yellam spent every morning at Pomfret Court,
+returning to her cottage after the mid-day meal, which she helped to
+serve. Fancy would dash down to see her after five o'clock tea. Within
+six weeks Alfred appeared in khaki, with forty-eight hours' leave. He
+had joined an infantry regiment, somewhat to his regret, for he had a
+leg for a kilt, and remembered the resplendent appearance of "No Account
+Harry."</p>
+
+<p>"The Highlanders were in my mind, Mother. I'd a notion to enlist with
+them, but 'twas not to be."</p>
+
+<p>Susan Yellam said reflectively:</p>
+
+<p>"I prefer the Grannydeer Guards, to they Seafarin' Highlanders,
+Alfie."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! I might have gone for a horse-soldier, but when they told me
+'twould be my pleasure and duty to keep my horse cleaner than myself, I
+thought twice about it. 'Tis a hard life, dear, but I feel wonderful
+strong, with a tremendous stomach for my victuals."</p>
+
+<p>His appearance delighted Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>They were photographed together, arm in crook, travelling to
+Salisbury as passengers in Alfred's 'bus, which provoked many jests. But
+when Alfred went back to duty the corners in two hearts seemed more
+empty than before.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Tommies had taken the place of Belgians at Pomfret Court,
+much to the satisfaction of the maids in the village. They were an
+amazing set of fellows, so the Squire decided, guests after his own
+heart, always ready to crack a joke, grousing about trifles, simply
+splendid when they discoursed about the war. Some of them, unlike the
+Belgians, were impatient to return to the front. They talked pleasantly
+of the enemy whom they spoke of generically as "Fritz." The
+kindest-hearted of the first lot, a little Cockney, bubbling over with
+fun and high spirits, ever ready to help the "Sisters" in any job that
+came to the one hand that had not been left in France, gloried in the
+distinction of having been in a bayonet charge. The Squire, much
+interested, asked for details, gleefully forthcoming.</p>
+
+<p>"Yer see red, sir. I got after a fat 'Un. Lord lumme! 'E run a fair
+treat, 'e did. But I stuck him to rights. I lost my 'ead though.
+Couldn't see nothink nor nobody except 'im. In my silly 'aste I missed
+some fine opportoonities."</p>
+
+<p>"Opportunities?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wounded 'Uns, sir, lyin' there to me 'and. I might 'ave 'ad
+'arf-a-dozen notches on my old rifle, instead of one!"</p>
+
+<p>"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Sir Geoffrey.</p>
+
+<p>"Yer see, sir, we knows what they done to women and children."</p>
+
+<p>By this time. George Mucklow and the first to join were at the front,
+and every Sunday, during Morning Service, Mr. Hamlin would stand up,
+before the Litany, and read out the names on the Roll of Honour. The
+congregation, after Service, remained quietly in the church till the
+National Anthem had been sung.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam sat alone in her pew, rigidly upright.</p>
+
+<p>At home, alone in the evening, she talked to her dog. Solomon would
+sit in front of her, staring up into her massive face, with one ear
+half-cocked, very alert, very sympathetic.</p>
+
+<p>"You be a wondersome dog."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon's tail flickered.</p>
+
+<p>"You knows more'n they donkeys as walks on two legs."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon winked.</p>
+
+<p>"You knows what a hard old flint I be, same as I digs up in
+garden."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon laid a protesting paw upon her knee.</p>
+
+<p>"You knows that I be tried beyond my powers, that I be mazed and
+dazed beyond what tongue can tell."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon leaped into her lap, and attempted to lick her face.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, Solly; my kissing days be over."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon refused to believe this.</p>
+
+<p>"You knows, too, that my Alferd be going to the wars, and he won't
+come back. 'Twill kill that pore white-faced lil' maid. But 'twon't kill
+me, I be too tough, Sol. I be getting tougher. And I get no taste out o'
+life neither. I be so wicked that, times, I could lift my hand to kill
+they who stay behind, guzzling ale, grinning because they think
+theirselves so clever! I fair wonders that you can love so wicked an old
+'ooman as I be."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon, as a last reassuring protest, would curl up and fall asleep.
+Mrs. Yellam would sit on, staring into the fire, trying to adjust the
+workings of the Divine Mind with her own perplexed intelligence. Often
+kindly sleep would come to the rescue, and she would wake with a start
+to find the fire burnt out and the kitchen cold. But Solomon lay snug
+and warm against her.</p>
+
+<p>Many persons, besides Mrs. Yellam, were mazed and dazed during these
+Spring days. At Neuve Chapelle, our cavalry had their feet in stirrup
+ready to ride down the enemy, when a thick mist rolled up and balked
+them of their prey. Jupiter Pluvius seemed to be fighting against us.
+The appalling earthquake in Italy was joyously affirmed by Germans to be
+God's judgment upon an ally who had deserted them. Strikes in the
+industrial parts, Irish troubles going from bad to worse, seemed to
+indicate the chastening hand of Omnipotence.</p>
+
+<p>But we had accomplished a mighty miracle.</p>
+
+<p>Five hundred thousand men were in France, and not a life lost during
+the perilous operations connected with transport.</p>
+
+<p>And then came the crushing disaster of the <i>Lusitania</i>. A wave
+of horror and rage swept over the country. Till now, Lissauer's "Hymn of
+Hate" had aroused ridicule, not resentment, amongst English-speaking
+peoples. The Belgian atrocities, known in all their horror to very few,
+had been accepted as the handiwork of brutes driven mad by drink and
+blood-lust, not as the systematic, inspired doctrine of Frightfulness.
+But when all Germany rose up to justify the slaughter of helpless women
+and children, when streets were beflagged, medals struck, and the
+schools held holiday, the nation began, at last, to grasp the truth.
+Might meant to stick at nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Recruiting, in the rural districts, received a sharp stimulus.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy, lying awake at night, shed many tears, but none before Mrs.
+Yellam. The pair, so strangely different, got on well together, because,
+so Susan said, the girl was not a chatter-box. Often they would meet and
+part without exchanging more than a dozen words. Fancy would help with
+the work, the never-ending cleaning and sweeping, or take some sewing
+and sit by the kitchen fire in silence. These quiet ways endeared her
+more and more to Alfred's mother, and occasionally, very seldom, Fancy
+would be vouchsafed a glimpse of an indurated heart. She had noticed
+that Mrs. Yellam avoided any direct reference to the Deity, Whose name,
+before the war, had been so often on her lips, the personal God, Whose
+guiding finger, even in trivial, domestic affairs, could be so plainly
+seen. One day, on the eve of Alfred's departure for France, Fancy said
+nervously:</p>
+
+<p>"God will be with Alfred."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam said quickly:</p>
+
+<p>"He be wi' the Kayser, too, seemin'ly."</p>
+
+<p>Instantly she closed her lips, as if fearful that more might leak
+from them. Fancy remained discreetly silent. She comforted herself with
+this reflection: faith in works sustained this unhappy old woman. She
+laboured abundantly for others at Pomfret Court, and tended her garden
+diligently so that she might have fruit and flowers and vegetables to
+bestow upon poorer neighbours. In church, her responses were clear and
+regular, her deportment irreproachable, but she never discussed the
+sermon, once a favourite mental exercise, and Fancy came to the
+conclusion that she no longer listened to it, too much obsessed by her
+own perplexities.</p>
+
+<p>About this time Nether-Applewhite was electrified out of its apathy
+by an extraordinary event, something so unexpected that Hamlin himself,
+who had foreshadowed such a remote possibility in his sermon on
+Patriotism, began to wonder if he had been inspired.</p>
+
+<p>George Mucklow won the Victoria Cross!</p>
+
+<p>This heavy, stolid young man, who shut both eyes when his shins were
+imperilled by a cricket-ball, who was "afeard wi' maids," who had been
+driven to the colours before the toe of a thick boot, performed one of
+those deeds that thrill an Empire. Fortunately for him, the tremendous
+opportunity of which Hamlin had spoken came at a moment when Authority
+was looking on, and able to record what took place. George confessed
+afterwards that at the time he didn't know what he did, or how he did
+it. Out of some subconscious zone surged the irresistible impulse
+blindly obeyed. A shell fell in the trenches at a moment when the
+officer on duty was making his rounds. Not an "Archie" or a "Black
+Maria" but something smaller than a football. Dozens of men were close
+to it. George darted past the officer and hurled himself upon it.</p>
+
+<p><i>It didn't explode!</i></p>
+
+<p>Within a week, George's photograph was given pride of place in
+half-a-dozen newspapers. And then the supreme decoration was conferred.
+He returned home on leave; the King pinned to his tunic the bronze
+cross; Jane Mucklow and Uncle witnessed the ceremony; George came back
+to Nether-Applewhite with his parents, and was the hero of another
+function when Sir Geoffrey Pomfret presented him with a gold watch and
+chain, a tribute from the Squire of the parish, and a well-lined purse,
+the gift of the parishioners.</p>
+
+<p>The effect on Uncle may be imagined. For ever after he associated
+himself with George as owning an undivided half interest in the cross,
+and in describing the glorious deed he assumed the royal plural, and
+with it some of the attributes of a monarch.</p>
+
+<p>"Us was standing at attention," he would say, "as I be standing now,
+when the dam thing falls slam-bang in front of we. Neighbours, 'twas a
+moment as won't bear thinking on. Many souls all unfit for Kingdom Come.
+What does we do? We falls atop o' that there cannon-ball&mdash;'twas big
+enough to blow a thousand fellers to glory&mdash;and hugs it to our
+buzzums. 'Tain't a thing to brag about, but us was in the noospapers,
+and&mdash;and, well, you knows the end on't&mdash;Buckingham Pallis!
+And, believe me or not, neighbours, but this be sober truth. Me and King
+Garge was hobnobbing together for the space of one mortial minute, just
+so friendly and kind as true brothers. I nodded to 'un, as I nods to
+you, and, by Jo! he nods back to me."</p>
+
+<p>Jane Mucklow had believed that George would perish in his first
+action. He had come triumphantly through half-a-dozen. And, to-day, he
+wore the proudest decoration that England's King can bestow. At a bound,
+she became an impassioned optimist. She discerned clearly the hand of
+Providence. King George was beheld as the Lord's Anointed. Queen Mary
+towered higher than he as the sacrosanct Mother. Mrs. Mucklow had her
+tale to tell, and told it with Uncle's unction and satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>"Queen Mary looked at my Garge as if 'twas her own dear son. Yes, she
+did. And then she smiles sweetly at me. I tell 'ee this&mdash;Queeny
+Mary was just so proud o' my Garge as I be. A good, kind 'ooman! I
+allows that, now and again, I ha' raised my blasphemious voice against
+they crowned heads, believing in my every-day way that they wore golden
+crowns when we pore folks was a-wearing made-over bonnets. Such wicked
+thoughts be clean gone from me. I be fair aching to sing 'God save the
+Queen' next Sunday morning."</p>
+
+<p>A neighbour remarked timidly:</p>
+
+<p>"Lard bless 'ee, Jane Mucklow, we sings 'God save the King.'"</p>
+
+<p>Jane answered solemnly:</p>
+
+<p>"You sings what you please. I began my life singing 'God save the
+Queen.' And I means to sing it again next Sunday."</p>
+
+<p>But the glory that encompassed her nephew's thick head as with a halo
+flickered like a farthing dip in the mind of Susan Yellam. Her poor
+heart was lacerated by envy and jealousy. If George were indeed chosen
+by Providence to wear the Victoria Cross, what decoration would He award
+to her Alfred? The press had laid emphasis upon George being amongst the
+first to volunteer. If Queeny Mary knew the whole truth, would she have
+smiled sweetly at George's mother? Not she!</p>
+
+<p>She laid the matter before Solomon that same night, after the
+memorable function which took place at the Shrine.</p>
+
+<p>"Solly, my soul be in sore trouble."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon considered this attentively.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my dog, I be setting in the seat o' the scornful. I be weary o'
+my groanings. I ha' conceived sorrow and brought forth ungodliness."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon whined.</p>
+
+<p>"Why be this change come upon me, Solly? 'Tis written: Upon the
+ungodly He shall rain fire and brimstone, storm and tempest. But,
+to-day, seemingly, that be the lot o' the godly and the fatherless. To
+the ungodly be given Victoria Crosses."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon sat up and begged his mistress to be silent.</p>
+
+<p>She concluded sorrowfully:</p>
+
+<p>"I be cast down, and they that trouble me will rejoice at it."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon leapt into her lap, and thrust his nice cold nose against her
+cheek.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin visited her from time to time, but as friend, not priest.
+Wisely, he bided his time to speak, wondering when the right moment
+would come. She received him respectfully, answered his questions,
+enquired after Mr. Edward, who had just received his Sam Brown belt, and
+then relapsed into exasperating silence.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Mr. William Saint had not neglected his opportunities. The
+man chosen by Hamlin and Alfred to "carry on" during Alfred's absence
+was sober and honest, but a poor talker. Saint bought a motor-'bus in
+May, which he used at first to take passengers to and from the railway
+station, some four miles distant. At the same time, he made arrangements
+to entertain summer guests, renting a small house with a garden
+overlooking the Avon, which served as an annexe for middle<ins
+title="hyphenated in the original"> </ins>class trippers, elderly
+spinsters who drew in water-colours, officers' wives with children, and
+professional men seeking a little cheap fishing. Saint drove the 'bus
+himself, engaging a good-looking young woman to take his place in the
+bar. Now and again he made expeditions to Salisbury, filling his 'bus
+with strangers who wished to see the Cathedral. Before June was out, he
+started a bi-weekly trip. In July he began carrying parcels.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin, accordingly, said a word to the Squire. But what could be
+done? The Squire and he stuck faithfully to the regular carrier. Others
+consulted their own convenience. Mrs. Yellam told Fancy that Alfred's
+business was steadily diminishing in volume.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you told Alfred?" asked Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"No. And don't 'ee tell him, neither."</p>
+
+<p>"Not me. Anyways, so long as dear Alfred be safe and well, I shan't
+worry about money matters."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam said tartly:</p>
+
+<p>"Folks wi' no money to lose can allers sleep sound at nights." Then,
+realising that she had slapped an innocent cheek, she added in a
+pleasanter voice: "If Alferd keep safe and well, he'll downscramble this
+raskil so soon as he be homealong."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>"He will be homealong soon," she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"How do 'ee know? You ain't got a letter saying so?"</p>
+
+<p>"N-n-no."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam's voice became testy again.</p>
+
+<p>"Then how do 'ee know?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy hesitated, blushing. But Mrs. Yellam pressed her point.
+Finally, the girl made confession. When Alfred went to France, she had
+consulted the cards.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam exploded. What ridiculous notions young maids got, to be
+sure! Cards, indeed! Very scornfully, she informed Fancy of the
+existence of a so-called wise woman, half-gypsy, who lived in a
+tumble-down cottage at Ocknell.</p>
+
+<p>"You go and see that old grammer. 'Twill cost 'ee sixpence. For a
+shillin' she'll tell 'ee a fine fortin, marry 'ee to a young lord, and
+make 'ee the mother o' nine children. I ha' no patience wi' such
+tricks."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy said humbly:</p>
+
+<p>"Alfred thinks it foolishness, just as you do, but ..."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"The lady in Salisbury, as taught me, did say that I should marry a
+soldier. Alfred laughed at that, till&mdash;till he became one."</p>
+
+<p>"You bain't married to a soldier yet."</p>
+
+<p>"No. That's true."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy sighed. Mrs. Yellam went on with some knitting. Suddenly, she
+said sharply:</p>
+
+<p>"What did they cards say?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy smiled faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"They said that Alfred would come back&mdash;soon."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam knitted on. After a long pause, she pronounced a
+verdict.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">"I bain't one to talk about what I don't understand. If so
+be as Alfred comes back soon, and if he marries 'ee, I may own up that
+cards do tell truth sometimes."</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch12"></a>CHAPTER XII</h3>
+
+<h4>THE EMPTY PEW</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">After her Alfred went to the front, Mrs. Yellam's interest
+in the Tommies who had been "over the top" became more acute. She
+listened to everything said, regardless of a timely caution from Lionel
+Pomfret, who, before he rejoined his battalion, warned her that Mr.
+Atkins, with all his glorious qualities, was not too scrupulous a
+respecter of the truth. When the wounded men fell to talking amongst
+themselves, or before sympathetic females, the hypercritical might have
+noted a valiant determination on the part of each speaker to go "one
+better" than his predecessor. And the essential fact that these boys,
+most of them under twenty-five years of age, laughed at and chaffed each
+other when relating horrors merely piled Pelion upon Ossa in the mind of
+Mrs. Yellam. It seemed to her&mdash;and to how many more
+mothers?&mdash;that none could escape death or mutilation. One man was
+dumb from shell-shock. A "Black Maria" had buried him and ten others. He
+alone survived, unable to tell in speech what he had undergone. Mrs.
+Yellam paid this man particular attention, because her imagination was
+lively enough to realise what loss of speech would mean to herself. She
+told Jane Mucklow, with portentous shakings of the head, that the poor
+lad had lost his tongue for evermore. What else could be expected? Jane,
+now in happier mood, remarked <ins title="'sentenously' in the
+original">sententiously</ins> that miracles still happened. Mrs. Yellam
+smiled grimly, wondering whether Jane was thinking of what George had
+done and accounted that achievement a miracle. And Jane could afford to
+take a rosy view of life, inasmuch as Adam was still in England, and
+George, with a view to stimulating recruiting, had been given a snug
+billet at the dépôt of his regiment. All the credit due to George had,
+by this time, been assumed by Uncle. He not only took part, as has been
+said, in the heart-thrilling exploit, but assured everybody that the
+valour of his son had been begotten in him by a sire known far and wide
+to be without fear, the Bayard of the countryside! Jane accepted this
+hypothesis with creditable derision. She would say in reply to strangers
+avid for details: "Do 'ee talk to Garge's father. <i>He was there!</i>
+Garge be his father's son from stem to starn. My boy'd ha' behaved
+hisself very different. He'd ha' crawled down a rabbit-hole, he would,
+so be as one were handy."</p>
+
+<p>Some strangers, pleased with this whimsical exposition, pressed money
+into Jane's hand, which she accepted with a humble and grateful heart,
+adding even more slily: "Thank 'ee very kindly. Money be scarce wi' us,
+since my dear husband's son won the Victoria Cross, because the father
+o' such a notable hero has to drink his brave boy's health so many times
+a day."</p>
+
+<p>One memorable night, when most of the Tommies were asleep in the
+Saloon, the dumb man burst into excited speech, and talked for about two
+hours, to the delight of seventeen comrades. When Mrs. Yellam heard the
+wonderful news next morning, she was immensely comforted. That afternoon
+Fancy noticed a change in her, and was emboldened to strike iron when it
+happened to be hot.</p>
+
+<p>"Miracles do happen," she affirmed, with an odd expression upon her
+pale little face.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam passed no remark on this. In her opinion, formulated long
+before the war, miracles had been wrought long ago in the misty,
+prehistoric times of the apostles, and not since. Fancy continued
+nervously:</p>
+
+<p>"A miracle happened to me."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you say, child? A miracle happened to&mdash;<i>you</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy nodded. As a little girl, during her school-days, she had told
+her tale many times with the abominable conviction that it failed to
+convince, although it might excite astonishment and sympathy. When she
+grew older and more reserved she ceased to tell it, wincing from
+incredulity. She hated to tell it to this austere old woman, whose
+tongue could be so sharp, but impulse conquered apprehension.</p>
+
+<p>"I was four years old at the time. And I was playing in the street
+just opposite to our house with some other children. A great dog came
+rushing down on us, snapping right and left. Folks said afterwards he
+was mad, but I don't know. Someway he was killed, so Father told me,
+before that was made certain; killed and buried."</p>
+
+<p>"A mad dog! My!"</p>
+
+<p>"The other children ran away. I&mdash;I didn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Why ever not?"</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't. I stood still, all of a dreadful tremble. And he came
+bang at me."</p>
+
+<p>"What a fearsome tale! You pore lil' maid!"</p>
+
+<p>Up to this point of the narrative, Fancy had generally received just
+such sympathy, particularly when telling the story to mothers. She
+paused; her cheeks flushed; but her large eyes rested tranquilly upon
+the eyes of Susan Yellam.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, dear, go on!"</p>
+
+<p>"When the dog was quite close, I saw Mother."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"You saw your mother, who was dead!"</p>
+
+<p>"I never think of Mother as dead. Yes, I saw Mother standing between
+me and the dog. She never looked at me; she looked at the dog. And the
+dog saw her."</p>
+
+<p>"I never heard such a tale in all my life."</p>
+
+<p>"The dog saw her. He stopped of a sudden, turned, and went
+back&mdash;howling. And I howled, too. Mother turned as the dog turned,
+and give me one beautiful look. Then she went."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam grasped the arms of her chair, still staring into Fancy's
+artless face. But no outburst of incredulity escaped from her as Fancy
+had feared it would. Her logical mind grappled with the facts as
+presented. She said, after a long pause:</p>
+
+<p>"You thought you saw her."</p>
+
+<p>"No. I did see her&mdash;plain as plain."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Fancy dear, seeing as she died afore you was born, how did 'ee
+know 'twas she?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd seen Mother ever so often before."</p>
+
+<p>"When and how?"</p>
+
+<p>After some hesitation, Fancy narrated, with many details, her psychic
+experiences not only with her mother but with the four Evangelists. The
+girl's mordant anxiety that the astounding tale should be believed bit
+deep into the elder woman's heart. To Fancy's delight no incredulity was
+expressed. And Mrs. Yellam's face remained calm and kind. Solomon
+listened, also, with singular alertness and an eager intelligence which,
+to Fancy, indicated full belief. Indeed, Solomon seemed to be saying to
+himself: "Yes, yes, we know about that. We see things every day that
+would astonish all of you, if we were allowed to talk about them." And,
+in the middle of the story, the dog, that never showed any affection for
+others in the presence of his mistress, leapt suddenly into Fancy's lap
+and remained there. Long afterwards, Mrs. Yellam admitted that this mark
+of confidence upon Sol's part had impressed her. Inwardly she explained
+things quite to her satisfaction. She beheld Fancy as a four-year-old, a
+tiny mite, all eyes, physically weak, the victim of a perfervid
+imagination. Her own little girl, Lizzie, physically robust, would
+invent somewhat similar stories about tramps and sweeps quite as
+apocryphal as these tales of communings with Matthew and Mark. She
+remembered smacking Lizzie, and telling her that she was a little liar.
+No doubt, Fancy's father, rather a weakling, has encouraged the mite.
+Since Alfred's engagement, Mrs. Yellam had met Mr. Broomfield, and
+summed him up trenchantly as half a man.</p>
+
+<p>However, she kept such thoughts to herself, saying quietly:</p>
+
+<p>"You be a strange girl, Fancy, but you speaks what you believes to be
+sober truth, and I love 'ee."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy had to be satisfied with this.</p>
+
+<p>The first year of the war came to an end.</p>
+
+<p>So far, Nether-Applewhite had been fortunate. None of the young men
+had been killed; none had been seriously wounded. And it was generally
+held that "Fritz" couldn't stick another winter. Alfred became a
+sergeant. Mrs. Yellam appeared in her pew, next Sunday, wearing a new
+bonnet. But, coming out of church, she met William Saint, and cut him
+dead. She now thought of him, habitually, as a "Prooshian," out for
+world-dominion. When her Alfred returned from the wars, he would smash
+William Saint. The triumph of such a "sneak" must be short-lived. Like
+the Kayser, he had sold himself, body and soul, to Satan. Satan would
+claim his own in God A'mighty's good time. Renewed belief in a Personal
+Deity had crept back into a heart less indurated. But He remained there,
+so to speak, on sufferance. At any moment, He might be driven out, as
+before. Omnipotence, so Mrs. Yellam argued during many vigils, could not
+be reasonably regarded as such if Satan triumphed unduly. It is to be
+feared that a daily motor-'bus service to Salisbury and back under the
+auspices of William Saint would have been regarded as a Satanic triumph.
+But such a service, as yet, had not been inaugurated.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred wrote home once a week, alternately to Fancy and his mother.
+The life agreed with him. Obviously he accepted rough and smooth
+philosophically, regarding himself as a part of a vast machine that
+would "rampage" on with or without him. Although he was careful to keep
+from his mother and Fancy the horrors which they heard from the wounded
+soldiers, now and again some careless phrase would reveal,
+illuminatingly, everything that the good fellow wished to suppress.</p>
+
+<p>"You enjoy your food as never was," he wrote, "when you know that any
+square meal may be the last. A chum of mine got it yesterday. And he was
+smoking a Woodbine I gave him. The man next him, as told me all about
+it, finished the Woodbine. I couldn't help laughing."</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes," said Mrs. Yellam, deliberately, "I thinks they be all
+mad." She turned almost fiercely upon Fancy. "Why did he laugh, my boy
+as hated to kill a fly?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy hazarded a conjecture.</p>
+
+<p>"Men are not so very, very different from us women. I often laugh to
+save myself crying."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam admitted that there might be something in this.</p>
+
+<p>The Squire was busy with his bailiff, fattening bullocks, and,
+generally speaking, trying to increase his flocks and herds. In this
+task, he found an enthusiastic partner in Fishpingle, who possessed two
+obsessing interests: love of the land and love of the Pomfrets. Nobody,
+except the Squire and Lady Pomfret knew that this quiet, handsome old
+man, so distinguished in appearance, and so choice in his use of words,
+might have been lord of the manor, had he marched into life along the
+broad highway which leads from the altar. Fate ordained otherwise.
+Fishpingle had been constrained to stroll placidly along a by-path. He
+hoped that he would so walk till the end.</p>
+
+<p>His point of view was characteristic. Of the more complex designs of
+Providence, which such men as Hamlin were seeking to elucidate,
+Fishpingle took no cognisance. He admitted gravely that they lay beyond
+his vision. But he was quite certain that the land, the backbone of
+England, must and would receive the attention which, before the war, had
+been so unwisely withheld. He had always wanted to see his country
+independent of necessary supplies&mdash;wheat, cattle, sheep and
+hogs&mdash;imported from other countries. Upon that peg he had hung his
+philosophy. And now, towards the close of his days, he believed that
+what he had prayed for might come to pass. To that end he was prepared
+to consecrate such energies as were left to him. Incidentally, his
+enthusiasm served to wean Sir Geoffrey's mind from acrimonious criticism
+of politicians. To provide in the present means that might fill the
+inexorable demand of the future absorbed the thoughts of Squire and
+Bailiff.</p>
+
+<p>Towards the middle of September, two Nether-Applewhite men were
+killed in action. A week later, Lionel Pomfret was reported "severely
+wounded." Sir Geoffrey crossed over to France. Lady Pomfret remained at
+the Court in command of the hospital. She moved amongst the men with the
+same gracious smile upon her lips; courage and faith&mdash;those great
+twin brethren&mdash;sustained her; but the news was very bad, so serious
+that Mrs. Yellam hardened once more her heart. Lionel had been shot
+through the back, and lay, half-paralysed and in constant pain, in a
+receiving hospital. Upon the Sunday after these details reached
+Nether-Applewhite, Susan Yellam sat huddled up in her pew, and almost
+mumbled the responses. Alone with Fancy, her sorrow broke into
+words:</p>
+
+<p>"I be thinking o' keeping away from church next Sunday."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>The dear word escaped from Fancy's lips unconsciously. She had never
+used it before, except in her thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>"What be you callin' me?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy knelt beside her, stroking her rough hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I called you 'Mother.' Do you mind?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; but I bain't worthy to be your mother. If Master Lionel be
+taken, Alferd'll go, too. I can't bring myself to look at my lady. I
+can't look Pa'son square i' the face, neither. I reads the Bible, Fancy,
+and the holy words do seem to mock me. I ain't been near those two pore
+souls as ha' lost their boys. For why? I ain't got no comfort for
+'em."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy said desperately:</p>
+
+<p>"If you keep away from church, others will pass remarks."</p>
+
+<p>"As if I keered about that!"</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't you care if I stayed away, just because you did?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam considered this. Her face relaxed.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe. Anyways, I'll go next Sunday; But, child, it be sinful to sit
+in God's House wi' such a soul as mine."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy said in a low voice:</p>
+
+<p>"Your <i>soul</i> is right. You mind what Mr. Hamlin said about that?
+George Mucklow won his Cross because our souls are always right."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam shook her head. Then an idea came to her. A faint smile
+flickered about her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Souls may take a notion to leave us for a spell. My soul seems to
+have flown out o' winder, as it did when Lizzie died."</p>
+
+<p>"But it came back."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; that be true; it came back. Forgi' me, child, for shovin' my
+wickedness on your lil' shoulders."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Mother, you must talk to somebody."</p>
+
+<p>"When I be alone, evenings, I talks to Solly."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I never!"</p>
+
+<p>"And he understands me, yas, he do. He be very human, and a gert
+sinner."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy laughed; and the pretty trickle of sound may have melted a
+little ice. Susan Yellam laughed with her.</p>
+
+<p>"Solly&mdash;a sinner?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ay. He be a black murderer. He killed a cat day afore yesterday, and
+come back to me, all over scratches, and wi' a look as if&mdash;as if
+he'd been churched."</p>
+
+<p>"What a naughty hypocrite! I wish he hadn't killed the poor cat."</p>
+
+<p>"'Twas a vagabond cat, no better than she should be. I scolded Solly,
+and told 'un to kill William Saint's tabby, if so be as he couldn't help
+breaking the Sixth Commandment. I be no better than Solly."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy looked round.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is the naughty dog?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! He be courtin' some four-legged hussy. I knows 'un. Last
+night he come in after bed-time, so pleased as Punch. There be Original
+Sin in animals, as ther be in us. And feeling as I does, 'tis easy to
+forgive Solly his trespasses. Now you knows nearly everything."</p>
+
+<p>As the days succeeded each other, slightly better news came from
+France about Lionel Pomfret. At the end of the month the Squire brought
+him home. He lay upon his back; pain had become intermittent instead of
+constant. A great specialist said that he might, in time, recover the
+use of his lower limbs. Not a complaint leaked from his lips. Susan
+Yellam accepted this partial recovery from what had been deemed a lethal
+wound as a sign vouchsafed to her. Jealousy, however, was kindled by the
+professional nurse, who kept from her patient an old friend lavish with
+bull's-eyes in happier days and doubly anxious on that account to
+minister faithfully to him in the unhappy present.</p>
+
+<p>London was visited by Zeppelins. Nether-Applewhite would have
+accepted this fresh proof of Hun "frightfulness" with more Christian
+resignation, if one of the villagers had not happened to be present
+during the October raid which caused such destruction in the Strand.
+Uncle heard the tale at first hand, and repeated it everywhere. Martin
+Mowland, the bricklayer, had travelled to London to see his son, who was
+lying, desperately wounded, in the Charing Cross Hospital. According to
+Martin the Zeppelin had hovered just above his head, about tree-high.
+Then bombs had fallen with terrifying explosions. Uncle supplied
+supplementary detail to his own audience at the <i>Sir John
+Barleycorn</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"I says to Martin: 'What did 'ee do, old friend?' And he says to me:
+'Uncle,' he says, 'I thought my hour was come, but I legs it away so
+fast as I can to my lodgings....'"</p>
+
+<p>At this point Uncle, being an accomplished <i>raconteur</i>, would
+pause. Then he would add impressively:</p>
+
+<p>"Neighbours, I don't blame 'un, although speaking for myself, I knows
+that I should ha' stood still, onless, maybe, I'd seen some nice lil'
+<ins title="not hyphenated in the original">ale-house</ins> handy. Well,
+Martin, he legs it homealong so fast as if a hornet's nest were tied to
+his starn-sheets, and presently he pulls up like to catch his breath.
+And then he takes a squint upwards. Dang me, 'tis hard to believe some
+true stories. But Martin Mowland do take his oath to this. He'd run the
+most of a mile, giving tongue, too, I'll warrant. And when he looks up,
+as I be a Christian man, that there Zep had follered he, and was slam
+bang over his head."</p>
+
+<p>"Lard preserve us! Whatever did 'un do?"</p>
+
+<p>Uncle solemnly put the finishing touch to the narrative.</p>
+
+<p>"What did Martin do? He stands stone-still, and puts up his old
+umbrella."</p>
+
+<p>Many persons in the village believe to this day that Martin Mowland
+saved his life by putting up his ancient umbrella. Unquestionably
+Providence had stretched forth a Hand to preserve a worthy man who, as
+bricklayer, could ill be spared.</p>
+
+<p>During November, it will be remembered, Conscription was admitted to
+be inevitable, and shirkers were adjured to join up before they were
+"fetched." Many did so. Near Salisbury was established a vast camp of
+Canadians, jolly fellows who swung, route-marching, through
+Nether-Applewhite, winking gaily at the girls, and setting an inspiring
+example to the young men still clinging to the soil.</p>
+
+<p>Susan Yellam, spectacles upon nose, read all articles in her paper
+which dealt drastically with recalcitrants.</p>
+
+<p>Would they take William Saint?</p>
+
+<p>This question obsessed her. William was single and of military age.
+But his usefulness in the village could not be gainsaid, even by Captain
+Davenant. Of late, William had begun to cough, particularly in his
+sanded bar-parlour, or when he happened to be talking to Squire or
+Parson. His yellow gills confirmed the general opinion that he enjoyed
+poor health. Susan Yellam maintained that Willum was malingering, and
+deserved such obloquy as descended upon the empty head of Ezekiel
+Busketts, the brother of the sometime "odd man" at Pomfret Court.
+Ezekiel, presenting himself for examination before a medical board, had
+provided himself with an ancient truss, once the property of a deceased
+father. Unfortunately, he adjusted the truss so improperly that
+detection and ridicule fell upon him. Uncle, being distantly of kin to
+Ezekiel, covered his retreat with no harsher comment than this:</p>
+
+<p>"'Twas a very sad mishap."</p>
+
+<p>Susan, to return to William Saint, asked for a "sign," which, if
+unfavourable, might be taken to indicate how deeply she had incurred
+Divine displeasure. Some people, with greater advantages than Mrs.
+Yellam, believe devoutly in signs. Lionel Pomfret's slow recovery had
+been thankfully accepted by Susan as a sign that Satan was not having it
+all his own way in Nether-Applewhite. If William Saint was removed from
+the scene of his time-serving activities, Mrs. Yellam felt that a signal
+victory over the powers of Evil would have been achieved. Such a
+victory, in a true religious sense, would re-tighten the spiritual
+fibres that, before the war, had bound her so closely to Omnipotence.
+Nay, more; she dared to presume that if Willum went, her Alfred would
+return, and pick up the scattered parcels of his good business as of
+yore.</p>
+
+<p>She confided all this to Solomon, but not to Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle furthered her wishes without any "mumbudgetting" between
+brother and sister. He disliked Saint, because his ale was watered. But
+he liked to meet his cronies at the <i>Sir John Barleycorn</i>. Being a
+brave, candid fellow, with a half-interest in the V. C., he told Saint
+to his face what he thought of the ale.</p>
+
+<p>"I likes my ale, and I bain't ashamed on't. I see eye to eye wi' this
+yere Horatio Bottomley about they pumpuritans, which I make bold to say
+includes milkmen" (Saint sold milk) "so well as publicans. Me and
+Bottomley do think just alike about knaves, hypocrites, and they as
+grinds the face o' the pore. Much o' what I read in Johnny Bull might
+ha' been written by me. I comes back to my tankard o' ale."</p>
+
+<p>"You allers do, Uncle."</p>
+
+<p>"What I likes about my first tankard be this. If 'tis good ale, such
+as used to be set afore a man, I drinks it wi' a grateful heart,
+a-smackin' my lips over the tankard to foller. If 'tis wishwash, I
+nourishes most onChristian feelin's, and loses my thirst."</p>
+
+<p>William Saint would reply imperturbably:</p>
+
+<p>"For a patriotic man, you surprise me, Uncle. The ale is not what it
+was because good barley is needed for better purposes."</p>
+
+<p>"I knows nothing about that."</p>
+
+<p>"A man with your great knowledge of everything ought to know."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle marked the irony, and resented it. In argument, as he well
+knew, Saint was too much for him. He began to study the publican and his
+hollow cough. He noted his man&oelig;uvres: the tiny bit of land
+ploughed up, the buying of horses for remount agents, the sale of forage
+to the same interested parties, who might be trusted to speak up, when
+Conscription came, for an indispensable and indefatigable subject of the
+King. Uncle passed some not disagreeable moments speculating concerning
+the fouling of a well-lined nest.</p>
+
+<p>As the season of Peace and Goodwill approached, Lionel Pomfret was
+just able to hobble the length of the terrace with the assistance of a
+pair of crutches. His campaigning days were over. It was doubtful
+whether he would be seen again in the hunting-field. But high spirits
+remained inalienably his. He plunged with renewed ardour into schemes
+for the more intensive culture of a thin soil, and displayed remarkable
+aptitudes fortified by hard grinding at text-books. Hamlin spent many
+hours with him. In Lionel he seemed to see a type, the son of an ancient
+house, born with the silver spoon in his mouth, cradled in ease and
+luxury, popped on a pony to ride through life as soon as he was
+short-coated, sent to a great public-school, not to acquire learning,
+but manners and skill at games, pitchforked later into a famous
+regiment, with a handsome allowance, not to study the stern arts of war,
+but to hold his own at polo and pig-sticking.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin had deplored such upbringing. But the results confounded him,
+forcing him once again to thrust carefully-considered judgments into the
+melting-pot. The fact bristled in front of him that Lionel, and
+thousands like him, had "made good" against all odds, vindicating an
+education which consistently disdained efficiency except at games and
+sport. What a gulf yawned between Prussian and English officers! The
+Prussians had scrapped everything to attain efficiency. They had got it.
+And what an atrocious use had been made of it! But their efficiency had
+constrained young men like Lionel to an efficiency greater because the
+inspiration of a fine cause lay behind it. That must be the keystone of
+any arch&mdash;inspiration. Whether for good or evil, it fired men to
+supreme endeavour.</p>
+
+<p>Out of Hamlin's four sons, three were now in the Army. Teddy,
+however, was the only one in France. The eldest son, in Orders, was
+still at Cambridge; the second, after passing through the O. T. C., had
+sailed for Salonika; the third had enlisted as a Bombardier.</p>
+
+<p>Christmas, therefore, seemed likely to be happy, if not merry.</p>
+
+<p>Upon Christmas Eve, Mrs. Yellam heard, officially, that Alfred was
+wounded.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">Upon Christmas Day, at Morning Service, her pew was
+empty.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch13"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h3>
+
+<h4>FANCY CONSULTS THE CARDS</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">On the following Sunday, Mrs. Yellam's pew was empty
+again, conspicuously so, in the eyes of Hamlin. After luncheon he said
+to Fancy:</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mrs. Yellam ill?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin guessed what had happened.</p>
+
+<p>"No news is good news, Fancy."</p>
+
+<p>"That's what the men say, sir. It ain't a mort of comfort to us
+women."</p>
+
+<p>She looked very white, with dark, heavy lines beneath her eyes.
+Hamlin said a few encouraging words to which she listened attentively,
+nodding her head. Hamlin felt reassured. Fancy was unhappy, but she
+didn't despair. Before she left the study, she said slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"I believe as Alfred will come back."</p>
+
+<p>To the solicitude and sympathy of neighbours Mrs. Yellam exhibited a
+frigid indifference.</p>
+
+<p>"I be just as well as never was," she remarked, when they enquired
+after her own health. "Time enough for such as me to fall sick if my
+Alferd don't come back."</p>
+
+<p>No further news had reached her. To Jane Mucklow, now the village
+optimist, with George at home on leave for Christmas, Mrs. Yellam spoke
+with some bitterness. Jane meant well; her sympathy was sincere, but how
+could she, so high in Divine favour, understand? Nothing could shake
+Susan's conviction that Alfred lay somewhere in France, mortally
+wounded, whilst William Saint, the hypocrite and rascal, knelt among the
+Communicants. To kneel with him, feeling as she did, would be, in her
+opinion, an act of sacrilege. She reflected miserably that, since
+confirmation, she had never missed a Christmas Celebration of the
+Eucharist.</p>
+
+<p>On the Monday, Hamlin came to visit her as parish priest. He had
+carefully considered what he should say. The faith that burned within
+this strong man had been a plant of slow growth, watered by suffering,
+pruned by constant self-analysis, and yet, in its essence, the faith of
+a child, a faith independent of dogma, soaring high above
+technicalities, resting securely upon a belief in ultimate good. He
+could not disguise from himself that the Churches&mdash;all of
+them&mdash;had crippled expectation. There had been no renascence, no
+uplifting movement, no real enthusiasm. Political considerations and
+expediencies kept the Vatican silent when a voice, thundering as from
+Sinai, might have awakened millions to a realisation of the issues at
+stake. The Church of England and the Nonconformists remained almost as
+stagnant, content, for the most part, with the well-oiled grooves,
+waiting for and watching Temporal Power, unable or unwilling to take the
+lead, to speak definitely, to act decisively. With rare exceptions, the
+gospel of Love had not been authoritatively used to vanquish the gospel
+of Hate. Hamlin, need it be said? was no sentimentalist. He believed
+with Woodrow Wilson that Prussian militarism must be wiped out. He did
+not believe with Wilson that the German nation, as a whole, could be
+exonerated from blame. Available evidence justified a different
+conclusion. Lust for world-dominion, regardless of consequence, animated
+and fortified the Central Powers because popular opinion lay behind
+them, unanimous save for a negligible minority. Non-resistance to a
+catastrophic policy of aggression, so potent, so meticulously organised
+threatened not only Christianity but civilisation. To turn the cheek to
+these smiting Huns was an unthinkable proposition to Hamlin. Nor could
+he find in the New Testament any injunction of the Master which could be
+twisted into a golden rule to be applied to States and nationalities.
+Christ dealt with individuals, preaching and practising the power of
+love as between man and man, not as between man and mankind. No text
+that Hamlin could find would justify forbearance towards a nation
+determined to inflict "Shrecklichkeit" upon the human race. On this
+point his mind was perfectly clear.</p>
+
+<p>It was not yet, however, so clear upon issues still to be determined,
+such as "After the War" problems. He could not measure the stride about
+to be taken, provided militarism was crushed. He wondered constantly,
+with ever-increasing apprehension, whether love would triumph in the
+end, as he prayed that it might, creating a new world concerned with the
+happiness of the many, a world purged of the old insensate vanities and
+acrimonies.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam received him, as usual, a shade more formally, perhaps,
+with a slight tightening of her lips. Hamlin began as the personal
+friend of long standing, assuring the mother that her son, in all
+probability, was not severely wounded, that good news might be expected
+shortly, that very soon Alfred might be with her, out of the danger zone
+for a season, and able to give attention to his business. But he
+perceived that he was wasting words and time. She listened respectfully,
+saying nothing. He guessed what ebullitions of feeling were suppressed.
+He had been tormented by her anxieties, by her doubts. The loss of his
+wife had been irreparable. And when his daughter left him alone in the
+Vicarage, with nothing to engross him but his work, an odd distaste of
+life had assailed him, a slackness which he fought tooth and nail. Till
+then he had hardly known fatigue, as it is known to all women, that dull
+apathy more mental than physical which questions means and ends,
+exaggerating the difficulties of the former and minimising the latter,
+an apathy continually whispering the sad words: <i>cui bono</i>? He knew
+how hard Mrs. Yellam had worked for her husband, her children, and in
+particular for Alfred. During the last ten years all ambition, all
+energies had been concentrated upon him alone. She had made
+unconsciously, a God of him.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin rose up to deliver his message. Mrs. Yellam rose with him.</p>
+
+<p>"I missed you in church yesterday, and on Christmas Day."</p>
+
+<p>"One old 'ooman can't be missed, sir."</p>
+
+<p>His eyes not his voice softened.</p>
+
+<p>"You are mistaken, Mrs. Yellam. A woman of your character in this
+parish is missed&mdash;more than you think, perhaps."</p>
+
+<p>"If Alferd comes back, you'll see me in my pew again."</p>
+
+<p>"You have made that rash bargain with your God?"</p>
+
+<p>She said defiantly:</p>
+
+<p>"How do I know as He is my God? The Kayser claims Him."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin gazed keenly at her.</p>
+
+<p>"If&mdash;if I left the matter there, Mrs. Yellam, in the firm hope
+and belief that God's way, inscrutable as they may appear to us when all
+our energies are at a low ebb, will in His time be made manifest, may I
+not ask you, as your parish priest, to consider the example to others,
+the many, possibly, who are wavering in faith as you are?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy Broomfield bid me think of that."</p>
+
+<p>"Did she? Poor girl, she is distracted with anxiety, like you. But
+her faith sustains her. Have you thought of what Fancy told you?"</p>
+
+<p>She answered him slowly, weighing her words:</p>
+
+<p>"My faith be gone, sir. It may come back wi' Alferd. And feeling so
+bitter as I do about William Saint, who be stealing my boy's business,
+who be letting others fight for him, and making a fortin for hisself,
+can I kneel at God's Table?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"What be I to do? Go to church, a whited sepulchre, and pretend that
+I be a Christian 'ooman? Do 'ee ask me to do that for sake of
+others?"</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin remained silent. She continued, more calmly:</p>
+
+<p>"I can't bring myself to go church along, although I'd be pleased to
+oblige you, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"It is no question of obliging me, Mrs. Yellam. Aren't you adding to
+your heavy burden instead of sharing it with One Who laid it upon you
+and Who alone can lighten it?"</p>
+
+<p>Grievously she shook her head. Hamlin took his leave. As he walked
+away, he muttered to himself: "Civil War&mdash;devastating Civil War
+raging in that poor old heart."</p>
+
+<p>He returned to the Vicarage with his mind dwelling upon the eternal
+conflict, a conflict accentuated by the world-war, because its issues
+seemed to enrich or impoverish everybody. By it, without a doubt, Susan
+Yellam had been impoverished. He himself was conscious of enrichment.
+But&mdash;he had not lost a son. He had five children.</p>
+
+<p>After tea Fancy cycled down, as usual, to the Yellam cottage. Solomon
+received her boisterously. She made sure that good news awaited her. A
+glance at Mrs. Yellam's set face put to flight her hopes. No news had
+come. Mrs. Yellam greeted the girl perfunctorily, and then said
+sharply:</p>
+
+<p>"Have you brought 'em?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>She took from a small hand-bag a much-used pack of cards. Mrs. Yellam
+had cleared a space upon the kitchen-table.</p>
+
+<p>"Set 'em out," she commanded.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy sat down, and began to shuffle the pack. Hamlin would have
+smiled sorrowfully, had he seen Mrs. Yellam's intent face as the girl's
+slim fingers dealt out the cards. So it had come to this. Rejecting the
+faith of sixty years, this poor old woman asked for hope and happiness
+from a fortuitous arrangement of bits of painted pasteboard! Comedy upon
+the underlying tragedy. Hamlin knew, of course, that astrologers,
+mediums, crystal-gazers and the like were doing a roaring trade.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam, let it be noted, asked Fancy to bring the cards. Protest
+had quivered upon Fancy's lips and stayed there.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is well, Mother. Alfred will come back. This makes the third
+time; and, do you know, when I rode up Sol barked and wagged his
+tail."</p>
+
+<p>"Did he? The dog be full o' fun now."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy went down on her knees; Sol barked at her, and then began to
+race round the room, playing what Fancy called "mad dog." He ended by
+leaping, panting, into Mrs. Yellam's lap.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe he knows something, Fancy."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure he does. Would he carry on like that if&mdash;if Alfred was
+real bad?"</p>
+
+<p>Thus each woman, in her artless way, consoled the other.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the Tuesday, details reached Mrs. Yellam. Alfred had been shot
+in the arm; the bone was badly broken; his destination was Netley.</p>
+
+<p>Strings were pulled by Sir Geoffrey. Before the week was out Alfred
+arrived at Pomfret Court. He looked much the same, not quite so
+rubicund; he carried his left arm in a sling. Upon the following Sunday,
+Mrs. Yellam appeared in her pew, and the fervour of her responses
+excited some comment.</p>
+
+<p>She said to Fancy:</p>
+
+<p>"The cards told true. Now, the sooner you and Alferd becomes man and
+wife the better."</p>
+
+<p>The doctor, who visited Pomfret Court daily, raised no objections.
+Alfred's arm would keep him in Nether-Applewhite for many weeks, because
+small splinters, from time to time, would have to be extracted, a
+tedious process. Mrs. Yellam, when she heard this, said with twinkling
+eyes:</p>
+
+<p>"Alfred, dear, why didn't you get wounded in both arms?"</p>
+
+<p>To which Alfred replied slily:</p>
+
+<p>"I kept my right arm, Mother, to slip round Fancy's waist."</p>
+
+<p>He told many stories to which Fancy and Mrs. Yellam listened
+entranced, and he spoke of the enemy with respect and without rancour.
+Upon one occasion, as his battalion moved into the trenches, a German
+had shouted out in excellent English:</p>
+
+<p>"Be you the Wiltsheers?"</p>
+
+<p>A reply in the affirmative provoked a request for "pozzy" (jam). But
+a tall sergeant, who stood up to hurl a can of preserve into the German
+trench, was shot dead. This aroused tremendous wrath, as quickly allayed
+when the same voice shouted again, asking if the sergeant who threw the
+jam had been hurt. He was soon satisfied on that point, and,
+immediately, a hubbub arose in the enemy trench, and a shot was heard.
+Soon afterwards the Wiltshires learnt from the lips of the first speaker
+that the man who treacherously slew the sergeant had been "done in."</p>
+
+<p>"They ain't all bad," said Alfred.</p>
+
+<p>To Mrs. Yellam's amazement, her son merely laughed when she told him
+of Willum Saint's activities.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis life, Mother. Down river, if a trout's caught behind an old
+stump, another takes his pitch before night."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam, however, noted with satisfaction that although Alfred
+was incapacitated from driving his motor-'bus, the business, since his
+arrival in Nether-Applewhite, had leaped ahead again with a renewed
+impetus. William Saint looked sour.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy bought her modest trousseau, and, incidentally, put on several
+pounds in weight. The weather happened to be bitter, but she never felt
+cold when walking out with Alfred. He spoke with enthusiasm of his
+officers:</p>
+
+<p>"They're fine gentlemen, Fancy. And those in the ranks are finest of
+all." Then he told her a story about two men in a London regiment, both
+privates and chums. One was an East-ender; the father of the other owned
+a house in Park Lane. The Cockney asked his chum if he had ever visited
+Whitechapel. The other remembered that he had bought a bull-terrier from
+a fancier in the Mile End Road. He remembered, also, that he had been
+handsomely "done" over the deal. After a pause, the Cockney said with a
+grin: "I sold you that dawg, Algy. What a mug you was then!"</p>
+
+<p>But Fancy remarked one amazing change in her lover. He never spoke of
+the future. His enjoyment of the present was unmistakable. This
+abstention from a topic which formerly had engrossed him became more and
+more significant. The girl realised what Alfred had been through,
+although, unlike most of the wounded men at the Court, he recited no
+"horrors." Gradually, too, she perceived a change in his face: he had
+"fined down"; his eyes were more alert, with a curiously steadfast
+expression. She had never talked with him about religion. That was taken
+for granted, and might be summed up as a cut-and-dried sense of certain
+obligations such as church-going, honourable dealings with neighbours,
+loyalty to the Sovereign, and sobriety of conduct. He knew nothing about
+the empty pew.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother took my going awful hard. Did she talk to you about it?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy told him what had taken place. Alfred held his tongue till she
+had finished.</p>
+
+<p>"Thought she'd lost her soul, did she? Poor dear!"</p>
+
+<p>"William Saint doing so well and cutting into your business worried
+her dreadful. I think it worries her still that you takes it so
+easy."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred meditated upon this. When he answered her, he conveyed to her
+mind an extraordinary sense of detachment, as if he, the strong man, so
+enterprising as a carrier, so alert for "orders," had become suddenly an
+onlooker at the game of life. Perhaps surroundings lent themselves to
+this impression. They had climbed slowly to the high downs, and were
+standing near a noted landmark, a small tower known as the Pepper Box. A
+sharp frost had silvered the downs. The air was very still. Upon each
+side of them stretched the uplands, melting into distant woods. No
+animals were to be seen, not a sheep, not a bird. They seemed to stand
+alone in a beautiful, deserted world.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose," he said, "that 'tis like this. Before the war, I might
+have felt different towards William Saint. And after the war, Fancy, if
+I'm here, I shall try hard to get back my own again. But to-day I'm
+thinking of peace. Fed-up with war I am. I want to live quiet with you
+and Mother. I talked a lot of foolishness once about making big money.
+You didn't cotton much to the notion. Maybe you feared it would take me
+away from you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, maybe it would. Money drives some folks apart, and the want of
+it brings 'em together. And, out there, plotting and planning seems
+silly, because one may be&mdash;'next.'"</p>
+
+<p>She clutched his arm. He smiled at her, continuing slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"'Tain't so terrible a thought. Most of us fears pain more'n death. I
+see more frightened folks in Nether-Applewhite than in the dug outs.
+Queer thoughts have come to me, my maid, since we two parted."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell them to me, Alfie."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tisn't easy unless a man has the gift of words. Times, especially
+at night, when an attack is expected I've lain still as a dormouse,
+thinking that 'twas unreal, a dream like, and that soon I should wake up
+and find myself somewhere else."</p>
+
+<p>"I often feel just that way."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! Another queer notion is this: the best seem to go first,
+Fancy; some of the young officers. Why? I figure it out that death is a
+big prize to such. It does explain things a bit, don't it? They get
+their reward&mdash;-quick! And then I set to figuring who is best. God
+Almighty knows. One feller in my platoon, before I got my stripes, was a
+right-down scallywag, a gaol-bird."</p>
+
+<p>"My!"</p>
+
+<p>"'Twas his notion about death being a prize for the lucky ones. And
+he told me that he loved to think how bad he'd been, because he reckoned
+himself safe, sure to be one of the last to be called. Next week, he was
+blown to a pulp, except his face, and on that was the queerest smile I
+ever saw. I helped to carry in what was left."</p>
+
+<p>She clung closer to him. He said in his ordinary genial tones:</p>
+
+<p>"I feel myself again in Blighty, dear. But I want no unpleasantness
+with William Saint or any one else. I think, night and day, of you, soon
+to be my dear wife."</p>
+
+<p>Love-making rolled on smoothly, as before the war.</p>
+
+<p>But what Alfred had said remained in Fancy's mind. It explained much
+that had puzzled her ever since she was able to think: her father's
+ill-health and ill-fortune, her mother's premature death, and the big
+casualty-lists. If life was a dream&mdash;! If reality lay
+beyond&mdash;! Then all the mysteries, the inequalities, the apparent
+injustices, could be explained. Such an explanation is old as human
+thought. It can be found in the Vedas, in the Bible, in the writings of
+the Gnostics, in some of the pagan and modern philosophies. Fancy,
+however, was neither concerned nor interested in speculations veiled in
+words she could not understand. Alfred's queer notions were his and
+hers, rushlights shining in the darkness. But terror touched her heart,
+when she applied the obvious conclusion to herself. If the best were
+taken, why then Alfred would be numbered amongst them.</p>
+
+<p>As her wedding-day approached, this apprehension grew fainter and
+then disappeared for a time. She resolved to live in the present, not in
+the shadows of past or future. Such resolution has been a fairy
+godmother's gift to young women in Fancy's class of life. They turn
+their eyes gratefully to the sun whenever it shines upon them.</p>
+
+<p>She had never been so happy before.</p>
+
+<p>It was arranged that part of the honeymoon should be spent in London.
+After three days' sight-seeing, the pair would return to Mrs. Yellam's
+cottage. Alfred bestowed upon Fancy a black fur stole and muff, a
+wrist-watch, and a pair of silver-backed hair-brushes.</p>
+
+<p>She placed these oblations upon a chair near her bed, so that her
+eyes could gloat upon them the last thing at night and the first thing
+in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>Sergeant George Mucklow, V. C., promised to act as best man.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam was nearly as happy as Fancy. One fly settled in her
+ointment. Conscription had become the law of the land. But the local
+tribunal exempted William Saint. Uncle predicted that he would be called
+up later. Jane, of course, contradicted this on general principles. With
+Mrs. Yellam she believed that Satan would take good care of his own.</p>
+
+<p>The men at Pomfret Court gave a sing-song in Alfred's honour upon the
+afternoon before he left them. Fancy sat beside the bridegroom-elect
+amongst the quality. She liked one new song so much that she clapped her
+hands and called out "Encore" before anybody else. The chorus of that
+song is now known to every English-speaking soldier in the world.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+  <span class="i2">There's a long, long trail a-winding</span>
+  <span class="i2">Into the land of my dreams;</span>
+  <span class="i2">Where the nightingales are singing,</span>
+  <span class="i2">And a white moon beams.</span>
+  <span class="i2">There's a long, long night of waiting</span>
+  <span class="i2">Until my dreams all come true;</span>
+  <span class="i2">Till the day when I'll be going down</span>
+  <span class="i2">That long, long trail with you.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="p5">Her dreams had come true; the night of waiting was
+past.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch14"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h3>
+
+<h4>HYMENEAL</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">They were married from Mr. Broomfield's house in
+Salisbury, and, before returning to Nether-Applewhite, Mrs. Yellam
+reconsidered her opinion of Fancy's father. He was more than half a man.
+Call him three-quarters at least. The other quarter was woman. Fancy
+always affirmed that her sire had played mother to her. Mrs. Yellam,
+after some intimate conversation with Mr. Broomfield, believed this to
+be true. It seemed odd to think of a farrier&mdash;the brawny blacksmith
+of the village chestnut-tree&mdash;helping to undress dolls and smacking
+them when they misbehaved themselves. But Mr. Broomfield was not brawny.
+He had Fancy's pale face and large, luminous eyes. He talked about
+books, not storybooks, which Susan Yellam disdained as "rubbishy truck,"
+but solid, respectable treatises dealing with subjects far beyond
+Susan's ken, such as the better housing of the poor, communal kitchens,
+and a more equable wage for the working-man. About such talk hung a
+flavour of Radicalism, a whiff of Socialism. Mrs. Yellam gasped for
+breath when Mr. Broomfield "blasphemiously" labelled Christ as
+Socialist. As a set-off, the man actually believed in fairies! Mrs.
+Yellam had never met his like. But she admitted somewhat grudgingly his
+charm as a companion. He attended Divine Worship, regularly, observed
+the Sabbath, and spoke with enthusiasm of the cathedral. He could laugh
+at his own mild jokes. Through him, Mrs. Yellam came to a subtler
+understanding of her daughter-in-law. She accepted Fancy, so she
+informed Mr. Broomfield, as a daughter, saying trenchantly: "No
+'in-laws' for me." But she ceased to regard her as a child. Fancy's
+artless ways, she decided, were on the surface. Beneath might be found,
+by a diligent delver, a remarkable little woman, sensible, very
+affectionate, but queer, like her father. Mr. Broomfield, apparently,
+could enjoy a joke against himself. Susan, with a very limited sense of
+humour, was incapable of such a feat. Speaking of motors, Mr. Broomfield
+said whimsically:</p>
+
+<p>"What I've lost over 'em, Mrs. Yellam, seems to have been picked up
+by Alfred. So&mdash;no complaints! Good money remains in the
+family."</p>
+
+<p>To Susan this cheerful acceptance of bludgeonings indicated Christian
+resignation rather than humour. She told the farrier forthwith all about
+William Saint&mdash;the "Proosian." Mr. Broomfield listened
+sympathetically. He perceived that Mrs. Yellam was disappointed because
+Alfred had not "man-handled" a rascal and hypocrite, but he said with an
+odd chuckle:</p>
+
+<p>"That makes things harder for this Saint, don't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I begs your pardon, Mr. Broomfield&mdash;whatever does you
+mean?"</p>
+
+<p>She thought for the moment that he was as light in head as in body.
+Fancy's father went on chuckling:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, from what you tell me of Alfred, and seeing what a big, strong
+man he is, I expect that William Saint is worrying. Like as not he
+looked for a row and wanted to get it over. Now, I reckon, being the
+coward you say he is, that he lies awake wondering when he'll catch it.
+Once, when I was a boy, I had to wait for a good whipping from Saturday
+till Monday. I've forgotten the whipping, Mrs. Yellam, but I remember
+that miserable Sunday."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam was much impressed with this point of view, admitting
+cautiously that it opened new vistas. Disturbed nights must be William
+Saint's portion and punishment. Mr. Broomfield hammered home his
+nail:</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis the same way with sinners&mdash;and this Saint seems a crafty
+sinner&mdash;outwardly they look fat and prosperous, but inwardly I
+reckon they give uneasy thought to a Day o' Judgment when they won't be
+invited to stand amongst the sheep. I've neighbours in this town, Mrs.
+Yellam, who have done the dirty on me. I never think of them. It dirties
+my mind to do so. I like to think of my friends instead."</p>
+
+<p>"You be a true Christian man."</p>
+
+<p>Later, she told Uncle, who set, perhaps, an undue value on
+chest-measurements, that Mr. Broomfield was very much of a gentleman,
+and repeated what had been said about Saint. Uncle saw the funny side of
+it, and smacked his thigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Saint Willum&mdash;! I shall call 'un that in his own bar. 'Tis a
+rare jest. Saint Willum living amongst us sheep and knowing full well
+that he be a goat. He do act the goat, too, when the sheep be grazin'
+away from he. I could tell 'ee stories, Susan...."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't, Habakkuk! Mr. Broomfield be right. I means to think o' my
+friends, and I refuses to dirty my mind wi' listenin' to stories o'
+goats."</p>
+
+<p>Her responses in church became louder and more fervent. Having gained
+the shore, after many buffetings, she put from her disagreeable memories
+of billows past.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy and Alfred returned from London town full of high spirits and
+overbrimming with talk. Fancy looked prettier than ever hanging upon the
+right arm of her sergeant. His left arm still hung in a sling. The
+doctor, who examined it periodically, said solemnly:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm very sorry, Sergeant, but I can't pass you as fit for duty."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred grinned:</p>
+
+<p>"You do pull my pore arm about, sir, but don't pull my leg,
+please."</p>
+
+<p>The doctor laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"You may count on six weeks at home, perhaps more."</p>
+
+<p>The momentary pain of having small splinters of bone extracted was
+negligible compared with six weeks of married bliss.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy's happiness defies analysis. Her naïve ecstasies astounded Mrs.
+Yellam, to whom marriage had been rather a prosaic affair. She wondered
+occasionally if this had been her fault. Why had dull contentment set in
+so soon? As a young wife, she may have overbusied herself with domestic
+duties. Fancy practised wiles and guiles with Alfred. She planned quaint
+little surprises, played dexterously with an imagination which became as
+lively as her own. One evening, when Fancy was upstairs, Alfred took
+from his pocket some pieces of white paper, all that was left of three
+packets of food. Abroad on business, Alfred had lunched under a hedge by
+himself, far from home. Upon the paper were pencilings in Fancy's
+handwriting. Mrs. Yellam wiped her spectacles and put them on. She read
+three sentences:&mdash;"Meat sandwiches. Don't gobble 'em! Say grace and
+think of Fancy." Upon the next piece of paper this was
+scribbled:&mdash;"Bread and butter and cheese&mdash;and <i>kisses</i>."
+And then the third:&mdash;"Rich cake stolen from Mother by a loving
+thief. P. S. Another fat kiss has just started to grow. F. Y."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam returned the papers. Alfred folded them carefully, and
+placed them in the inner pocket of his tunic.</p>
+
+<p>"They go back with me to France," he said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"You be a lucky man, Alferd."</p>
+
+<p>He nodded and went upstairs. Mrs. Yellam heard a tinkle of laughter.
+She sat on, thinking; a frown wrinkled her broad forehead. She had never
+played the game of love as Fancy played it. It occurred to her that she
+had missed something all her life without knowing what it was. It might
+be wise to consult Solomon, who was gazing at her interrogatively, with
+his head on one side. She did so.</p>
+
+<p>"Be they a pair o' fools, Solly?"</p>
+
+<p>Solomon never budged. This might be taken to mean an answer in the
+negative.</p>
+
+<p>"There be wisdom in folly, my dog, and folly in wisdom. You knows
+that?"</p>
+
+<p>Solomon wagged his tail. Mrs. Yellam continued:</p>
+
+<p>"I be learning things, Solly, old as I be. I wish I'd ha' learned 'em
+earlier. I might ha' been a happier 'ooman. I might ha' made my man
+happier. Why do such knowledge come to us too late?"</p>
+
+<p>Solomon gazed at his mistress intently. From his expression Mrs.
+Yellam divined that all her questions could be answered exhaustively by
+any dog able to wag his tongue instead of his tail.</p>
+
+<p>The war went on.</p>
+
+<p>Conscription began to dislocate small trades and industries, but
+Nether-Applewhite hardly felt the pinch of this. A few of the young
+women disappeared, seeking higher wages in munition-works. One or two
+returned to the village wearing coney-seal coats, and peacocking into
+church with bold eyes challenging attention from wounded heroes. Mrs.
+Yellam was much exasperated. All strikes she regarded as sinful. Satan,
+and his dark legions, had been the first to rebel against Authority.
+Hence&mdash;Hell! She envisaged as Hell industrial England, with its
+blast-furnaces vomiting flames and smoke day and night, with its black
+hordes of angry strikers disgracefully overpaid in comparison with the
+pittance doled out to Sergeant Yellam. Coney-seal coats "dirtied" her
+mind. Many of them, no doubt, were the obvious wages of sin. She rebuked
+Alfred severely, when he proposed to buy one for Fancy. Alfred defended
+himself and the wearers of the coats.</p>
+
+<p>"It's one of the signs of the times, Mother. I thought you were an
+'Onward' one."</p>
+
+<p>"Lard help us! Not 'Onward and downward.'"</p>
+
+<p>"It's all the result of the war," affirmed Alfred. "Money's scarcer
+amongst the quality, but poor folks are richer. Why shouldn't our girls
+have a good time? They're working hard for the country."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam retorted viciously:</p>
+
+<p>"Being a man, wi' an eye for a pretty face, you sticks up for the
+girls. But what about they miners, a-smoking silling cigars and
+a-drinking champagne, when our boys are dying at one-and-tuppence a day?
+And some o' they strikers, so they tells me, 'd as lief live under
+Kayser Bill as under King Garge."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that their fault, Mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you say? Gracious! Be you telling me that such wickedness be
+<i>my</i> fault?"</p>
+
+<p>Alfred smiled pleasantly. He was not entitled to full credit for his
+answer; he had been talking upon the subject with Lionel Pomfret.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the fault of the quality, Mother."</p>
+
+<p>"What a tale!"</p>
+
+<p>Alfred proceeded to explain. Although his brains worked slowly, and
+despite the lack of an adequate vocabulary, he could be trusted to
+repeat faithfully anything that had made a deep impression. He pointed
+out to Mrs. Yellam, in language she could understand, that the weak in
+mind and body were ever at the mercy of the strong. The quality, before
+the war, had been strong. They had exercised their strength, speaking
+generally, at the expense of the weak, fortifying their own impregnable
+position. The masses, with rare exceptions, had submitted to imposed
+conditions. They struggled on in the gloom, groping here and there for
+illumination. Ill-educated, ill-fed, ill-clothed, they became gradually
+conscious that things might be better and could hardly be worse. It made
+precious little difference to them, poor Bezonians, under which king
+they lived or died. The real advantages of living under King George were
+patent to others, not to these unhappy prisoners in bondage to their
+taskmasters. Alfred informed his mother, in conclusion, that within the
+memory of living man children of tenderest years had been driven to work
+in deep coal-mines, half-starved and half-naked, and kept at work, under
+the lash, in rabbit-holes of passages, because such work by warping
+their poor backs enabled them to get coal out of places where the
+straight-backed could not go. Conditions had changed for the better
+since those days, but not much, not nearly enough.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam was visibly impressed.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred went on in his own quiet way:</p>
+
+<p>"I've talked with such fellers in the trenches, Mother. You be sure
+of this: they ain't going back to slavery."</p>
+
+<p>"Slavery, Alfred, in England!"</p>
+
+<p>"There are slaves in Ocknell, to-day, Mother. Some pore devils had to
+be 'fetched.' They didn't know enough to get out of their hog-wallows.
+'Tis rank slavery for a man to bring up wife and six little 'uns on
+fifteen bob a week."</p>
+
+<p>"Anyways," replied Mrs. Yellam, tartly, "I don't hold wi' fur coats
+on the backs o' hussies whose mothers can't afford decent underlinen.
+And that minds me o' the advertisements in my paper. I fair blush to
+look at 'un. Pictures o' garments that I hangs up to dry out o' sight in
+my back yard."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred laughed loudly.</p>
+
+<p>"It always seemed to me as if you women hid the things you were
+ashamed of. The pretty frillies flutter in the wind, where all can see
+'em, and envy 'em. Nether-Applewhite knew when Rose Mucklow took to
+nighties trimmed with real Val."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam sighed, admitting frankly that she couldn't keep in step
+with the times. Alfred, conscious, possibly, that some of his mother's
+shafts were aimed at him, said tentatively:</p>
+
+<p>"Are you miffed because I gave Fancy a fur muff and stole?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know as I bain't. A wise man, my son, puts money in bank,
+not on back."</p>
+
+<p>"I see you putting your savings into stockings. Blame the war,
+Mother, not me. I aimed to make Fancy happy, and to see her smile,
+whilst I'm here to see it. We're both hay-making in these March
+winds."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam surrendered.</p>
+
+<p>What Alfred said remained in her ample mind, to be considered
+carefully at leisure. She abhorred extravagance. But, in March, she
+might have bought a warm muff for herself, had she been told by her
+doctor that she would die before June. Insensibly she adopted part of
+Alfred's new philosophy. She set before bride and groom the best plain
+food procurable; she piled logs on the open hearth; she put the two
+coffin-stools into a cupboard.</p>
+
+<p>And she read her Bible diligently, believing devoutly that she was
+basking in heavenly sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>The six weeks raced by, but Alfred's arm mended less rapidly. He was
+given three weeks' more leave. His business had picked up wonderfully
+ever since he was able to bestow upon it personal attention. Perhaps
+William Saint withdrew tentacles, waiting for better opportunities later
+on. Alfred didn't drive his 'bus, but he whipped up old customers,
+chaffing them pleasantly, avoiding reproaches. All the women liked his
+manners, which were easy without being too free. Fancy felt jealous at
+times, and couldn't hide it: a tribute to love which Alfred accepted in
+the right spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't be unfaithful to you, if I tried," he whispered to her.
+"I love you so dearly that my heart warms to all females. I could kiss
+the ugliest just because you're my sweet wife."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Alfie, I couldn't bear that."</p>
+
+<p>He never left home without finding her on his return hovering about
+the wicket-gate, waving her hand as he appeared round the bend of the
+road, and hurrying to meet him with outstretched arms. Those spoke
+eloquently of the suffering which approaching separation must impose.
+Each refrained from mention of France.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred hoped that she would have something to console her, something
+intimately his and hers, when he went back to the front. From the first,
+husband and wife had discussed the possibility of children.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you afraid?" he asked, thinking of her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h. I'm not surprised to hear that."</p>
+
+<p>"I want to whisper something, Alfie."</p>
+
+<p>He inclined his head. She kissed his ear, murmuring:</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>am</i> afraid&mdash;afraid it mayn't come. That's the only fear
+I have."</p>
+
+<p>He was profoundly moved, sensible that his feelings were the more
+tender because, before the war, he would have accepted paternity and all
+it implied as an ordinary happening. Till he had suffered
+himself&mdash;his wound had caused him intense pain&mdash;he had never
+thought of what women endure every time a child is born into the
+world.</p>
+
+<p>"What a brave dear you are!"</p>
+
+<p>She whispered again:</p>
+
+<p>"Would you like a He or a She?"</p>
+
+<p>Alfred insisted that first choice lay with her.</p>
+
+<p>"I want a boy."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe I should love a lil' maid best."</p>
+
+<p>"Better than you love me, maybe?"</p>
+
+<p>Having answered this in his own way, Alfred said abruptly:</p>
+
+<p>"If 'tis a maid, you must call her Lizzie. 'Twill please Mother. I
+can see the child traipsin' after her."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy said doubtfully:</p>
+
+<p>"Lizzie ain't a pretty name, Alfie. I thought of Alfreda&mdash;Freda
+for short."</p>
+
+<p>"Been thinking of that already, have you? Let it be Lizzie, Fancy.
+Promise me, dear!"</p>
+
+<p>She promised, and then laughed gaily:</p>
+
+<p>"Ain't we counting our chicks before they're hatched?"</p>
+
+<p>"We might be worse employed."</p>
+
+<p>"And if one comes, Alfie, I know 'twill be a big baby boy."</p>
+
+<p>"You have it your own way. I allow it concerns you more'n me."</p>
+
+<p>April was nearly over before Alfred went back. He might have been
+transferred to his dépôt, following the example of the hero. Sir
+Geoffrey was quite willing to pull more strings, and hinted as much to
+Sergeant Yellam. Alfred refused the kind offer, pledging the Squire to
+secrecy. Something he couldn't define, some dominating, irresistible
+impulse drew him to his own men. He admitted to the Squire that he was
+sorely tempted.</p>
+
+<p>"I know my job, Sir Geoffrey. And I know how bad we are wanted."</p>
+
+<p>Upon the eve of departure Fancy told him that she hoped, she
+believed, she was almost sure that the wish of both their hearts would
+be granted. If he got Yuletide leave, he might be in time for a
+christening.</p>
+
+<p>Mother and wife travelled to Southampton to speed the Sergeant on his
+way. No tears were shed till his broad back was turned on them at the
+dock-gates. They were spared that heart-twisting spectacle, the slow
+warping from the wharf of a great transport, the strains of "The Girl he
+left behind Him," the long line of faces packed close above the
+bulwarks, the interminable wait till the ship became a blur upon the
+waters.</p>
+
+<p>In silence they returned by train to Salisbury, sitting side by side,
+gripping each other's hands. A drizzle of rain obscured the landscape.
+Fancy told herself that sunshine would have been hard to bear.
+Capricious Nature seemed to be mourning with her, dropping soft tears
+upon a past four months so enchanting that they seemed, to-day, unreal,
+a mirage, too beautiful to be seen again. But Spring laughs through her
+showers. Before Nether-Applewhite was reached, the sun shone below the
+clouds, setting in a blaze of crimson splendour. Solomon greeted the
+women joyously; in the water meadows the Squire's black-and-white
+Frisian-Holsteins were grazing quietly; now and again Fancy heard the
+bleat of a calf. The plaintive cry seemed to turn her from a girl into a
+woman. She realised that never again could she be the girl of yesterday.
+Alfred would kiss a matron when he returned.</p>
+
+<p>After supper, when things were washed up, and Mrs. Yellam had taken
+up her sewing, Fancy disappeared for a moment, returning with her pack
+of cards. Mrs. Yellam made no comment at first, but she fidgeted in her
+armchair. As Fancy shuffled the pack, she said quietly:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't, dear!"</p>
+
+<p>"I must, Mother. They told true before."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well."</p>
+
+<p>Resolutely she turned her eyes to her needle, not daring to look at
+Fancy's face. She found herself wondering whether Fancy would be tempted
+to cheat, to shuffle back some card of ill-omen. After an eternity of
+suspense, she heard Fancy's clear voice:</p>
+
+<p>"It's quite all right. He's coming back."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam laid down her sewing, and rose majestically. In a small
+cupboard, a special sanctuary to the right of the hearth, she kept some
+home-made cordials: mead, currant wine, and ginger-brandy. Upon very
+special occasions she would produce such strong waters, and drink one
+small glass, not more. Her feelings might be gauged by the cordial
+selected. Mead was well enough after village christenings and
+churchings; the currant wine was stronger tipple, and very heartening
+after a wedding. The ginger-brandy warmed bodies chilled by winter
+funerals.</p>
+
+<p>She took down the currant wine, and fetched two glasses. Having
+filled them to the brim, she gave one to Fancy and held up the
+other.</p>
+
+<p>"Alferd."</p>
+
+<p>They clinked glasses and drank, very solemnly. Mrs. Yellam replaced
+the bottle of wine and washed the glasses. Returning to her chair, she
+perceived that Fancy was re-shuffling the cards.</p>
+
+<p>"Leave well alone, child."</p>
+
+<p>"I want to try something else."</p>
+
+<p>"What, you queer creature?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm wondering whether IT will be a He or a She?"</p>
+
+<p>"What notions you has, to be sure!"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy laughed and dealt on. Mrs. Yellam sat down, looking into the
+smouldering embers, seeing, possibly, the shadowy forms of the children
+she had lost. The wooden cradle which had rocked them to sleep stood in
+its place to the left of the fireplace&mdash;full of logs. It would
+serve for Fancy's child, for her own grandchild. And upstairs, in an old
+chest of drawers, lay some little things, tiny shifts and frocks with
+lavender between them. Once, in a moment of dull despair, she had
+resolved to burn them. A kindlier thought had urged her to give them,
+away. She had put that thought from her frowningly. How deeply the gain
+of others magnifies and distorts our own loss! Happy instinct must have
+constrained her to keep these garments made by her own hands, although
+at the time she never recked that they might be worn, so long
+afterwards, by flesh of her flesh and bone of her bone.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother...."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! You've settled the affair, have 'ee?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. 'Tis a boy&mdash;another Alfred. Ain't you glad?"</p>
+
+<p>"I be ready to welcome any babe, boy or girl, as belongs to
+Alferd&mdash;and you."</p>
+
+<p class="p5">Solomon, dreaming blissfully of rats, woke up and wagged
+his tail.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch15"></a>CHAPTER XV</h3>
+
+<h4>LEANNESS OF SOUL</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Life meandered on in the village. Mrs. Yellam spent her
+mornings at Pomfret Court; Fancy took her place in the afternoon; they
+were together during the light-lengthening evenings. By this happy
+arrangement, two women, not of the same temperament, never saw too much
+of each other. They met at supper, glad to exchange the mild gossip of
+the day. And, always, after uneasy matutinal hours, Fancy felt a renewed
+zest in life, an appetite for work amongst the "boys," and a delightful
+consciousness that physical strength&mdash;heretofore lacking&mdash;was
+slowly coming to fortify a frail body against the still far-off ordeal.
+She learnt much from Mrs. Yellam, and said so with flattering
+reiteration. Mrs. Yellam may have learnt more from her, but she did not
+say so. That, perhaps, constituted the essential difference between
+them. Fancy's thoughts and ideas bubbled out of her mind, effervescent,
+like water from a chalybeate spring. Mrs. Yellam had suppressed her
+intimate thoughts since childhood. What she said, indeed, masked her
+real feelings, conveying to others an impression of shrewdness,
+cocksureness and unruffled calm. It would be grossly unfair to speak of
+this as a pose. Since girlhood, she had been shrewd, sure of herself,
+and calm. Now, when she was past sixty, these comfortable and admirable
+attributes deserted her. She judged herself quite as severely as she
+judged her neighbours. She knew that, inwardly, she was questioning her
+wisdom, her cherished convictions, and her unruffled deportment.</p>
+
+<p>"I be a whited sepulchre," she told Solomon.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, during these Spring days, when May was dancing in the
+woods and across the fields, rest and refreshment fell upon Mrs.
+Yellam's perplexed mind. By sheer force of will, for her own sake and
+for Fancy's sake, she called "Pax" to introspection, and, like a
+schoolboy, almost believed that the kindliest dew from heaven had fallen
+upon her. During this month, too, Alfred happened to be out of the
+danger zone, busy with new drafts who had not yet been under fire. And
+everybody in Nether-Applewhite predicted that the war must end soon
+because sheer exhaustion, military and economic, affected so
+tremendously the belligerents. Upon this <i>cheval de bataille</i> Sir
+Geoffrey Pomfret rode over all obstacles. Old Captain Davenant bestrode
+just such another charger. Uncle, you may be sure, ran with them,
+throwing his tongue, speaking to a breast-high scent.</p>
+
+<p>"We be nigh the end on't," he told his cronies. "They Proosians be
+more fed up wi' mud and blood than us. I talks of what I knows. The
+slaughter o' they Huns be so fearsome that Kayser Bill be a-thinkin'
+night and day o' polligammy."</p>
+
+<p>"Polly&mdash;who? I never heard tell o' she, Uncle."</p>
+
+<p>To this interruption Uncle replied with something of his sister's
+majesty.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! This war'd be over now, if beastly ignerunce ran mute.
+Polligammy be practised, as I told old Captain, by cannibals and such.
+For why? Because they eats up the young men, and then there bain't
+husbands enough to go round. Polligammy allows a man to marry so many
+wives as he's a mind to."</p>
+
+<p>"Lard preserve our dear lives!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my sonnies, that's how life be preserved amongst savage tribes.
+They Huns be cannibals and worse. When I told Squire as they fellers
+used corps to make them tasty Bolony sausages, he couldn't believe me;
+but 'tis a fact."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know?" asked William Saint.</p>
+
+<p>"Never you mind how I knows, Saint Willum. I don't never help myself
+to what isn't mine. I nourishes meself wi' sober truth, not lies. Where
+be I? Ah, yes. Well, neighbours, they be come to that pretty pass, <ins
+title="'pollygammy' in the original">polligammy</ins>. I allows that one
+wife be enough for me."</p>
+
+<p>"More than enough, 'tis said, Uncle."</p>
+
+<p>"You be seldom right, my man, but times you hit the mark. Now, I
+figures it out this way. They Huns be savages, but not fools. One wife
+be more'n enough for any man, and if so be as Kayser Bill makes
+polligammy the law in German land, why, I says they won't stick it. 'Tis
+the beginning o' the end."</p>
+
+<p>An old gaffer was not sure about this. Women in Germany, so he'd been
+told, worked with dogs in carts. A farmer with fifty wives might get a
+lot of work out of them. The gaffer spoke with some authority, having
+buried three wives in his time. All present knew that they had worked
+hard for their husband. Uncle, however, after more strong talk and weak
+ale, convinced his audience that peace would be declared before October.
+Wiser folk held the same opinion.</p>
+
+<p>The villagers, at last, were beginning to feel the pinch of war.
+Wages had risen, greatly to their satisfaction, but prices outstripped
+them. The local store closed shutters, because the proprietor was called
+up. The baker was baking bread somewhere in the North Sea. On Sundays
+Mrs. Yellam and other housewives ate cold victuals for dinner, unless
+they stayed away from Morning Service to make hot beef-and-kidney
+puddings. Shopping had to be done in Salisbury. This meant increased
+business for the carrier. But, unhappily, Alfred's <i>locum tenens</i>
+lacked the executive ability to cope successfully with a glut of
+orders.</p>
+
+<p>In August, William Saint began a daily service to the county town.
+Peace fled, silently, from Mrs. Yellam's pillow.</p>
+
+<p>In September, worse followed. Fortune, cruel jade, lashed out at Mrs.
+Yellam, striking her hard below the belt. Alfred's resplendent 'bus was
+knocked into a deep ditch by a huge Government trolley, which rolled
+serenely on&mdash;undamaged.</p>
+
+<p><i>Et tu, Brute&mdash;&mdash;!</i></p>
+
+<p>Try to picture Mrs. Yellam's feelings. The 'bus was out of action.
+That in itself might be deemed a serious mishap, to use a word often in
+Nether-Applewhite mouths, a word applicable to murders, chicken-pox,
+frozen water-pipes and other domestic disasters. External and internal
+injuries to the car might be set right in six weeks or so. Skilled
+mechanics in Salisbury were overworked. No definite promise could be
+extracted from the firm that sold the 'bus to Alfred. But the driver,
+the middle-aged man whom, with all his faults, Mrs. Yellam had come to
+regard as a tower of sobriety and honesty, sustained concussion of the
+brain. He soon recovered from this but, alas! his nerve was gone.
+Obstinately, deaf to Fancy's coaxing and to Mrs. Yellam's trenchant
+protestations, he tendered notice. How could he be replaced? By the time
+that the 'bus was in order again&mdash;insurance covered all
+damage&mdash;William Saint would have captured Alfred's faithful
+customers; the faithless were his already.</p>
+
+<p>But what rankled so bitterly in Mrs. Yellam's heart, and would have
+provoked the Cæsarean apostrophe had she indulged in quotations from the
+Swan of Avon, was the tormenting reflection that the Army had dealt her
+this parlous blow, the Army she loved, because Alfred was part of it.
+Rampaging on, like a ruthless Juggernaut, the trolley had crashed into
+the 'bus, wiping it out, killing it and burying it in a ditch.</p>
+
+<p>Sympathy flowed into the Yellam cottage from all points of the
+compass, a generous flood upon which Fancy floated buoyantly. Poor Mrs.
+Yellam sank beneath it, helplessly aware of its significance. Everybody,
+of course, knew that Alfred's business was bound up in the 'bus, ditched
+indefinitely, perhaps forever. The cynical thought obtruded itself,
+grinning derisively; help was proffered so eagerly, because it could not
+be accepted.</p>
+
+<p>Satan had triumphed again.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle was nearly as much upset as the 'bus. The gallant fellow
+offered his services to his sister.</p>
+
+<p>"Look 'ee here, Susan. I be a man o' parts. 'Tis no trick for me to
+larn motor-drivin'. To use a figure o' speech, I be a born shover,
+clever, as you be, wi' my brain and my fingers. Such a thatcher as
+Habakkuk Mucklow be fit for anything. I feel it in me, dear, to command
+armies. Say the word, and I'll declare war wi' Saint Willum; I'll
+downscramble 'un in two jiffs."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam thanked him, but the word was not said.</p>
+
+<p>She appeared to accept misfortune with grim resignation. Not even to
+Fancy dared she unveil her heart. Alone with Solomon, she permitted a
+few words to escape.</p>
+
+<p>"My faith, Solly, be on the wing again. Why should God Almighty raise
+His hand against an old 'ooman? He might ha' seen fit to cripple me wi'
+rheumatics. I could ha' borne that wi'out whimpering. But why do He
+exalt Willum Saint? That's what tears me, my dog."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon spared no effort of mind or body in the attempt to assure his
+mistress that these high matters were apprehended by all dumb animals.
+Conscious of failure, he became very dejected.</p>
+
+<p>A letter from Alfred heartened her a little.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">"Dear Mother:" (he wrote) "I hope this finds you
+in the pink, as it leaves me. Don't worry about the old 'bus! <i>I
+don't, not a bit.</i> I have a notion that if you worry much 'twill be
+bad for Fancy and for Somebody Else, you know who I mean. As for William
+Saint, I say this&mdash;take a squint at his face! I wouldn't have his
+liver for the best carrying business in the world. If you've set your
+dear heart on my punching a rascal's head, I'll do it, so soon as I get
+back, and make a job of it, too. Hard blows hurt them as get them; hard
+thoughts hurt them as think them. I puzzled that out in the trenches,
+where we be making very merry again. You'll worry too about the loss of
+money. I say to that&mdash;<i>Napoo</i>! That's French. I parleyvoo with
+the best of them, but when it comes to buying stuff, they do me in a
+fair treat...." </p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam read and re-read the letter. Fancy was at the Court when
+it came. Then she said to Solomon:</p>
+
+<p>"Wherever does that boy o' mine get his Christian principles? Not
+from me, Solly, not from me. Wag tail, little man, and I'll tell 'ee for
+why. Willum Saint, next Christmas, maybe, 'll take such a head to
+Salisbury as never was."</p>
+
+<p>Sol barked.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred's sentence about merry-making in the trenches provoked much
+thought. Mrs. Yellam had talked freely with scores of wounded Tommies.
+They came, they conquered all reserves, they went. Some actually
+complained that life in Nether-Applewhite seemed "dull" after the "fun"
+in the dug-outs. At first, she suspected "leg-pulling," but she limped
+to the slow conclusion that the high spirits of these gallant fellows
+came <i>from</i> the trenches, and were not, as she had supposed at
+first, a natural result of finding themselves snug and safe after
+shell-fire. Possessing the qualities which distinguish a "tufting"
+hound&mdash;a good nose for a scent, staying powers, and tenacity in
+sticking to her quarry, Mrs. Yellam decided, ultimately, that millions
+of young men and women were living, like gnats, for the passing hour,
+buzzing gaily here and there, utterly regardless of past and future.</p>
+
+<p>Could she bring herself to so happy a condition of mind?</p>
+
+<p>"Take no thought for the morrow."</p>
+
+<p>That injunction couldn't be ignored. Nevertheless, she had ignored it
+all her life. Hence, from a material point of view, her sound economic
+condition. She was independent of the 'bus.</p>
+
+<p>Such thoughts were obsessing, also, the parson of the parish.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin was quite as handicapped as Mrs. Yellam by principles adopted
+long ago which he deemed, before the war, to be bomb-proof. He had
+pinned his faith to the masses, dismissing the classes as effete and
+lapped in luxury and indifference. All workers appealed to him
+irresistibly; men and women of leisure rather exasperated him. He held
+with Matthew Arnold that conduct was three-fourths of life, whereas
+culture might or might not claim the odd quarter.</p>
+
+<p>The masses had disappointed him. The classes seemed to have justified
+their claim to superiority not in mere education but in a capacity and
+willingness to scrap self-interest which astounded him. He had expected,
+too, a tremendous upward movement from German Socialists. Indeed, he had
+regarded the Socialists of Europe as a band of brothers prepared to
+stand shoulder to shoulder against autocracy.</p>
+
+<p>And they had not done so.</p>
+
+<p>He could find for the masses, not at the front, all the excuses which
+fell so glibly from the lips of Democracy's champions. Strikers
+complained of lack of good faith on the part of the Government, of local
+injustices, of this and that, but the fact remained that self-interest
+swayed them, as it had swayed the privileged classes before the war. The
+tables seemed to be turned. Aristocracy, governed possibly by its fine
+motto, "<i>Noblesse oblige</i>," hurled self-interest to the void;
+Democracy picked it up and hugged it. Indisputable evidence exhibited
+Labour as rejoicing in an increased wage, and spending pounds a week
+upon luxuries, many actually praying that the war might continue,
+because they believed that the end of it would mean a return to dull,
+grinding pre-war conditions.</p>
+
+<p>And Hamlin admitted sorrowfully to himself that if the war did end
+suddenly, leaving Labour triumphant, insatiate for more and more wealth,
+and in a position to dictate terms to Capital, that the country would be
+plunged into abysmal depths, depths in which new tyrants would impose a
+new slavery without any of the restrictions which culture and tradition
+had prescribed upon the former autocrats and plutocrats.</p>
+
+<p>He envisaged England at the mercy of the mob!</p>
+
+<p>With pleasure and relief he turned from the Industrials to the
+Soldiers. What a fine spirit animated them! With Mrs. Yellam, he had
+arrived, by a different road, at the same conclusion.</p>
+
+<p>Our men of all ranks were facing unspeakable horrors with a
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>How had it come to pass?</p>
+
+<p>According to Hamlin's teaching, a supreme Sacrifice, a Divine
+Atonement, had regenerated the pagan world. Did sacrifice make not only
+for regeneration but for joyousness? Lionel Pomfret, still on his
+crutches, was joyous. The Squire, after the sale of many heirlooms, was
+joyous. A finer humanity informed him, radiating from him.</p>
+
+<p>The Parson pondered these things in his heart. He might have found
+another object-lesson in William Saint. He was unmistakably prospering,
+making money hand over fist. But he was not joyous.</p>
+
+<p>Very reluctantly, Hamlin decided that the time for peace might be far
+distant, if the designs of Omnipotence were rightly apprehended by him.
+Armageddon would continue till pain had purged the whole world, till
+materialism in its hydraheaded forms was slain by spirituality, by a
+faith, simple as that preached by the Nazarene, which counted worldly
+gain as naught if such gain involved the loss of the soul.</p>
+
+<p>Faithful to his promise to Alfred, Hamlin kept a watchful eye on Mrs.
+Yellam. Her empty pew had affected him poignantly. He thought of empty
+pews throughout Europe. They stood mute witnesses against teachers and
+preachers, against creeds that crumbled when the cannon thundered. He
+respected this old woman for braving gossip by staying at home. She had
+moral courage, nearly as rare and even more precious than common-sense.
+But when she came back to her pew, when he heard her loud responses, he
+realised sadly that her son, not her God, had found this wandering sheep
+and led it back to the fold.</p>
+
+<p>At any moment the pew might be empty again.</p>
+
+<p>Next Sunday, he took for his text the verse out of the
+hundredth-and-sixth Psalm:</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">"<i>And He gave them their desire; but withal He
+sent leanness into their soul.</i>" </p>
+
+<p>No coincidence was involved in this choice of a text. Fancy
+Broomfield, before she married, had asked her master to explain
+"leanness of soul." He had said a few simple words. Afterwards, he
+jotted down some notes and put them away.</p>
+
+<p>He re-read these notes, thinking of William Saint, whose activities
+had not escaped his notice. But he wrote the sermon with a wider
+application. And although he had to bear in mind the limited
+intelligence of his congregation, what he set down constituted an
+indictment of a material, world-wide prosperity.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin began by reminding his parishioners of what he had said in his
+sermon on patriotism: the soul in its essence was always right.</p>
+
+<p>"What there is of it," he added impressively. "Some souls are very
+lean."</p>
+
+<p>Jane Mucklow maintained afterwards that the Parson looked hard at
+Uncle. Uncle was equally positive that austere eyes dwelt on Jane. Mrs.
+Yellam sat bolt upright in her pew with Fancy beside her. William Saint
+assumed an air of detachment. He attended church once a week to curry
+favour with his Squire and landlord. He held Hamlin in some disdain,
+because so able a man had pushed himself no farther along preferment's
+highway than Nether-Applewhite. A man who had played cricket for the
+Gentlemen of England ought surely to be a dean at least, if he had any
+gumption in him.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin repeated the text.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to notice," he said, in his quiet voice, "that the word
+'soul' is used in the singular. God sent leanness into the soul of His
+people. Nations, therefore, like individuals, possess souls.</p>
+
+<p>"Has leanness entered into our national soul?</p>
+
+<p>"We have prospered exceedingly. We are even richer than our expert
+accountants deemed us to be. Some of you may have glanced casually at
+the stupendous figures which set forth the wealth and resources of the
+British Empire. We forget to consider how this vast wealth is piled up.
+It is not my purpose to consider that with you, to-day. But such
+consideration is the duty of those who are able to deal intelligently
+with these astounding figures.</p>
+
+<p>"We have been, in short, given our desire.</p>
+
+<p>"In the text you will note that God gave His people their desire; and
+then He sent leanness into their souls.</p>
+
+<p>"What was their desire? The Psalmist informs us in the context. God's
+Chosen People had wandered from Him. They had corrupted themselves, as
+we read in Exodus. I will cite one instance known to the youngest child
+here: they had set up and worshipped the calf of Horeb, the golden calf,
+which has stood forth ever since as the symbol of Mammon, the symbol of
+material prosperity. They wanted this golden calf, and God gave it to
+them. And then He sent leanness into their soul.</p>
+
+<p>"To many of us this text presents difficulties. Is it wrong for a
+nation to desire worldly prosperity? Is it wrong for an individual, for
+any one of us, to desire to better one's condition in life, to rise, as
+it is called, in the world? Most certainly not. Such a desire is firmly
+rooted in every healthy nation, in every healthy man and woman. It is
+basic, the mainspring of human endeavour and human advancement, rooted
+in nations and individuals by God.</p>
+
+<p>"The desire, then, in its simplest form, must be right. Its
+accomplishment may be utterly wrong.</p>
+
+<p>"Desires change their character during accomplishment. Thrift, for
+instance, may degenerate into parsimony; temperance, if uncontrolled,
+leads to intemperance; the noblest ambitions may become insensate;
+proper care of the body, which I have commended to you, may end in
+vanity; love, alas! is often deformed into lust. All that is obvious.
+Nobody here questions it.</p>
+
+<p>"Desires, then, face two ways. They may lead us to God or away from
+Him; they may enrich or impoverish the soul.</p>
+
+<p>"But why, you may ask, does God, as in the text, deliberately gratify
+soul-impoverishing desires in a nation, with the knowledge and therefore
+with the intention of making the soul of that nation lean?</p>
+
+<p>"The answer is plain. Nations, like individuals, exercise the
+privilege of free-will. The choice between good and evil is theirs, as
+it is mine, and yours.</p>
+
+<p>"How can we tell whether the soul of a nation be lean?</p>
+
+<p>"There is an infallible test, the same test which each of us must
+apply to ourselves. Never forget that what we think, we are. What we go
+on thinking, we become. By a nation's thoughts, by your own thoughts,
+the soul's stature may be measured. If the thoughts of a nation, if your
+own thoughts, dwell habitually upon self-advancement and
+self-indulgence, be sure that the soul is dwindling instead of
+expanding. If our thoughts, collectively or individually, are hard,
+jealous thoughts concerning other nations, the soul is growing lean. But
+when we think of others with love animating our thoughts, and if that
+love, in ever-widening circles, includes not only our friends but all,
+all who claim from us pity and consideration, then it is very well with
+the soul. It is expanding, and it is capable of an expansion so immense
+that, like Time and Space, no finite mind can measure it. Hate
+impoverishes souls and bodies. A man under the influence of violent
+passion is physically the worse. Any doctor will tell you that. A nation
+convulsed by hate is physically weaker. Violence is not strength. It may
+appear to be so for a brief time. In a stand-up fight, between two men,
+the man who loses his temper is likely to lose the victory. At this
+moment, a gospel of hate is convulsing our enemies. We may, and must,
+hate what they have done, the atrocious crimes perpetrated by and for
+Authority, but let us beware of hating, as they hate, because such
+rancour eats away the soul. Let us remember Who said: 'God forgive them,
+for they know not what they do!'</p>
+
+<p>"Let us consider more attentively the desires of a nation and their
+direction&mdash;upward or downward. I repeat emphatically that the
+desires of a nation are the desires of the individual <ins
+title="'immeasureably' in the original">immeasurably</ins>
+multiplied.</p>
+
+<p>"And, first, I should like to suggest to you that desires concerned
+with material ends, such as money, or any other worldly ambition, are
+generally gratified, provided we work for them hard enough.</p>
+
+<p>"When are desires soul-impoverishing? How can we tell when a nation
+or an individual, after rising steadily upward, reaches a point from
+which they and he, as steadily, descend?</p>
+
+<p>"The answer may be found in the Book of Micah: 'He hath shewed thee,
+O man, what is good, and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do
+justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?'</p>
+
+<p>"In itself a nation can achieve much, so can an individual; but if
+self-advancement, in any form, whether modest or far-reaching, relies
+upon itself and takes to itself the credit and glory, then we are not
+walking humbly with God, but speeding from Him along a road that may
+lead to success, as the world interprets success, but which leads, also,
+to disappointment, disillusionment, and often at the
+last&mdash;despair.</p>
+
+<p>"The great conquerors of history have not been happy men.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything that is done vaingloriously turns to ashes. From that sad
+thought we may take this much consolation. Ashes, as you farmers know,
+are great fertilisers. I know of no greater proof of God's wisdom and
+mercy than this: the ashes of our failures do, so I believe, cause good
+to bloom out of evil.</p>
+
+<p>"If it be true that leanness has been sent into the soul of this
+nation, if we have not walked humbly with God, what can be done? The
+answer is to be found not only in the Bible, but in every chapter of the
+world's history. We must make atonement by sacrifice."</p>
+
+<p>He paused, and many remembered that pause afterwards. The preacher
+stood erect, but his eyes were not on the congregation. They looked out
+dreamily into a world in anguish. Tears trickled down Fancy's cheeks.
+With her quick sensibilities, she divined that the Parson's thoughts had
+flown to France, where his Benjamin was fighting, not in hate, none who
+knew the boy could believe that, but inspired by the faith that a
+selfless Cause would triumph. Instantly, her own thoughts flew to
+Alfred. If&mdash;if sacrifice were demanded of her&mdash;? She looked
+up. Some intuition told her that Hamlin was ready for any sacrifice. His
+face appeared calm. But she became aware of tension, as if a far-seeing
+man were braced against impending calamity. She recalled stories current
+in the village after the <i>Lusitania</i> was torpedoed: stories of men
+who had confronted death without a tremor. Surely, at such a moment God
+stood with them.</p>
+
+<p>Would He stand with her, if Alfred did not come back?</p>
+
+<p>She stole a glance at Mrs. Yellam.</p>
+
+<p>Her face remained impassive. But again intuition told Fancy that this
+outward calmness masked bitter trouble and perplexity. Timidly she
+slipped her hand into the hand of the old woman, pressing it gently. The
+pressure was not returned, because, perhaps, it may not have been felt.
+Mrs. Yellam, Fancy perceived, was staring at a mural tablet to the right
+of the pulpit, new and shining brass upon which were inscribed the names
+of two nephews of Captain Davenant. He had read the Lessons, as usual,
+but in a less rasping voice, so she had thought. She heard Hamlin's
+quiet tones:</p>
+
+<p>"Let us prepare ourselves for greater sacrifices."</p>
+
+<p>The rest of the sermon was devoted to particular rather than general
+ends. The Parson appealed, as was his wont, to the children, and the
+younger members of the congregation, the twigs waiting to be inclined.
+And to these his appeal was persuasive and suggestive, never didactic or
+minatory. He shone best when conducting a children's service, when he
+walked amongst them using the simplest words.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps he knew that the middle-aged and old could be touched to
+finer issues indirectly. In every heart, however worn and tired, there
+lingers a subtle fragrance of youth which thought of youth releases. The
+sad fact that many of the elder people were mourning may have tempered
+what speech he addressed to them, and many of them were aware of this,
+shifting uneasily in their pews as they remembered similar words spoken
+in the same place by the same man twenty years back.</p>
+
+<p>Once more, Mrs. Yellam walked home in silence. Fancy, engrossed by
+her own thoughts, did not speak till they entered the cottage. Then she
+said, hesitatingly:</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis strange. We talked of lean souls the first day Alfie brought me
+to see you."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay&mdash;so we did."</p>
+
+<p>"And afterwards I asked Mr. Hamlin to tell me what 'lean souls'
+meant."</p>
+
+<p>"Did 'ee? He never looked once at me this marning."</p>
+
+<p>"Why should he?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam answered heavily:</p>
+
+<p>"I dunno. But I'd a notion that he had me in mind. 'Twas a notable
+sermon, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"</p>
+
+<p>"He ain't been tried as I have."</p>
+
+<p>She went upstairs slowly to take off her bonnet and shawl.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the following Wednesday, the sermon assumed a fresh importance
+and significance.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">Edward Hamlin was killed in action.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch16"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h3>
+
+<h4>SAINT WILLUM</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">It was a blow over the heart to Nether-Applewhite. Master
+Teddy, as everybody called him, had grown to man's estate amongst the
+villagers, but he was remembered as a boy, full of pranks, a bit of a
+scapegrace, with a smile that Uncle affirmed to be "so good as
+sixpence." Uncle assumed a band of crêpe, and said to Susan Yellam:</p>
+
+<p>"Master Teddy be taken, and us useless old sticks be left. I taught
+'un to set night lines. He'd a tang o' the poacher, he had, but allers
+ready to give away what trout he catched out o' old Captain's water.
+Bold as brass, too, wi' rich or poor. And a good fighter. He fit 'No
+Account Harry' back o' village pound, and licked 'un, too, a boy
+bigger'n older'n he. A pleasant word for all, and fair bustin' wi' fun
+and kindness. I tell 'ee this, I be so sorrowful as if I'd lost a son,
+but there's rejoicing where he be gone. I can see Saint Peter a-openin'
+wide the gate to let 'un in."</p>
+
+<p>Greater orators have declaimed less sincere funeral orations.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam said little. Her troubled face made Fancy unhappy. But
+when she spoke of Edward Hamlin, Mrs. Yellam cut her short:</p>
+
+<p>"He be gone. It don't bear speaking of. Why should such as he be
+sacrificed to atone for our sins?"</p>
+
+<p>"If God gave His Only Son&mdash;&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! That be it. <i>If....</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Mother!"</p>
+
+<p>"You be shocked, and no wonder. But unless I speaks what I feels to
+'ee, I must hold my tongue. And more decent, too. I be mazed beyond
+words. I be losing my grip o' this world and the next."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy met Hamlin two days afterwards as she was leaving Pomfret
+Court. She quickened her step, but he stopped still. She said
+simply:</p>
+
+<p>"I be so grieved about Mr. Edward. He was so full of life."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin took her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you. The sympathy of all of you is much to me, more than you
+think." He paused adding slowly: "He may be fuller of life, Fancy, where
+he is now."</p>
+
+<p>She went her way, strangely comforted. Her time was approaching. Soon
+she must remain at home, awaiting her ordeal. She confronted that with
+the courage which is so often the attribute of physically frail women.
+The month before the wonderful event would be happily occupied in making
+the <i>layette</i> or such of it as Mrs. Yellam couldn't provide; and
+Fancy had in mind the lining and trimming of a baby-basket fit for a
+tiny prince. She intended to embroider a broad blue riband with this
+legend: "To my little son." She made absolutely certain that the child
+would be a son. Already she had envisaged his life from the cradle to
+the grave. She wouldn't allow him to play too rough games, but he must
+be a <i>Man</i>; she shrank from what he would have to go through before
+he attained his sire's stature; she rehearsed a prayer suitable for
+babbling lips; she arrayed him in knickerbockers and despatched him to
+school, with many injunctions not to play truant, or pull the hair of
+small girls, or be pert to his teacher. Of course, he would be just such
+a son to her as Alfred was to his mother. She went so far in mental
+vagabondage as to choose a wife for him, a very practical young woman
+with a reassuring physique, quite unlike herself. Being his father's
+son, every inch of him, it was certain that he would have "affairs" with
+other young women before he chose the "One and Only." Fancy meant to
+deal faithfully with such flirtations. One of them would nearly capture
+the youth. He would be saved from a too audacious baggage by his mother!
+She hoped that he would not be too good, but full of fun, like Mr.
+Edward. He would be a carrier, because all wars would be over and done
+with after this war.</p>
+
+<p>These were her day-dreams.</p>
+
+<p>At night, she was not so happy. At night she thought much of Mrs.
+Yellam. That troubled face formed itself in the dark, mutely entreating
+comfort and counsel which Fancy could not evoke out of her eagerness to
+help a sorely-stricken creature.</p>
+
+<p>Why did Mrs. Yellam borrow trouble?</p>
+
+<p>Why did she believe that God had forsaken her? What a terrible notion
+this of Satan supreme and triumphant in Nether-Applewhite! But she had
+faith in God's mercy. He would lift this black cloud from a poor old
+woman's heart.</p>
+
+<p>About two weeks after Edward Hamlin's death, unexpected balm, very
+precious spikenard, was poured upon Mrs. Yellam's lacerated feelings.
+William Saint had got his desire and leanness of soul withal. Alfred's
+good business was his. When he drove past the Yellam cottage, Mrs.
+Yellam turned her face from the window, if she happened to be there. She
+told Uncle that she discerned a mocking smile, a contemptuous upper lip,
+upon that hard, yellow face. Uncle nodded, saying nothing. But leaving
+his sister's house, he laid a couple of fingers upon his biceps as he
+contracted the muscles of it. He smiled genially. His biceps still
+swelled hard and big as a cricket ball. And only the day before he had
+been out running with the hounds. William Saint did not run. He walked
+to his objectives, the sort of tortoise, Uncle reflected, who wins
+prizes from the more nimble hare.</p>
+
+<p>He was so pleasant with Jane that she suspected a frontal attack upon
+her money-box. Uncle, however, impetrated no loan. Later in the
+afternoon, when she went to the fowl-house to collect eggs, she
+surprised her lord and master, with his coat off, vigorously punching a
+sack of bran in the shed that adjoined the chicken-run.</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever be you doing?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle grinned.</p>
+
+<p>"I be working off some ale, Jane. So thin stuff it be that I wants to
+get rid of it quick."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you was gone mad."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! Others may think that afore we be much older."</p>
+
+<p>To her further amazement, Uncle remained at home that evening instead
+of going to the <i>Sir John Barleycorn</i>. She wondered if he were
+sickening for an illness. Possibly, the Parson's sermon on lean souls
+had affected him. Presently Uncle's earnest words lent colour to this
+possibility. He observed didactically:</p>
+
+<p>"Hate be bad for the body. Parson got that notion from me. A man as
+hates his feller-men, and lies awake nights plottin' and plannin' evil,
+bain't never a fighter."</p>
+
+<p>"How about they Proosians?"</p>
+
+<p>Uncle riposted gaily:</p>
+
+<p>"I hain't one to misparage the enemy, but from what I hears, and you
+knows I hears more than most, they Proosians fights wi' wallopin' big
+guns, not wi' fisteses."</p>
+
+<p>"Who's talking o' fisteses?"</p>
+
+<p>"I be. I reckons as a man past sixty might well stand up to a
+Proosian not more'n thirty."</p>
+
+<p>"You ain't never thinking of enlisting, Habakkuk?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no. I couldn't leave 'ee, Jane."</p>
+
+<p>"You takes keer o' yourself for my sake. I knows that. What be you
+thinking of?"</p>
+
+<p>"You'll know soon enough, old girl. I minds that time when I bruised
+meself so bad slidin' off a slippery roof bang on to a stone wall. You
+rubbed in some wonnerful stuff. Any of it left?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lard help us! I knew you'd miss your ale. You bain't never thinking
+o' drinking Helliman's Embrocation?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet. Have you the bottle handy?"</p>
+
+<p>Jane nodded; Uncle relapsed into silence, broken by rumblings and
+chucklings. He went to bed early and slept soundly.</p>
+
+<p>Next afternoon, at four, he entered the sanded bar of Saint's tavern.
+Saint drove his 'bus to Salisbury upon alternate days. He had a man to
+take his place upon the other days when business kept him at home.
+Behind the bar stood a fresh-coloured young woman, quick of tongue and
+hand, floridly good-looking, with very alert eyes. Gossip affirmed that
+she was secretly engaged to Saint. Jane Mucklow remarked that the hussy
+ought to be, if she wasn't. Uncle greeted her pleasantly, nodded to
+those present, called for a tankard of ale, and enquired tenderly after
+Saint Willum. The young woman frowned. Then she said sharply:</p>
+
+<p>"I've a mind to tell you something."</p>
+
+<p>The company present pricked ears. Uncle smiled, drawing himself up,
+inflating his chest, quite ready for a preliminary spar.</p>
+
+<p>"You tell it, my girl. 'Tis crool to think o' what wimmen-folk suffer
+from allers holding their tongues."</p>
+
+<p>"Your tongue is too sharp. Mr. Saint is civil to you. Be civil to
+him. That's all."</p>
+
+<p>She drew his ale, and handed it to him.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle looked at her with twinkling eyes. She was making things easy
+for him, and he felt quite grateful to her. She had fired the first
+shot. This might or might not be used as a <i>casus belli</i>. He said,
+meaningly:</p>
+
+<p>"Be that advice or a warning like?"</p>
+
+<p>"Take it as both, Mr. Mucklow."</p>
+
+<p>"I will. Now, tell me this, my girl; be you speaking for yourself, or
+for your master? If you be speaking for yourself, I be minded to tell
+'ee that you be paid to serve customers, and not to improve their
+manners. If you be speaking for Willum Saint, I thanks you very kindly
+and passes no more remarks."</p>
+
+<p>This, it will be admitted, was a crafty speech on Uncle's part, and
+pleased him mightily. The girl was sure to resent a rebuke before
+others, and already the gaffers were grinning at her. If she shifted
+responsibility to Saint Willum, a <i>casus belli</i> had been
+established. The young woman lacked Uncle's <i>finesse</i>. She answered
+sullenly:</p>
+
+<p>"I spoke up for Mr. Saint, because he's not here to speak for
+himself."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle felt that this was not satisfactory enough, although
+promising.</p>
+
+<p>"You means," he said incisively, "that you speaks words which your
+master bain't man enough to speak for hisself, either to my face or
+behind me back?"</p>
+
+<p>The derisive intonation placed upon "master" brought a flush to the
+girl's cheek. Her eyes sparkled. And she believed Saint to be a man.</p>
+
+<p>"If you want it straight," she retorted, "the words I used have been
+spoken by Mr. Saint and others."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank 'ee," said Uncle, lifting his tankard. "I drinks to your good
+health, miss. Cheer oh! as our dear lads say."</p>
+
+<p>He buried his nose in the tankard. But he drank little in it,
+carrying it to the stout oak table near the fire. The gaffers testified
+afterwards, that Uncle's talk, before Saint came in, was even more
+genial and easy than usual. And Saint's face, when he appeared, was in
+marked contrast to Uncle's rubicund cheerful countenance. Obviously
+Saint was out of temper. He had been cited to appear before the local
+tribunal again, and exemption might not be granted twice. "Comb-out"
+articles were appearing in the daily press. And Saint, who tapped
+private sources of information, was well aware that Captain Davenant,
+Chairman of the Board, had expressed a strong opinion that Saint, a
+Class A fellow, b'George! ought to be kicked into the ranks. Saint had
+just begun to realise, also, that he was hoist with his own petard.
+Alfred Yellam, as carrier, set a precedent, shewing that carriers could
+find less able-bodied men to transact necessary local business.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle looked hard at him.</p>
+
+<p>"What's wrong, Saint Willum?" he asked, in the drawling tone that
+always provoked a cackle from the gaffers.</p>
+
+<p>Saint looked hard at Uncle. He had good reason for knowing that Uncle
+saw eye to eye with the Captain. Before entering the bar, the landlord
+of the <i>Sir John Barleycorn</i> had drunk some whisky from a bottle
+which he kept locked up in his bedroom. In a word, he was ripe for a
+quarrel.</p>
+
+<p>"What's wrong?" he repeated viciously. "You are. I'm fed up with your
+insolence. You take yourself off to the <i>Pomfret Arms</i>. The
+landlord there may want your money and your sauce. I've had enough of
+both."</p>
+
+<p>The young woman smiled. If, as she expected, and not without good
+reason, William Saint became her husband, he might turn out, with
+discreet handling, a docile helpmeet. Within twenty-four hours, she had
+urged him to "out" Habakkuk Mucklow at the first opportunity. Saint had
+hesitated, observing angrily that he detested Uncle, and would gladly
+attend his funeral. At the same time, the man brought custom to the
+tavern. If he left it, some of his cronies might leave with him.
+Whereupon the young woman remarked scornfully: "If you can stick it,
+I've nothing more to say." And then she had eyed him slowly from heel to
+head, as if taking stock of an animal not quite sound. Saint knew that
+his manhood had been challenged by a woman who was becoming
+indispensable to him.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle rose, tankard in hand. His smile was so disarming that Saint,
+probably, believed him to be harmless. Accordingly he scowled the more
+fiercely as Uncle slowly approached him. An expert of the prize ring,
+comparing the two men physically, would have said, off-hand, that age
+could never fight youth on equal terms. Saint was stoutly built, heavy
+in the shoulder, with good underpinning. He may have lacked two inches
+of Uncle's height.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle feigned nervousness, luring Saint on. Had the landlord been
+perfectly sober, he might have suspected guile. Whisky had inflamed his
+mind and paralysed his judgment.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't 'ee talk that way, Mr. Saint. I be old enough to be your
+father. And not the man I was."</p>
+
+<p>Saint exploded.</p>
+
+<p>"If you don't walk out, I'll kick you out."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle almost cooed at him.</p>
+
+<p>"What brave words to an old gaffer past sixty! And before ladies,
+too."</p>
+
+<p>The sly emphasis on "ladies" provoked a titter from a granfer warmed
+by hot ale.</p>
+
+<p>Saint sprang to the attack. Now, Uncle, the sly old campaigner, had
+foreseen this opening. He knew well enough the advantage of a first
+blow. He knew, also, that Saint, out of condition as he was, might end a
+fight at close quarters in thirty seconds. Within one minute, so Uncle
+reckoned, Saint would have lost fifty per cent of energy and endurance.
+With a gay laugh he dashed the ale he had so valiantly refrained from
+drinking in Saint's face.</p>
+
+<p>"That'll cool 'ee," said Uncle, as he side-stepped as gracefully as a
+dancing-master.</p>
+
+<p>Saint was half-blinded, but now well aware that Uncle meant business.
+He must "finish" him at once, inflict a "knock-out" blow. He charged
+again, head down, like an infuriated bull. Sober reflection might have
+warned him that Uncle's arms were longer than his. Uncle raised the
+tankard and brought it down hard upon a thick skull. Saint fell to the
+floor, stunned. The young woman screamed out:</p>
+
+<p>"You've killed him!"</p>
+
+<p>Uncle laughed pleasantly:</p>
+
+<p>"Not me. I only tapped 'un. Don't 'ee be afeard, my dear. He'll live
+to make 'ee miserable. I hopes as I ain't hurt this handsome tankard."
+He examined it. "No. 'Tis ale-tight yet. I sees a dent though. 'Twill
+serve, like rosemary, for remembrance. Ah-h-h! He be comin' to."</p>
+
+<p>Saint raised his head, but remained huddled up on the sanded floor,
+rubbing his head and staring at the grinning faces about him. Uncle
+addressed him with courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>"Willum Saint, I be a marciful man. There be many here as could
+testify and swear by the Book as you assaulted and batteried me, but I
+won't have the law on 'ee. More, never again will I call 'ee Saint
+Willum. For why?&mdash;your immortial soul be too lean. I means to call
+'ee, after this memorable day, Mr. Sinner. And now, Mr. Sinner, I takes
+myself off to the <i>Pomfret Arms</i>, and my friends go wi' me."</p>
+
+<p>Three out of the five other men rose solemnly, and called for their
+reckoning. The two that remained might have done so had they possessed
+cash in their pockets.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle took off his hat to the young woman, and bowed politely:</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye, miss. If he become too rampagious, do 'ee whisper
+'tankard' to 'un."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle did not walk straight to the <i>Pomfret Arms</i>; he fetched a
+compass, calling upon Mrs. Yellam. He told his tale without
+embellishment. Susan threw back her head and laughed. Then she kissed
+her brother.</p>
+
+<p>"Habakkuk," she said solemnly, "'twas a gert victory for you, <i>and
+for me</i>, over Satan."</p>
+
+<p>Next day, by the luck of things, Saint met Uncle face to face in the
+village street.</p>
+
+<p>"You downed me last night, because I wasn't sober."</p>
+
+<p>"Drunk <i>and</i> disorderly!" exclaimed Uncle, raising his voice so
+that others might hear. "What would Squire say, if so be as you came
+afore the Bench?"</p>
+
+<p>Saint was perfectly sober and smugly self-possessed.</p>
+
+<p>"You couldn't down me this morning."</p>
+
+<p>"I be willing to try," said Uncle, perceiving that he had room for
+side-stepping. "You takes your coat off and I takes off mine, and we
+goes at it, here and now, slam-bang."</p>
+
+<p>Saint declined this cordial invitation. He scowled at Uncle, and went
+his way.</p>
+
+<p>Next Sunday Mrs. Yellam's responses were half a second ahead of the
+congregation. On the Saturday Fancy had received a long letter from
+Alfred. He was out of the danger zone again, and in a rest camp with his
+men, who "groused" at "fatigues" imposed upon them unreasonably. Alfred
+reported himself sound of left arm, and, as <ins title="'usuel' in the
+original">usual</ins>, "in the pink." William Saint did not attend
+Divine Service, thinking, possibly, that a large strip of plaster across
+his head might distract the attention of the congregation. In this he
+was needlessly thoughtful, inasmuch as everybody in the parish knew what
+had happened in the sanded tap-room, and acclaimed Uncle as the true
+sire of a valorous son. Uncle sat in his pew, as upright as Mrs. Yellam,
+inviting inspection with an upward cock of one eyebrow, as much as to
+say:</p>
+
+<p>"Look at me, neighbours. Not a mark on me!"</p>
+
+<p>You may be sure that the Squire had the epic pat from the lips of
+Captain Davenant, to whom Uncle had recited it when shooting in the New
+Forest. More, the Captain made it clear to the Autocrat how insidiously
+Alfred Yellam had been undermined by "Mr. Sinner." Finally, it was
+decided between them that William Saint would serve his country to
+better advantage away from Nether-Applewhite, and the Squire, gravely
+affected by Susan Yellam's troubles, swore that he would personally see
+to it that Alfred's carrying business should be resurrected. On Monday
+morning, Mrs. Yellam, upon arrival at the Court, was informed that Sir
+Geoffrey wished to see her in his room. For a terrible moment, she
+feared that the Squire might be about to break bad news of Alfred. A
+glance at his jolly face reassured her.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit you down, Susan. Make yourself comfortable. What about a glass
+of port?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam associated port with funerals. She declined any liquid
+refreshment, very politely. The Squire stood upon the hearth-rug,
+beneath the portrait of his father, and thrust his hands in his
+breeches' pockets.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Susan, where is Alfred's 'bus?"</p>
+
+<p>"In Salisbury, Sir Geoffrey."</p>
+
+<p>"Out of dry dock? Ready for the road&mdash;um?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe so, Sir Geoffrey, but Willum Saint has the business; and I
+don't know where to turn for a man."</p>
+
+<p>"That's going to be my affair. I should have made it my affair, if
+you had come to me without my sending for you. Alfred has been treated
+abominably. All the facts never reached my ears till yesterday, when I
+heard about Uncle and the tankard."</p>
+
+<p>He laughed, and Susan laughed with him. The Squire waxed
+confidential.</p>
+
+<p>"Just between us, let it go no further, William Saint will be called
+up."</p>
+
+<p>"The Lard be praised! This be heartsome news, Sir Geoffrey. If you
+gets me a man, trade'll come back."</p>
+
+<p>"You rest easy. I repeat, all this is my affair. I'm still Squire of
+Nether-Applewhite. Have you seen my grandson lately?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Sir Geoffrey."</p>
+
+<p>"You come along with me to the nursery, and we'll have a squint at
+him. He's a whopper."</p>
+
+<p>And thus the sun shone bright once more in Mrs. Yellam's heaven. The
+Squire proved even better than his word. What he said in private to
+William Saint was never known. Sir Geoffrey found, for Mrs. Yellam, a
+reliable driver, an ex-soldier discharged from the army but not
+disabled, with a merry eye and a persuasive tongue. Saint's 'bus went to
+the station, as before, not to Salisbury.</p>
+
+<p>You may think of this time as the St. Martin's Summer of Mrs.
+Yellam's life. The dull November days drifted by, bringing with them
+mist and rain and wind; the trees were stripped of their leaves; Nature
+sang her requiem for the dying year; but Pentecostal joys filled Mrs.
+Yellam's heart.</p>
+
+<p>And this Feast of Rejoicing affected Fancy and her child. The Yellam
+cottage became a heat-centre. From it radiated warming beams. Susan, at
+work in her kitchen, could hear Fancy's clear voice singing "Abide with
+Me."</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+  <span class="i0">Hold Thou Thy Cross before my closing eyes;</span>
+  <span class="i0">Shine through the gloom, and point me to the
+    skies:</span>
+  <span class="i0">Heaven's morning breaks, and earth'svain shadows
+   flee;</span>
+  <span class="i0">In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me!</span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="p5">If it were only so, reflected Mrs. Yellam, how rich and
+happy life would be, with all its ups and downs. She remained
+obstinately convinced that she wanted the Lord to abide with her. It was
+He Who left her so mysteriously. And then, of course, Satan took the
+vacant place. She examined herself rigorously. She dealt justly with her
+neighbours; she loved mercy; she read her Bible each day. What more
+could she do? Really and truly, she demanded so little of
+Omnipotence&mdash;not wealth, not even health, for, at her age, she must
+expect aches and pains; just peace, only that, and Alfred.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch17"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h3>
+
+<h4>FOOL-WISDOM</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Fancy's approaching confinement aroused no apprehensions
+in the mind of Mrs. Yellam. She took it for granted that nothing
+untoward would happen. Probably, the doctor in attendance would make
+things appear more serious than they were. Deep down in her heart lay
+the conviction that doctors, in their own interests, pursed up lips and
+bent frowning brows over sick-beds, because when their patients pulled
+through the greater credit attached itself to them. Her own confinements
+had been reasonably easy, so she told Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>Both women wondered whether Alfred would get his Christmas leave and
+his Christmas present at the same time. That double event, however, lay
+upon the knees of the gods.</p>
+
+<p>Leave or no leave, Mrs. Yellam told herself that Alfred was safe till
+the Spring. Why this conviction came to her she did not explain. Had you
+asked her, she would have replied, probably, that the wounded boys at
+the Court affirmed nothing to be doing in mid-winter. The sight of
+William Saint in khaki nearly made her break into song. The banns of his
+approaching marriage to the young person behind the bar were called in
+Nether-Applewhite Church, none too soon, according to Jane Mucklow.
+Uncle was heard to whisper, "And sarve 'un right!" by neighbours in
+adjoining pews. He assured his cronies that Mr. Sinner's punishment was
+to come. Susan rejoiced, also, in the notable fact that
+Nether-Applewhite harboured no conscientious objectors. Ocknell, the
+next parish, was not so fortunate.</p>
+
+<p>In fine, the first half of December glided by swiftly and pleasantly.
+Alfred's business became firmly re-established, and, with Saint no
+longer competing, more remunerative than ever. Mrs. Yellam said to
+Fancy:</p>
+
+<p>"Your child, seemin'ly, may be rich."</p>
+
+<p>She refused to speak of the child as a son. But Fancy's conviction
+about that remained impregnable.</p>
+
+<p>"I ought to know, Mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe. But you don't. Nobody knows."</p>
+
+<p>"Alfred wants him to be a girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Do he? I wonders why."</p>
+
+<p>"He said a little maid would traipse so nicely after you. I promised
+him to call her Lizzie. She'll be the next."</p>
+
+<p>"Lizzie! Ah-h-h! Alferd be a good son. Fancy his thinkin' o' that.
+Lizzie<span style="white-space:nowrap;">&mdash;&mdash;</span>!"</p>
+
+<p>She spoke the name almost under her breath. A moment later, she
+removed her spectacles, and wiped them. The two women were sitting in
+the kitchen by the hearth, after supper. A basket held the logs. The
+cradle was upstairs in Mrs. Yellam's room. In that room, despite Fancy's
+protests, Alfred's child would be born. In that room Susan Yellam's
+first baby had wailed his regret at finding himself in a wicked world.
+In that room her husband had died. Everything lay ready to hand; the
+monthly nurse lived only a quarter of a mile away; the doctor had been
+advised that he might be wanted at any minute.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy loved to sit over the fire, listening to the wind talking to
+the chimney, telling that stay-at-home the tale of many wanderings. She
+liked to make-believe that the winds were real persons, although she had
+never heard of Æolus and his rebellious prisoners. She hated to pick
+flowers because they must feel so unhappy out of their own garden. Of
+course, they died of loneliness in mid-Victorian vases. She held
+inviolate her faith in fairies, beneficent and malevolent. She assured
+Mrs. Yellam that Solomon could see pixies dancing in their rings. How
+else could you account for his stopping in the middle of a field and
+barking?</p>
+
+<p>Of her mother and the four Evangelists she said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle and she became great friends.</p>
+
+<p>Three days out of the week (as has been mentioned), from October to
+the end of January, Uncle served as "beater" to Captain Davenant, when
+that veteran went shooting in the New Forest. Returning home, about
+five, Uncle liked to wander into Mrs. Yellam's cottage and drink a cup
+of tea instead of marching up to the <i>Pomfret Arms</i>, where his
+supremacy as a talker and man of the world might be disputed by certain
+bagmen in that inn, which prided itself upon being "more class" than the
+<i>Sir John Barleycorn</i>. Fancy paid homage to Uncle, as the favourite
+brother of Mrs. Yellam, ministering to his love of creature comforts,
+making hot buttered toast and putting cream into his tea, which he never
+got at home. Whenever Jane happened to be "miffed" her husband
+tactically retreated to what he now termed "Fancy's rest camp." He found
+her alone there, because Mrs. Yellam was now on duty at Pomfret Court
+from two till seven. Fancy and Uncle would sit by the fire and talk.</p>
+
+<p>Between Uncle's house and the Yellam cottage stood a clump of firs,
+near the river. Each year, during the annual migration, ospreys,
+probably southward bound from Scotland, would roost for one night only
+in these firs. Uncle had watched them many a time. They would circle
+three times round the firs and then alight upon them. Always the young
+birds, that year's nestlings, would come first. The parent birds
+followed, perhaps two days later. The sense of direction, the triple
+circling round the same trees, on the part of young birds, who preceded
+their parents, filled Fancy with astonishment. Being urban, she
+delighted in Uncle's Arcadian lore. She asked him to explain this
+amazing performance.</p>
+
+<p>"Birds be wiser than we, my girl."</p>
+
+<p>Alfred had made the same remark about water-rats.</p>
+
+<p>"How do they find their way, Uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! How does a young hound find his way back to kennels, when he
+be taken to a distant meet by train, to new country never seen afore?
+You answer me that."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't. Can you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thinks I can. 'Tis fool-wisdom. Wimmenfolk has it, because they be
+nearer to the animals than we men."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy wondered whether this was to be taken as a compliment. Uncle
+continued:</p>
+
+<p>"Fool-wisdom comes from God A'mighty. We be told that He don't forget
+one sparrer. I never liked sparrers too well, because they interferes
+crool wi' the house-martins, pore lil' dears. Yas&mdash;God A'mighty
+guides they young ospreys. I've a notion that He'd guide us if so be as
+we weren't so set on guiding ourselves. That be the main trouble wi' my
+dear sister."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy opened her eyes wide.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you saying, Uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"I be fool-wise, my girl. I sees that you be mazed. Fool-wisdom be
+what we read on in the Holy Book, the sart that God A'mighty gives to
+babes and sucklings. My dear sister be full o' man's wisdom, just so
+clever as a man can be. She takes credit to herself for every big onion
+in her garden."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy said slily:</p>
+
+<p>"But, Uncle, you took credit for George getting the Victoria
+Cross."</p>
+
+<p>"So I did. A sharp 'un you be, for sartain. 'Tis true. Where would
+pore Garge be if I hadn't begotten 'un? And 'twas my brave will as sent
+'un to Salisbury to enlist. But I gives the Lard the credit for pickin'
+such a man as I be for Garge's father. And Garge's valorous deed was a
+marvellous miracle upsides wi' they young ospreys findin' their way to
+our clump o' firs."</p>
+
+<p>"You ought to be a preacher, Uncle."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! 'Tis easy for me to preach, allers was; but practisin' be
+the devil. Me and Pa'son be o' the same mind about that. But how I be
+wanderin' from my text! We was talkin' of fool-wisdom and your dear
+mother-in-law."</p>
+
+<p>"She's my mother now."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay. And I bain't fit to black her boots when it comes to practisin'.
+I knows that. But she ain't got fool-wisdom, as I calls it."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy considered this attentively. Uncle puffed at his pipe, glancing
+at Fancy's pensive face. He saw that he had puzzled her, and pulled
+himself together for another effort.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis like this. Susan be proud because she thinks as she walks wi'
+God A'mighty. She takes credit for that, pore soul! Now, I be proud and
+so humble as a bee when the Lard sees fit to walk wi' me. That be my
+fool-wisdom, Fancy."</p>
+
+<p>"I see."</p>
+
+<p>And she did. Uncle's naïve remarks were illuminating. She could look
+back, by the light of fool-wisdom, and sort out innumerable,
+half-forgotten trifles, unconsidered at the time, which corroborated,
+almost disconcertingly, this&mdash;what could she call it?
+Yes&mdash;vaingloriousness on the part of Mrs. Yellam. Another word, in
+every-day use amongst the "boys," bustled into her mind&mdash;"swank."
+She smiled. It seemed a wicked word to apply to such a majestic woman,
+and yet it was just right. Mrs. Yellam did "swank" whenever she talked
+of herself or Alfred. She had won first prize for the best village
+garden at the annual Flower Show, discontinued since the outbreak of
+war, because, so she told Fancy, she tended her vegetables herself.
+Alfred's robust health, his sobriety, his capacity for steady work, his
+churchgoing, his pleasant manners with neighbours&mdash;all these were
+feathers in Mrs. Yellam's cap, placed there by herself! She was set on
+guiding herself and others, admittedly a leader. Uncle was right. His
+dear sister did not walk humbly with the Lord. Hamlin's sermon had not
+been forgotten by Fancy. His son's death had made it an imperishable
+memory. And Mrs. Yellam, it will be recalled, had shrewdly suspected
+that the Parson had aimed a shaft or two at her. Had he? Could it be
+possible that this wonderful old woman's soul was lean? Naturally Fancy
+shrank from such a conclusion.</p>
+
+<p>To lighten her mind, and with the intention of extracting more
+fool-wisdom from Uncle, she said mischievously:</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle&mdash;&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yas, my dear&mdash;&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"What takes a man to the <ins title="not hyphenated in the
+original">ale-house</ins>? Fool-wisdom?"</p>
+
+<p>Uncle threw back his handsome head and roared with laughter. But
+fool-wisdom told him that this was the right way to tackle a backslider.
+What a pity that Jane disdained indirect methods! He shook a long
+forefinger in a smiling face.</p>
+
+<p>"You lil' besom&mdash;&mdash;! Now, if Alferd ever takes a notion to
+drink more ale than be strictly needful to slake a pleasant thirst, you
+poke just such fun at 'un, and smile at 'un, as you be smilin' at an old
+sinner this minute. My wife be a good, faithful 'ooman, but vartue wi'
+her be turned sourish, like that there clarety wine, the only liquor as
+never did lie easy on my good stomach. Maybe I married her latish in
+life. And cooks, from stewin' over fire, do seem to overbake their
+livers and lights. Anyways, hard looks drive a man to <ins title="not
+hyphenated in the original">ale-house</ins>; smiles keep 'un at home. I
+admits to you, Fancy, but never a word to Jane, mind 'ee, that ale be my
+weakness. 'Twould be blasphemious to say that the Lard ever walked wi'
+me <i>to</i> an ale-house, except on one very notable occasion, but 'tis
+a fact that in His Marcy He have walked wi' me <i>from</i> the <i>Sir
+John Barleycorn</i>. And now you has it."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me about the notable exception."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! You knows. The Lard walked wi' me when I downscrambled
+Willum Saint. I gives He the credit. He put the notion into my head o'
+flingin' Willum's ale into Willum's face, and bashin' 'un wi' his own
+tankard. I tell 'ee that notion come to me bang from Kingdom Come. My
+own notion was different. I calkilated on a stand-up fight. Willum might
+ha' downed me, being so young and strong a man. And I tells 'ee more, a
+lil' secret, seein' as you has the trick o' squeezin' secrets out o'
+sinners: the Lard walks wi' me when I comes here to see you. And I be
+drinkin' less ale in consekence."</p>
+
+<p>With that he kissed Fancy and took his leave.</p>
+
+<p>Solomon jumped into the warm, cushioned arm-chair. But, instead of
+curling himself up, he walked three times round the chair, and then sat
+up, with his head on one side glancing interrogatively at Fancy, as much
+as to say:</p>
+
+<p>"If you want fool-wisdom, why not tap it at its source?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy eyed him reflectively. All day, the dog had behaved strangely.
+He never left Fancy for a moment. But, till now, he had seemed
+disinclined for conversation. And he had hardly touched his dinner.
+Again and again he had walked round the kitchen, whining a little.
+Fancy, supposing that he wished to go outside, had opened the door, but
+he remained with her, staring up at her, as if he had some message to
+deliver. Finally, she jumped to the conclusion that the dog must be
+feeling unwell, or, possibly, cats lay heavy on his conscience.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Solomon?"</p>
+
+<p>He whined.</p>
+
+<p>"Got a pain, Solly?"</p>
+
+<p>He regarded her sorrowfully. Till that moment Fancy had been happy
+and light-hearted. Uncle had cheered her up. And his parting remark was
+uplifting and unmistakable. God had seen fit to use her, Fancy Yellam,
+as a humble instrument whereby Uncle's thirst for ale became less
+importunate. A warm glow suffused her small body.</p>
+
+<p>And now, suddenly, she felt chilled, uneasy, unhappy, merely because
+a dog gazed mournfully at her, as if he, the wicked little sinner, were
+grieving for her. Did he know that pain was coming to her inexorably? As
+the thought assailed her mind, so swiftly that she winced, Solomon's
+tail flickered. Not in joyousness. She divined that. In some uncanny
+fashion he was encouraging her to accept this thought of pain, to
+confront it valiantly, not to shrink from it.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know, Sol?" she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>His tail flickered again. He leaped into her lap, and laid his head
+upon her bosom. She could feel his heart beating; her own heart beat
+with it.</p>
+
+<p>Was this another amazing proof of fool-wisdom?</p>
+
+<p>Peace came back to her. Humbly, she committed herself to the keeping
+of Omnipotence, thinking intently of her mother. Solomon never moved.
+She was intimately sensible that this dumb creature comforted her. She
+glanced into the shadows of the kitchen. Had her mother's face and
+figure formed themselves out of those shadows, she would not have been
+surprised or frightened. She expected to see her. The conviction stole
+slowly upon her that the mother stood near her, invisible, but a
+powerful protector. And from her would radiate hope and faith and love.
+She would be with her in her travailings....</p>
+
+<p>Presently, another thought stole upon her. As Mrs. Yellam said, Fancy
+had never seen her mother in the flesh. It seemed so cruel that she
+should have been taken at a moment when tiny lips were wailing for what
+she alone could give. From a child she had wanted her mother. To-night,
+for the first time, it flashed into her mind that, perhaps, her mother
+had wanted her&mdash;desperately. Just as she wanted her child. How
+bitter a disappointment it must be to forego the tender ministrations,
+the sweet services which only women know, and which, in their
+fool-wisdom, they count dearer than anything the world can bestow.</p>
+
+<p>If&mdash;if anything went wrong, she would join her mother....</p>
+
+<p>Solomon lay motionless, but his heart went on throbbing.</p>
+
+<p>Why?</p>
+
+<p>A last thought, the greatest, seemed to float direct from her
+mother's mind to hers. Alfred was facing death, daily, with a laugh,
+facing, too, the possibility of grinding pain. As a soldier's wife, she
+must try to be brave, like him....</p>
+
+<p>Solomon moved restlessly, and then sprang to the floor. He wagged his
+tail briskly, as he took up a commanding position near the door. Mrs.
+Yellam was approaching the cottage. If Fancy opened the door and looked
+out, she would not see her because it was dark. But she would not hear
+her, either. And if she called, Mrs. Yellam would not answer, being, as
+yet, too far away.</p>
+
+<p>But Solomon knew.</p>
+
+<p>Within five minutes, Susan Yellam entered, bringing with her an
+exhilarating atmosphere of keen, fresh air. Her cheeks were red; her
+eyes sparkled.</p>
+
+<p>"Frost be coming, and maybe snow. I likes to see God A'mighty's world
+white and clean come Christmastide."</p>
+
+<p>The old woman bustled about cheerfully, commanding Fancy to sit
+still. She had brought with her a fat hen-pheasant, a gift from the
+Squire to Alfred's wife.</p>
+
+<p>"Folks are very kind," said Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, well, 'tis easy to be kind when we be happy. Captain Pomfret
+walked wi' one crutch to-day. And they be drinking champagne for dinner.
+'Tis the work o' that Lunnon doctor, so they say, a very wonnerful chap
+wi' electrics, bridlin' the lightnin', so to speak. And they perfarms
+miracles wi' men's faces, manufacturin' noses and what-not just so easy
+as pats o' butter. Such fellers must be proud o' theirselves."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe Mr. Hamlin'll return thanks in church, next Sunday."</p>
+
+<p>"More'n likely. I never thought o' that."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder," said Fancy, "how it all comes to them, inventions, such
+as wireless and&mdash;and chloroform as takes away pain."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam chided her, very pleasantly:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, don't 'ee flustrate yourself wi' thoughts o' chloryform. I
+allows that I can answer your question. Inventions comes to they as
+works hard for 'un. 'Tis hard work, and nothing else."</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle would call it&mdash;fool-wisdom."</p>
+
+<p>"Fool-wisdom?"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy explained. Mrs. Yellam listened attentively, shaking her head
+from time to time. Uncle's position, to-day, would be as financially
+sound as her own, had he worked hard at his calling, and spent less time
+on crack-brained speculations and less good money on ale. She said as
+much, derisively. Fancy said:</p>
+
+<p>"How does Solly know when you turn the corner by the mill?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dog's instinct."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe 'tis the same thing."</p>
+
+<p>"Fiddle!"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy refrained from pressing the point, but something told her that
+Uncle was right, and his clever, practical sister wrong. One thing was
+delightfully certain. Happiness had made Mrs. Yellam kind. And it filled
+her with piety. She walked proudly with the Lord, carrying a high head.
+She had forgiven William Saint his trespasses, and expressed a trenchant
+conviction that Satan had removed his headquarters from
+Nether-Applewhite to Ocknell. And she was equally sure that Alfred would
+be home for Christmas, because her troubles had come in battalions at
+midsummer.</p>
+
+<p>"Turn and turn about be only fair," she told Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy said hesitatingly:</p>
+
+<p>"The cards told true before, didn't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! I don't pin my faith to they, child. I be weather-wise, not
+fool-wise. We has spells o' wet and spells o' dry. It be dry now, and
+likely to remain so, I reckons."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy nodded, quite willing to believe that the Yellam barometer
+would stay, for a long spell, at "Set Fair."</p>
+
+<p>After supper, when the kitchen was in perfect order, Mrs. Yellam sat
+knitting beside Fancy. Solomon lay at the feet of his mistress. The logs
+burned briskly, another evidence of coming frost. Sparks burst out of
+them, dazzling scintillations, miniature fireworks. Mrs. Yellam was
+impressed by this pyrotechnic display.</p>
+
+<p>"It minds me of when Master Lionel come of age. I hopes they logs'll
+burn like that when Alferd is sittin' here, wi' a baby on his knee."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam appeared so satisfied with life in general that Fancy
+hesitated to disturb the peace, but impulse was too strong for her.</p>
+
+<p>"Solly acted very queer all day."</p>
+
+<p>"Did he now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hardly touched his nice dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, times he takes a notion to scrummage in dustheaps, the
+lil' scavenger! 'Tis the male in him, I reckons. And far-seein'. He do
+take a squint into the future, seemin'ly."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy stared at Mrs. Yellam, slightly startled.</p>
+
+<p>"He buries bones and beastliness all over my garden. I caught 'un wi'
+a cod's head, and cuffed his, I did."</p>
+
+<p>"I took the notion that he was worrying about&mdash;about me."</p>
+
+<p>"Did 'ee, now? Natural enough. You bide so ca'm as I be. Worry brings
+peevish children into this world. You sing a hymn, if you think it'll
+hearten you up. 'Onward, Christian Soldiers,' be my fav'rite."</p>
+
+<p>"I do love 'Abide with Me.'"</p>
+
+<p>"You sing what you've a mind to. You be near your time, and must
+please yourself. Singin' helped me, but it druv my pore man to the
+ale-house. So I quit hymns, for his sake."</p>
+
+<p>"Was Mr. Yellam with you when your first baby was born?"</p>
+
+<p>"My, no! What a queer lil' thing you be! He was carrier, wi' business
+to attend to. Men bain't wanted at such times."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to have Alfred."</p>
+
+<p>"No, you wouldn't. Take that from me. I've a mind to give 'ee a sip
+o' currant wine."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy declined this, with many thanks. The talk became desultory, and
+died down. Fancy dozed off quietly. Mrs. Yellam laid down her knitting
+and gazed keenly at the pale face bent upon the thin bosom.
+<i>Spindlin'!</i> Her own word came back to her. She saw that a faint
+smile curved the girl's lips. Evidently she was dreaming happily. Of
+what? Solomon rose, stretched himself, and stood beside his mistress. He
+whined a little. Mrs. Yellam recalled what Fancy had said about his
+"acting queer."</p>
+
+<p>"She bain't too strong," she muttered.</p>
+
+<p>Solomon whined again and lay down.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam's face hardened. The same thought that had assailed Fancy
+attacked her, burying fangs in her heart.</p>
+
+<p>If things went wrong&mdash;&mdash;?</p>
+
+<p>Resolutely, she put this thought from her. God's ways might be
+mysterious, but surely, surely He would stand by this frail creature,
+and temper the wind to her. Even to ask Him to do so seemed impertinent.
+Prayer came to her lips and fluttered away. She closed them tightly. All
+would go well, because of those four graves in the churchyard. She had
+visited them on the previous Sunday. They were certainly a credit to
+her. She washed the marble cross upon Lizzie's grave twice a year, and
+planted flowers on each plot. Coming out of church, strangers would
+pause to look at the Yellam reservation. If they read the
+carefully-selected inscriptions, Mrs. Yellam would feel much uplifted.
+In her square, brass-cornered desk, lay a sealed paper containing
+instructions concerning her own funeral. A plain slab would tell other
+strangers the date of her birth and death, her name, and her
+destination. "Gone Home" was to be chiselled upon grey granite, and
+filled in with leaded letters. Death had never dismayed her. When her
+work was done, she would be called.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy woke up, still smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"You had a nice doze, dear. Pleasant dreams, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Fancy. But she couldn't remember her dreams.</p>
+
+<p>As she got out of her chair to go upstairs, she said:</p>
+
+<p>"This has been a happy day, Mother. I must remember it. What is the
+day of the month?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam answered promptly:</p>
+
+<p>"It be the fifteenth of December. Only ten days to Christmas."</p>
+
+<p class="p5">Mrs. Yellam never forgot this date. Word came to her some
+days later. On the fifteenth of December, a night attack was made upon
+German trenches, an affair of small importance, not even mentioned in
+the papers. When the men returned to their dug-outs, Sergeant Yellam was
+reported&mdash;<i>Missing</i>.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h3>
+
+<h4>MISSING!</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Everybody assured Mrs. Yellam that Alfred had been taken
+prisoner. Uncle was doubtful whether any nephew of his could be taken
+prisoner, but he did not say this before his sister. The Squire, good
+fellow, spent time and money over telegrams to the Colonel commanding
+Alfred's battalion. And the answer confirmed popular opinion that
+Alfred, by now, was in Germany, where prisoners of war&mdash;so Sir
+Geoffrey assured Mrs. Yellam, received more humane treatment. The dead
+and wounded, after the night attack, had been brought in. Alfred was not
+amongst them. And therefore a prisoner. His Colonel, without a word from
+Sir Geoffrey, expressed that as his positive belief.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy, very white and anxious, hugged such belief to her small bosom.
+She said to Mrs. Yellam:</p>
+
+<p>"Alfred will come back."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam kissed her, muttering:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes. You be a brave lil' 'ooman."</p>
+
+<p>But Susan Yellam was dissembling. Iron had entered her soul again,
+iron and ice. To Uncle and Solomon she admitted this.</p>
+
+<p>"He be dead, Habakkuk. I knows it. They Proosians 'd never take
+Alferd alive. He be dead, and so be I."</p>
+
+<p>Poor Uncle fell back upon fool-wisdom.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Susan, in these high matters, the truth be revealed to simple
+minds, like Fancy's. Me and you, dear, be too clever. I've often thought
+that gert brains, like yours, be a crool burden in such times as these.
+You be too far-seein'. Fancy be wise as a bird. If she sticks to it as
+Alferd be comin' back, come back he will, whatever you thinks."</p>
+
+<p>But Mrs. Yellam refused to be comforted.</p>
+
+<p>Next Sunday her pew was empty. Many charitably assigned this to
+Fancy's condition. Hamlin and Uncle knew better. And they took counsel
+together.</p>
+
+<p>"Can anything be said or done, Uncle?" asked the Parson.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle answered wisely:</p>
+
+<p>"She be past man's help, sir. Me and you has seen this a-comin' from
+afar. The pore soul can guide herself so well as any 'ooman I knows, but
+she do hate to be guided. Allers, she walked wi' the Lard in health, but
+not in sickness. 'Tis wondersome, but it works t'other way about wi' me.
+In health I seems to wander from the Lard, do what I will."</p>
+
+<p>"I tried once before&mdash;and failed."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! You be a faithful shepherd, Mr. Hamlin; we all knows that.
+If you ask my advice, sir&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I do. I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Leave her in the Lard's Hands. None can deny that she be a faithful
+servant o' His. He'll take pity on the pore dear in His good time."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin seldom asked for advice from his fellow-men. He nodded his
+head, shook Uncle's horny hand, and went back to his study.</p>
+
+<p>The great sacrifice demanded of him had strained his faith. Nobody
+would ever know that. For a few hours he had sat alone, stunned by
+sorrow. He told himself fiercely that he could have spared any one of
+his sons except Teddy. The worldly ambitions which this man had
+renounced for himself bloomed more vigorously for Teddy. He had all the
+qualities which carry a young man far on any road: robust health,
+excellent brains, untiring energy, and a kind heart. His jolly laugh, as
+Hamlin knew, had secured him advancement, quite apart from his ability.
+Others had ability. The happy combination of laughter and energy had
+fetched four hundred a year in the open market. And Hamlin knew, none
+better, what such men are worth to the world, what a stimulus a cheery
+word and smile may be to the weary and sad. Why had Teddy been
+taken?</p>
+
+<p>Ultimately, he answered that question.</p>
+
+<p>He must be wanted elsewhere. Hamlin held definite opinions about a
+future life. He believed that death involved little change. He believed,
+further, that the conflict between good and evil went on upon the Other
+Side, that souls expanded or diminished over there just as here. Upon
+that belief he had built up his philosophy of life. It explained and
+justified apparent injustices and inequalities very perplexing to him as
+a young man. He believed, also, that good or evil inspired all human
+endeavour. The clay was informed by the spirit. Great writers,
+influencing millions, were merely the mouthpiece, the megaphone, of
+invisible spirits, guardian angels, to use the homely nursery
+expression, who whispered their message to the vessel appointed to
+receive it. Nobody, for many years, had heard him praise
+enthusiastically an individual. He praised the work that each had been
+inspired to do. In Nether-Applewhite, there happened to be a village
+idiot, whose great lolling head and vacuous eyes excited terror in
+children and often revulsion in adults. And the man was past middle age,
+helpless and gibbering from birth. Hamlin never passed him without
+reflecting that death would release an imprisoned soul destined,
+perhaps, to an undreamed-of development hereafter, the greater because
+it had been denied expression on earth. And, inversely, when he met, as
+he did occasionally, men pre-eminent in science, or art, or industry, he
+seemed to see clearly the man standing sharply apart from his work,
+often a very ordinary person, undistinguished save for the amazing fact
+that he had been selected, out of millions, to accomplish something
+vital to the progress of the world.</p>
+
+<p>He had found Authority for this personal belief in the New
+Testament.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin sat still by his fire and thought of Mrs. Yellam. He desired
+to help her with an intensity which few would have suspected. Her empty
+pew, as before, stood out in his mind as a vacuum which he abhorred. Not
+because he was a parson. Churchgoing, in one sense, the sense in which
+William Saint regarded it, touched his humour. To go to church because
+it was respectable and pleased the Squire, to mumble prayers, to
+preserve a smug deportment, and rattle coins into an offertory plate,
+approximated closely to comic opera! Mrs. Yellam attended church to
+worship her Maker. Her abstention from Divine Service indicated loss of
+faith, the most grievous loss that can be imposed upon human beings.
+Faith filled Mrs. Yellam's pew; faithlessness emptied it. And if she,
+the strong woman, the helper in so many good works, stayed away from
+God's House, what would be the effect on the faith of others who looked
+up to her as a pattern and example?</p>
+
+<p>His fighting instincts were strongly stirred. But Uncle was right.
+For the moment, Susan Yellam stood alone, beyond man's help.</p>
+
+<p>He went to see her as a friend. As before, she received him with
+perfect self-possession, answered his questions quietly, and assured him
+that her own health caused her no anxiety. Hamlin thought of a chapel
+standing by itself upon a high hill near Abbotsbury, in perfect
+condition without, stripped within, an empty and deserted temple.
+Presently Fancy came in, and Mrs. Yellam went out. After the first
+greeting, Fancy exclaimed eagerly:</p>
+
+<p>"I know that Alfred will come back. I feel it here."</p>
+
+<p>She touched her bosom.</p>
+
+<p>He perceived, with poignant regret, the ravages wrought by suspense.
+But this, he soon discovered, was not due to apprehension concerning
+herself. She was worrying because Alfred would not get enough to eat.
+She talked confidently of his escape from bondage. Alfred was a man of
+resource, quick to seize opportunity. Dozens had got through to Holland.
+Why not he?</p>
+
+<p>Then she spoke of the war. What did it all mean, this never-ending
+slaughter? Was God angry with the world?</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin felt more at ease with this softer specimen of womanhood, who
+had served him faithfully. He admitted frankly, despite the evidence of
+the Old Testament, that he could not conceive of Omnipotence as "angry."
+Then he appealed to her imagination, evoking out of his own hopes and
+hypotheses a new world of nations, linked together by a nobler and wider
+humanity, poorer in material things, richer in faith and charity. He
+sketched for her prehistoric man concerned only with self-preservation.
+He passed from this ape-man to his successor informed by love of his own
+family. From him again to the chief concerned with the welfare of his
+tribe. And thence to the monarch and his nation.</p>
+
+<p>"We must come, sooner or later, to Universal Brotherhood. That, I
+think, Fancy, may come sooner because of this war. The gain to those who
+are not yet born may be ten thousand times greater than our loss."</p>
+
+<p>Her pale cheeks flushed.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to think that." She paused, adding modestly: "Although my
+thoughts don't matter."</p>
+
+<p>"But they do," he hastened to say. "This war is forcing people to
+think, who have never thought before. Perhaps we preachers and teachers
+have been unwise in asking others to accept our thoughts, instead of
+encouraging them to think for themselves. Don't be afraid of thinking
+things out. And when it comes to matters of religion, of faith...."</p>
+
+<p>He paused, trying to find simple words, struck by the intensity of
+her glance, knowing that what he might say would be pondered over by a
+quick intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir&mdash;&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"There would seem to be two kinds of faith, Fancy; the faith that
+falls like the dew from heaven upon some little children, a free gift
+from God; and the faith which we have to work for, and suffer for, and
+fight for with every fibre of our being. I have had to work for my
+faith; I have had to dig down and down till I came at last to some rock
+upon which I could stand. I could hardly bear the cruelty of these
+times, if I had not found that rock."</p>
+
+<p>"What is that rock, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"A conviction that this life is only a part, a small part of a
+tremendous whole which our finite minds are unable to grasp. That
+conviction comes from experience. It is independent of what is called
+revealed religion, although it has been revealed by all religions,
+inasmuch as it must come from within to be of any real value and
+comfort. It must be worked for, as I say, and paid for. The reward, when
+that rock is reached, is very great."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"The peace that passes understanding. And now, Fancy, in the trial
+that awaits you, trust in that first faith of which I spoke, the faith
+that I am sure is yours. God knows what is best for us. We all try to
+make Him walk in our ways, instead of walking humbly in His."</p>
+
+<p>She said shyly: "Thank you, sir; you have made things easier for
+me."</p>
+
+<p>It was late when Hamlin left the Yellam cottage and bitterly cold. He
+walked to Pomfret Court, and found the Squire in his room. In that room
+hard words had passed between Squire and Parson. To-day they were
+friends, working together. And the marriage of their children did not
+adequately account for this. It was one of the unexpected results of the
+war.</p>
+
+<p>"Dinner in five-and-twenty minutes," said Sir Geoffrey. "I'm
+delighted to see you, my dear fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could stop. I need your help."</p>
+
+<p>The Squire rang the bell. When the butler came, dinner was postponed
+a quarter of an hour. Another straw to indicate a change in domestic
+currents. Before the war, dinner at Pomfret Court had been regarded as a
+sacred function, never postponed merely because the Parson wanted a word
+with the Squire.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to pull more strings," said Hamlin, after telling his
+story at some length. "You know swells at the Foreign Office. It must be
+possible to find out through some kind neutral at The Hague whether a
+prisoner of the name of Alfred Yellam was taken upon the night of the
+fifteenth. Very few prisoners have been taken lately; that would make
+the enquiry comparatively simple."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll draw that cover to-morrow morning."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin thanked him and hurried away. The Squire was amazing. To
+travel to London in this bitter weather meant the sacrifice of what the
+genial Autocrat ranked high&mdash;comfort. He would go, like a terrier
+to a fox, straight to a Mandarin and bark at him, worry him, stick to
+him, till a pledge was extracted.</p>
+
+<p>He thought of the trains congested by Christmas travel, the lack of
+porters and taxis. Obviously, the Squire recked nothing of this in his
+hot desire to do a kind turn to a humble neighbour.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin reflected that Christmas would be the cosier to the Autocrat
+after a cold excursion. He remembered hearing him say that he never
+appreciated his own fireside so much as after a bad day's hunting, when
+the wind blew chill from the north and hounds wouldn't run a yard.</p>
+
+<p>Thoughts of hunting distracted the Parson as he strode back to his
+lonely Vicarage. What a master passion it was in everybody! The Squire
+hunted foxes in all weathers, regardless of weather conditions. Nothing
+stopped him but a hard frost. His Parson hunted men and women, a more
+arduous chase, hounding them out of covers where dirt, ignorance,
+poverty and vice hid them from view. A hard frost, such as had settled
+on Susan Yellam, stopped him. Others hunted fame, money, position, just
+as ardently. And a hard frost, like this war, stopped them.</p>
+
+<p>When would the thaw set in for Mrs. Yellam?</p>
+
+<p>Upon Christmas Eve Fancy's ordeal began.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin hoped and believed that tiny hands would melt the ice in an
+old woman's heart. Everybody knew that Susan Yellam loved children, and
+that her rather grim face inspired no terrors in them. She kept the
+large green bottle full of bull's-eyes, simply because it lured
+pattering feet to her door. If they trotted up too often, rebukes, not
+bull's-eyes, were forthcoming. A sure way to her favour, as little girls
+soon discovered, was to ask for a flower out of the garden. Farseeing
+women, over-busy on washing-days, popped torn pinafores onto their
+toddlers, knowing that Mrs. Yellam would be sure to take her needle and
+repair the damage. She could always be called upon to sit up with a sick
+child, provided&mdash;<i>bien entendu</i>&mdash;that she was permitted
+to administer her own simple medicines. Grateful mothers, with an eye
+upon further favours, would say to Mrs. Yellam in the presence of
+neighbours:</p>
+
+<p>"Susan Yellam saved my Daisy's life."</p>
+
+<p>And then Mrs. Yellam would nod majestically, accepting such artful
+homage as her just due.</p>
+
+<p>To Mrs. Yellam's great relief, Fancy suffered less than she had
+feared and expected. Nature was kind to this soft-boned little woman,
+and chloroform assuaged the fiercer pangs. But the baby seemed loath to
+enter so cold a world. There were long and exasperating intermittencies,
+which Fancy endured very patiently. Throughout these periods, when Fancy
+wished to talk about Alfred, Mrs. Yellam dissembled. She even went so
+far, in her eagerness to please and distract the patient, that she
+accepted the sex of the tardy infant, speaking of it as "him," to
+Fancy's great gratification.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, "He" was born at two o'clock upon Christmas Day.</p>
+
+<p>And, alack! the cards had not told true. <i>He</i> was a
+<i>She</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy did not know this for some time. Too exhausted to ask
+questions, she lay silent and still, a faint smile upon her white face,
+till she dozed off into a dreamless sleep.</p>
+
+<p>In the parlour downstairs, where a fire had been lighted in the
+doctor's honour, Mrs. Yellam received another blow. There had been no
+complications in the case; the baby was perfectly formed and normal in
+every way. Nevertheless, the doctor looked worried and refused such
+refreshment as had been provided. Obviously, too, he was in a hurry to
+be gone, but he lingered.</p>
+
+<p>"She is very weak," he said, in a low, impressive voice.</p>
+
+<p>"That's natural."</p>
+
+<p>"Keep her as quiet as possible. I shall return about ten. The nurse
+has my instructions. Great lack of vitality is indicated. Needless to
+say, there is no question of her nursing the child. You are a strong,
+sensible woman, Mrs. Yellam, and able to hide any anxiety you may feel
+from the patient."</p>
+
+<p>The poor heart, just beginning to thaw, felt an icy hand closing
+about it.</p>
+
+<p>"I know how to behave," she muttered.</p>
+
+<p>"I must prepare you for a possible change&mdash;not for the
+better."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>She spoke so calmly, that the doctor glanced at her keenly. Was she
+indifferent? It might be so. Relations, as he well knew, were often
+strained between elderly women of strong character and their sons'
+wives. He knew that Alfred had been reported missing. The monthly nurse
+might be regarded as a professional, like himself, willing and able to
+do her duty. More than this might be required. He reflected swiftly that
+he must make the situation even plainer to this somewhat hard-faced,
+hard-eyed woman.</p>
+
+<p>"She might sink from anæmia, Mrs. Yellam."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand, sir."</p>
+
+<p>He slipped on his heavy coat, picked up hat and gloves and turned to
+leave the room. His motor was gently purring outside. Mrs. Yellam prided
+herself upon her manners. But she never moved to open the door, till the
+doctor had his hand upon it.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir&mdash;&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"</p>
+
+<p>She approached him. Her face remained calm, but he saw that her
+strong, capable hands were twitching. Her voice, too, quavered a
+little.</p>
+
+<p>"She be very dear to me, so dear that I be ready to fight for her
+life harder than I would for my own. That's all."</p>
+
+<p>The doctor, ashamed of too hasty conclusions, took both her hands in
+his.</p>
+
+<p>"That is much," he said gravely; "and it may make all the difference.
+Good-night, Mrs. Yellam."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-morning, sir," she admonished him.</p>
+
+<p>Left alone, she sat down, palsied by despair.</p>
+
+<p>And this was Christmas Day!</p>
+
+<p>Upon the table, near the window, the big Bible caught her eye. She
+stared at it, thinking of the page upon which, soon, she might be called
+upon to make three entries&mdash;two deaths and one birth. Heavy
+antimacassars embellished the horsehair-covered sofa and the armchairs.
+Mrs. Yellam rose up, snatched three antimacassars from their
+abiding-place and covered the Bible with them. Then she sat down again,
+looking about her, glaring at the familiar objects, so eloquent of the
+past. Upon each side of a large mirror, with its gilt frame protected by
+muslin from flies that had never dared to enter the room, hung two
+enlarged photographs of herself and her husband, taken some
+five-and-twenty years ago. They seemed to stare unblushingly and
+aggressively at her, as if they were rude strangers overbrimming with
+self-importance, smug with prosperity.</p>
+
+<p>"Fools," said Mrs. Yellam, scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at the other photographs, each in turn, portraits of the
+children who lay in the churchyard.</p>
+
+<p>"You be the lucky ones," she said, in the same derisive tone.</p>
+
+<p>There were many photographs of Alfred in all stages of development:
+Alfred sucking his thumb with an expression upon his year-old
+countenance as if he were thinking regretfully of something more
+nourishing; Alfred in a much be-ribanded frock; Alfred in
+knickerbockers; Alfred in a kilt; Alfred in trowsers, evidently on good
+terms with himself and all the world; Alfred as he appeared in his
+Sunday best, about to take the air with an audacious parlourmaid; and,
+lastly, Alfred in khaki and Fancy, arm in crook.</p>
+
+<p>She glanced hastily at other photographs, of Sir Geoffrey and Lady
+Pomfret and Master Lionel. They smiled so pleasantly that she frowned.
+How dared they smile?</p>
+
+<p>She was not needed yet upstairs. So she sat on in the gate of her
+sorrows, alone in the valley of Achor.</p>
+
+<p>She heard Solomon scratching at the door. She had left him asleep in
+his basket, always placed each night by the kitchen hearth. Mrs. Yellam
+let the dog scratch, but when he began whining she let him in, because
+Fancy might be disturbed, not because she wanted her dog.</p>
+
+<p>Solomon looked at her, and knew.</p>
+
+<p>He governed himself accordingly. Mrs. Yellam had returned to her
+chair. Solomon lay down at her feet. When she wanted to talk to him, she
+would do so. He kept one ear cocked for the first word.</p>
+
+<p>During twenty minutes no word was said. The nurse was in charge of
+Fancy and the baby. Mrs. Yellam had looked forward to assisting at these
+first rites. The expected pleasure had turned into a grinding pain.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy was going, drifting out of life. Probably her baby would not
+survive her many days. But she, the old woman, would remain. She gazed
+down the long perspective of the years to come, cold, dull days without
+one gleam of sunshine, full of inevitable pain.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't bear it," she said aloud. "It be too much for me."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon heard. He knew, of course, that the long-awaited words were
+not addressed to him, but they sounded a clarion note of distress.</p>
+
+<p>He laid his head against her knee.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him, meeting his clear young eyes. They seemed to be
+full of interrogation.</p>
+
+<p>"If you want to talk, why not talk to me instead of to yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>She patted his head, and let her hand rest upon it. According to
+Uncle, fool-wisdom in dogs warned them of impending disaster. Mrs.
+Yellam knew that Solomon had behaved strangely upon the fifteenth of
+December. Uncle had drawn conclusions from this which he shared with
+Fancy and his sister. If fool-wisdom on the part of dogs could be
+interpreted by man, and he held that he was the man to do it, why, then,
+the fact of Solomon acting "queer" during the day of the fifteenth
+surely indicated fore-knowledge of Alfred's danger. But the attack had
+taken place at night. And the dog had exhibited no "queerness" after
+sundown. Fancy had been much impressed. In his heart, however, Uncle
+could not envisage Alfred as a prisoner. And we know that Mrs. Yellam
+shared this view. At the same time, with her loss of faith in the mercy
+of Omnipotence, and filling the vacuum which Hamlin so abhorred, came
+the old craving to clutch at "signs." It is quite likely that if the
+cards had "told true," and if a boy were now lying in the cradle
+upstairs, that Mrs. Yellam would have fought despair more valiantly. She
+might have persuaded herself that Fancy would "pull through" and that
+Alfred would come back.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment she was at a low ebb mentally, although physically
+able to confront any emergency. Despair destroys <i>morale</i>, as
+soldiers know, and, paralysing action, heightens sensation. Mrs.
+Yellam's overwrought brain refused to function normally.</p>
+
+<p>Solomon, she reflected, was not acting "queer."</p>
+
+<p>If Uncle were right&mdash;&mdash;! If fool-wisdom could be
+trusted&mdash;&mdash;!</p>
+
+<p>She asked Solomon a question.</p>
+
+<p>"How be you feeling, my dog?"</p>
+
+<p>Solomon left her tired mind in no doubt on that point. He wagged his
+tail, wriggling convulsively, ready to bark with any encouragement.</p>
+
+<p>"Shush-h-h! Don't 'ee bark, till I gives leave. What do 'ee think
+about Fancy? Be she so bad as Doctor makes out?"</p>
+
+<p>Solomon tried to lick her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"That bain't an answer, Solly."</p>
+
+<p>He wagged his tail.</p>
+
+<p>Astounding as it may seem, this comforted Mrs. Yellam. She went
+upstairs, peeped into her former room, perceived that Fancy was asleep,
+and said to the nurse:</p>
+
+<p>"She be in a be-utiful sleep. Let's see the baby."</p>
+
+<p>The two women looked at the baby, and agreed that it was a fine
+specimen. Mrs. Yellam said impressively:</p>
+
+<p>"Pore dear soul! She thinks it a He. Maybe 'twill be best not to
+undeceive her."</p>
+
+<p>"She'll find out, Mrs. Yellam."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! A crool shock. I allows that it be my duty to prepare
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"She's low," said the nurse, in a professional tone. Mrs. Yellam knew
+that the doctor, before leaving, had given the nurse instructions. The
+nurse, however, made light of apprehension, saying incisively:</p>
+
+<p>"We'll pull her through, Mrs. Yellam. Nothing needed but constant
+care for the first few days. Doctors always scare the gizzards out of us
+because they think that we won't be careful unless they do."</p>
+
+<p>This was comforting. After more talk, Mrs. Yellam prevailed upon the
+nurse to lie down. She proposed to sit by Fancy. The baby could be
+trusted to be quiet, being a She, and, seemingly, blessed with a
+pleasant temper.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy still slept.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam took the chair by the bedside. If nothing but care and
+vigilance were needed, they should be forthcoming. She vowed to herself
+that she would fight, tooth and nail, for this life, neglect no
+precaution, run no risk. Physically, she braced herself for the combat.
+Long ago, she had fought for the life of a child&mdash;and won! Doctor
+and mother had despaired. It was a case of pneumonia. Hour after hour
+Mrs. Yellam had applied hot cloths to the child's breast. And she had
+willed fiercely that the child should live. Her strong will <i>had</i>
+saved it. Everybody admitted that, even the doctor.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy slept for some hours. She awoke refreshed, free from pain, but
+pitifully feeble. After obediently swallowing some food, she asked to
+see the "boy."</p>
+
+<p>"All in good time," said Mrs. Yellam blandly.</p>
+
+<p>"But I may drop off to sleep again."</p>
+
+<p>"And a very good thing, too. The baby is asleep."</p>
+
+<p>"Has he blue eyes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Baby's eyes be allers blue at first."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he like Alfred?"</p>
+
+<p>"The living image. Now, don't 'ee talk."</p>
+
+<p>"If you bring him to me, I'll be ever so quiet."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll bring the child directly minute. 'Tis a lil' beauty, and a real
+credit to 'ee. Alferd'll be tickled to death. Unbeknownst to yourself,
+dear, you bore him what he wanted, and what I wanted. Now, I'll bring
+her in."</p>
+
+<p>"Her&mdash;&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>Fancy closed her eyes. Mrs. Yellam watched her anxiously. She saw two
+tears trickle down the disappointed mother's cheeks. But she was
+smiling, quick to see the joke against herself.</p>
+
+<p>She gave a little laugh, an attenuated sound, but the genuine
+article.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's see her, Mother."</p>
+
+<p class="p5">The Beauty was brought in.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch19"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h3>
+
+<h4>SUSPENSE</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Sir Geoffrey returned home on Saturday, the 23rd, having
+achieved his purpose. From The Hague, within twenty-four hours, discreet
+enquiries would be made concerning Sergeant Yellam. But the answer might
+be delayed a week.</p>
+
+<p>On Sunday and on Christmas Day Mrs. Yellam's pew was empty, but
+everybody knew that she was in attendance upon Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin preached what Uncle called a "very upliftin'" discourse, and
+Uncle made it his business to drop down to the Yellam cottage during the
+afternoon to learn how Fancy fared and to give his sister a synopsis of
+the morning's sermon. By the luck of things, the nurse had just got up,
+and was able to sit with Fancy, whilst Uncle talked with Susan in the
+kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>"She be low, Habakkuk, but I be fighting for her. Oh, me! there's so
+little of her. And no milk for the baby."</p>
+
+<p>"Lard preserve her dear life!"</p>
+
+<p>Susan frowned.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis milk that be wanted."</p>
+
+<p>"You be right. Bottle-babies suffer crool wi' colic."</p>
+
+<p>"Not if I wash the bottles. Fancy have chosen the names."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! Susan be one of 'em; I'll lay a crown-piece on that."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd lose your money. Lizzie Alfreda be the name."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle considered this, and commended the choice. Then he squared his
+shoulders and inflated his big chest.</p>
+
+<p>"You missed a rare treat this marning, Susan."</p>
+
+<p>"Did I?"</p>
+
+<p>She spoke with indifference. Uncle believed in "gentling" refractory
+horses and women. Conviction had descended upon him during the sermon
+that he might be the Lord's instrument to lead Susan Yellam back to her
+pew.</p>
+
+<p>"Pa'son preached about the Babe of Bethlehem, as was right and
+proper, but I makes bold to say as he was thinking of 'ee, Susan, and of
+Lizzie Alfreda, bless 'un."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam felt strangely bored. But she knew that it was hopeless
+to try to stop Uncle. What did it matter what any parson said? She was
+wondering whether she could apply for milk to Mr. Fishpingle, at the
+Home Farm. Village cows, grazing by the roadside, might pick up any
+noxious weed.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle continued solemnly:</p>
+
+<p>"Me and Pa'son sees eye to eye about babes. And times, when he do
+drop out o' sky and walks the green earth with mortial men, I feel sure
+that fool-wisdom be his as 'tis mine. We sucked 'un in wi' mother's
+milk."</p>
+
+<p>Susan said abruptly:</p>
+
+<p>"I've a notion, Habakkuk, that the milk from they Freesian-Holsteen
+cows bain't too rich for a baby's stomach."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle stared at her, anxiously. With difficulty, he assimilated her
+thoughts, abandoning, for the moment, his own.</p>
+
+<p>"Quantity they gives, Susan, not quality. If I was lookin' after lil'
+Lizzie Alfreda, dang me, if I wouldn't give 'un pure cream."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be bound you would. Or old ale."</p>
+
+<p>She smiled grimly. Uncle really thought that the thaw had set in. He
+continued joyously:</p>
+
+<p>"You listen to me, Susan; I've an upliftin' message for 'ee, and it
+consarns what your thoughts be dwellin' on&mdash;the baby upstairs.
+Pa'son made that plain this marning to us old sticks. The Babe of
+Bethlehem brought good cheer and peace to a wicked world ten thousand
+years ago, and the peace o' this world, seemin'ly, lies wi' the little
+'uns. And we be bound to take extry good care o' they. I tell 'ee,
+Pa'son talked so warm about babes that I felt it in me to raise another
+family."</p>
+
+<p>"On pure cream?" asked Susan. But, at last, he had challenged her
+attention.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! You has your joke. But babes be goin' to be our salvation.
+'Tis a brave, true notion. What makes a pack o' hounds, Susan? The young
+drafts. If they be lackin' in bone and blood, they turns out skirters,
+and presently the pack be streamin' all over country, runnin' riot,
+chasin' everything and catchin' nothing. And so, old girl, when you sets
+your gert mind on what milk to give lil' Lizzie, you be sarvin' the Lard
+and your country."</p>
+
+<p>Encouraged by Susan's softer expression, Uncle went on, embroidering
+his theme with pardonable exaggeration, setting forth prodigious
+statistics. Millions of babes died for lack of proper care, millions
+survived infancy to become rickety, misformed, wretched children. And
+the war was going to change all this. A nation bled white of its men
+must make the care of children its first and paramount consideration.
+When he had finished, Susan was so impressed that she said
+commandingly:</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis true. And your duty be plain, Habakkuk."</p>
+
+<p>"Meanin', Susan,&mdash;&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"You step up so brisk as may be to Home Farm. You see Mr. Fishpingle.
+You tell 'un that my gran'child needs pure milk, and, if you don't get
+it, your powers o' speech bain't what you crack 'em up to be."</p>
+
+<p>"Come wi' me, Susan. 'Twill blow some cobwebs out of 'ee."</p>
+
+<p>"No; I sets in this house till&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Till when, you broody old hen?"</p>
+
+<p>"Till Fancy be better."</p>
+
+<p>After some protest, Uncle went his way alone, but he whistled as he
+strode along, the jolly optimist. Next Sunday he would see Susan in her
+pew. Soon there would be a christening, and word would come from Alfred.
+Uncle now shared with the Squire the conviction that Alfred, probably
+rushing ahead of his men, had been surrounded by Proosians and
+overpowered.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the Tuesday, the Squire received a telegram from London, which
+he shewed to his wife:</p>
+
+<p>"Yellam not a prisoner."</p>
+
+<p>The telegram was signed by one of the most honoured names in
+England.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Pomfret sighed. The Squire fussed and fumed, detesting
+mystery.</p>
+
+<p>"What does it mean, Mary? If he isn't a prisoner, where the dooce is
+he? I have his Colonel's word for it that all the dead and wounded were
+brought in. This telegram is equally reliable. I ask you, where is
+Alfred Yellam?"</p>
+
+<p>"Shell-shock affects some of them very strangely."</p>
+
+<p>"What d'ye mean by that, my dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"You remember John Boyce?"</p>
+
+<p>The Squire was not likely to forget John Boyce, one of the quietest,
+gentlest, and pluckiest of the many wounded men who had passed through
+Pomfret Court. He had been a sufferer from shell-shock and gas, but
+otherwise sound of limb. One morning, as the Squire was lathering his
+face, word came to him that John Boyce had gone mad. Without pausing to
+remove the lather, wearing pyjamas and slippers, the Squire had rushed
+out of his dressing-room, downstairs, and into a corridor, where Boyce
+stood at bay, with a valiant V. A. D. in front of him. He had escaped
+from the ward, and happened to be close to Lionel's sitting-room. Into
+this room the Squire led Boyce, trying to calm him down. The poor fellow
+was possessed of suicidal mania. He had lost his chums and his health.
+He demanded a rifle and permission to go into the garden and "end it."
+It was piteous to hear him. As yet he had exhibited no violence. But in
+Lionel's room, where swords were hanging on the wall, Boyce, with his
+congested eyes on the naked steel, struggled desperately to get hold of
+a sword. The Squire was a very powerful man, and Boyce undersized, but
+insanity nearly mastered sanity. Suddenly, Boyce's body relaxed. All
+violence went out of him. Soon he went back to the saloon, quite himself
+again. Later, he was taken to Netley Hospital, where he recovered
+completely.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Pomfret said slowly:</p>
+
+<p>"Just between ourselves, Geoffrey, is it possible that poor Alfred,
+slightly wounded in the head, perhaps, is wandering somewhere in
+France?"</p>
+
+<p>The Squire opened his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Mary, are you hinting at&mdash;desertion?"</p>
+
+<p>"If he were not himself, like John Boyce?"</p>
+
+<p>The Squire had to admit that this was possible. Alfred must be
+somewhere. Upon him would be his identification-disk. The number of this
+had been sent to The Hague.</p>
+
+<p>"I must see Hamlin."</p>
+
+<p>He did. Hamlin told him that Fancy was fluttering between life and
+death. Under the circumstances, it might be expedient to say nothing
+about the telegram. To this the Squire warmly agreed. Nobody knew what
+was in the <ins title="'telgram' in the original">telegram</ins>, except
+Lady Pomfret and themselves. Nobody would know till Fancy had turned the
+corner, one way or t'other, poor little dear!</p>
+
+<p>Within twenty-four hours all Nether-Applewhite knew.</p>
+
+<p>Somebody at the telegraph-office must have babbled.</p>
+
+<p>What followed may be imagined. Dick told Tom, and Tom told Harry,
+till verisimilitude&mdash;to quote Gilbert&mdash;attached itself to an
+otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative. Ultimately, the tale reached
+the ears of Uncle. Alfred Yellam was a deserter&mdash;such a deduction
+from the telegram might be considered crude, but on that very account
+likely to be gobbled by gaffers&mdash;with a price set upon him, alive
+or dead. King Garge on his throne knew it.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Uncle became distraught. If it were true, he could never carry a
+high head again. Stoutly he refused to believe it, breathing strange
+oaths and threatening violence to all and sundry. If such a wicked lie
+reached Fancy's ears, it would kill her. He strode into the forest to
+cool himself. Could he face his fellow-men in church? He beheld two
+empty pews, and gnashed his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>Returning from the forest, somewhat easier in mind, he decided that
+Susan must be warned. Very wisely he went to Hamlin first, who confirmed
+the telegram, agreeing with Uncle that Mrs. Yellam should be told the
+truth and what it had been twisted into by wagging tongues. Sensible of
+Uncle's excitement and indignation, he said quietly:</p>
+
+<p>"You must rise above this gossip. It is not unnatural and not
+ill-natured."</p>
+
+<p>"I begs your pardon, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Geoffrey says that Alfred must be somewhere. For my part, I
+prefer to think of him in the care, perhaps, of some friendly French
+peasant, tending a man who may not remember his own name."</p>
+
+<p>"That be a mort o' comfort. Twice in my long life, I minds forgetting
+my own name. I took a notion that I were the village idiot. Bad ale's
+tricksy stuff. But desartion be a tarr'ble word."</p>
+
+<p>Hamlin clapped him hard on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody who knows Alfred, or his mother, or you, would credit such a
+monstrous perversion of the truth."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle, much heartened, betook himself to his sister's cottage, where
+the surprise of his life awaited him. Susan literally jumped at this new
+hypothesis. She burst into excited speech.</p>
+
+<p>"If Squire thinks that, 'tis so. Parson be a wonnerful man, but, as
+you says, Habakkuk, sky-high above we. Squire be clay, a gert human
+bein' wise wi' the wisdom that I understands. If he holds that my Alferd
+be wanderin', pore dear, in France, 'tis so. I feels a different 'ooman
+to-night. And Fancy be better, too, wi' some sart o' appetite for her
+victuals. I be fightin' hard for her life, Habakkuk, and I believes
+to-night that all will be well. 'Tis queer, Fancy keeps on a-sayin' to
+me: 'Alferd'll come back.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. Pa'son be prayin' in church for
+Alferd. 'Twould seem more respectful-like if you jined in wi' your loud
+voice."</p>
+
+<p>At once Mrs. Yellam's face hardened.</p>
+
+<p>"I bide at home till Alferd comes back."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h! You be set as never was on guidin' yourself, Susan. Now,
+what about tellin' Fancy?"</p>
+
+<p>"I tells her the moment you be gone. 'Twill perk her up, better'n
+ginger-brandy. And what do I keer what they says in village? Let 'un
+talk. Squire be right. Alferd must be somewheres."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy was told within the hour. It will never be known whether the
+news affected her for good or ill. Mrs. Yellam lacked imagination.
+Fancy, we may believe, conjured up a lamentable picture of her Alfred,
+bereft of his wits, wandering in a strange land, homeless and
+half-starving, at the mercy of the elements in mid-winter. But she
+repeated the main clause in her creed:</p>
+
+<p>"Alfred'll come back."</p>
+
+<p>Napoleon has assured us that repetition is the greatest figure of
+rhetoric. The stone is worn away by the ever-falling drop of water.
+Fancy's reiterated phrase fell persistently upon the ice in Susan
+Yellam's heart and melted some of it, not all.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the Thursday morning the Squire received a letter from the
+Colonel commanding Sergeant Yellam's battalion. He read it to Lady
+Pomfret.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">"My dear Sir:</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">"With deep regret I have to inform you of the
+death of Sergeant Alfred Yellam upon the night of the fifteenth of
+December. All the facts have come to light, beyond dispute. One of our
+wounded men has been lying unconscious in our receiving hospital. Last
+night he became conscious. It seems that Yellam was close to him when a
+shell from a trench howitzer burst literally upon poor Yellam. According
+to the evidence of the wounded man Yellam disappeared. That was the last
+indelible impression of the only witness, who was struck by a splinter
+from the same shell, and lost consciousness immediately afterwards.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">"Sergeant Yellam had earned the affection and
+confidence of all ranks. He was the type of man we value most, cool in
+danger, modest at all times, cheerful, energetic and capable. Peace be
+with him!</p>
+
+<p class="quotesig2">"Yours faithfully,</p>
+
+<p class="quotesig1">"Courtenay Tring.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquote">"P. S.&mdash;The official communication will reach
+Sergeant Yellam's widow in due course. This letter will precede it, and
+I leave it to your discretion what to do."</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we do?" groaned the Squire.</p>
+
+<p>Before telling the news to anybody else, Sir Geoffrey walked to the
+Vicarage. Hamlin read the letter.</p>
+
+<p>"Susan Yellam must be told," he said slowly. "She can intercept the
+official communication. Such news would kill Fancy."</p>
+
+<p>"Who will tell Susan?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will take the letter to her."</p>
+
+<p>The Squire looked at his face. He wondered why Hamlin was so
+affected. The Parson had sat down, as if he had received a personal
+blow. He rested his austere face upon his hand, thinking not of the
+young wife, so full of faith and courage, but of the old woman. Sir
+Geoffrey said impulsively:</p>
+
+<p>"I wish that you could be spared this, Hamlin."</p>
+
+<p>"So do I."</p>
+
+<p>"You might let Jane Mucklow do it, or Uncle."</p>
+
+<p>"Susan Yellam is my parishioner. God's hand lies heavy on
+her&mdash;how heavy I am unable to determine. I have never felt,
+Pomfret, so conscious of my disabilities, of anæmic faith in such cases
+as this."</p>
+
+<p>The Squire stood confounded.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I had your faith, Hamlin."</p>
+
+<p>"What is faith?" asked Hamlin, almost fiercely. "Is it merely a
+belief that satisfies and helps oneself? The faith that burned in the
+Apostles was more than that. It saved others. Virtue, at a touch, went
+out of the faithful into the faithless. If I could touch this poor old
+woman&mdash;&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"You will," said the Squire, with assurance.</p>
+
+<p>"No. And that is why I wish that I could be spared
+another&mdash;failure."</p>
+
+<p>Soon afterwards he left the Vicarage, and, passing the church, paused
+a moment. He went in and stood near the Font, staring at the Christmas
+decorations and then at the Pomfret achievements emblazoned upon many of
+the windows. The decorations served to remind the smallest child in his
+congregation that another Child had been born into the world; the
+achievements reminded the more sophisticated of the Pomfrets who had
+died. The Child had been born to save others; the Pomfrets, many of them
+worthy, God-fearing persons, had been mainly concerned in preserving
+their own bodies and souls.</p>
+
+<p>"He saved others; Himself He cannot save."</p>
+
+<p>The wonderful line came into his mind, as his thoughts dwelt upon the
+millions of seemingly righteous, respectable men and women bent on
+saving their own souls, with but little regard for the souls of others.
+The Salvation Army, so derided and condemned by Church and State when he
+was a boy, had accomplished work which could not be ignored by priest
+and prelate, work undertaken by labourers with no outshining
+qualifications except faith in their ability to convince others, others
+as humble in condition as themselves, who stood, for the most part,
+beyond the pale of organised charity and richly-endowed religious
+denominations.</p>
+
+<p>Did this war, in relation to such thoughts, assume a new
+significance? Could regeneration, reconstruction come from below, from
+the masses, for example, out of which General Booth had enlisted his
+soldiers? Would a privilege, the noblest in the world, the sacrosanct
+prerogative to touch others to finer issues, emanate from the
+unprivileged? Hamlin could not answer the question. Or, as seemed more
+likely, would light shine from above, from a purified aristocracy,
+purged of self-interest by sacrifice, proud and eager to remove
+intolerable burdens from their less fortunate fellow-men? Or, a happier
+hypothesis than either, would the complex problem be solved by
+co-operation of masses and classes made one by sorrow and suffering,
+born anew through blood and tears? It might well be so.</p>
+
+<p>He left the church, and walked through the village. Much rain had
+fallen. He noticed that the Avon was swollen, and ready to overflow its
+banks. The wind blew cold upon his cheeks. The sun moved behind heavy
+clouds ready to discharge vast accumulations of moisture. In short, a
+raw, drizzling day, one of the last of an unhappy year.</p>
+
+<p>When Hamlin reached the cottage, a small girl, who came in during the
+morning to do house-work, the scrubbing and cleaning so dear to Susan,
+told the Parson that Mrs. Yellam was upstairs. She believed that Mrs.
+Alfred had passed a nice night. The baby was doing "lovely."</p>
+
+<p>Susan appeared within a minute. A glance at Hamlin's face was enough
+for her. In silence he took her hand and pressed it.</p>
+
+<p>"You has news of Alferd, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Her voice was perfectly calm, calmer than his.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a letter from his Commanding Officer. Sit down, and read
+it."</p>
+
+<p>They were alone in the parlour. The antimacassars had been taken from
+the big Bible and replaced. But no fire burned in the grate. To Hamlin
+the room stood for all that he detested and assailed in English life and
+character. In its humble way, it positively exuded pretension. The
+carpet, a crudely-coloured body Brussels, the ornaments on the
+mantel-shelf, the enlarged photographs, the horse-hair and mahogany
+furniture, the prim bookcase, glazed and glaringly varnished,
+imprisoning, under lock and key, books that nobody read or could read,
+the mirror, the velveteen curtains with imitation lace under-curtains,
+all had been bought to impress neighbours! It was pathetic to reflect
+that Mrs. Yellam thought this hideous parlour a thing of beauty, whereas
+her kitchen, a joy to behold, was merely regarded as utilitarian. And
+yet the kitchen expressed sincerely all that was finest in Mrs. Yellam;
+the parlour set forth blatantly the defects of her strong
+personality.</p>
+
+<p>She read the letter.</p>
+
+<p>"May I keep it, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Colonel Tring tells us, Mrs. Yellam, what we all know here.
+Alfred was a son to be proud of."</p>
+
+<p>Her face remained impassive. She agreed respectfully that it would be
+unwise to tell Fancy the truth till some measure of strength returned to
+her. Hamlin had thought out a score of simple sentences. He said none of
+them. In all his long life he had never realised so acutely the
+illimitable space which may divide two human beings. At this moment
+Parson and Parishioner stood far apart as the poles. He had intended to
+allude to his own son. But she might fling in his teeth the cutting
+reminder that he had others and a daughter. And in this cold, ugly room,
+looking upon her frozen face, sympathy congealed at its source. He
+withheld condolence, because it must hurt instead of help. In silence he
+commended her soul to God, and went away.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam unlocked her brass-cornered desk, and placed the letter
+amongst other papers. Then, idly, she looked out of the window, which
+faced the road and river. Before Hamlin came, she had stood at the
+window upstairs, staring out upon the same familiar landscape. And she
+had asked for a sign. She had looked at the heavy clouds even as Fancy
+had looked at her cards. If light shone through them, she might believe
+that for her spring and summer would bloom again.</p>
+
+<p>The sign had not been vouchsafed.</p>
+
+<p>Now, she stood at the window again, with features slightly relaxed.
+Such an expression informed her face as may be seen, sometimes, on the
+faces of steerage passengers upon trans-Atlantic boats taking leave for
+ever of their native land.</p>
+
+<p>She turned from the window and went, heavily, into the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>Had she waited a minute longer, she would have seen a sign. Through
+the falling rain shone a strange light, palely amber. It illuminated the
+dull water-meadows, evoking colour&mdash;iridescent, opaline
+tints&mdash;where colour had ceased to be. It transmuted, magically, the
+sombre lead of the swollen river into sparkling gold. And then, swiftly,
+the light failed, the vision splendid vanished like a mirage, leaving
+behind a desert.</p>
+
+<p>She went up stairs. Fancy said eagerly:</p>
+
+<p>"What does Mr. Hamlin say, Mother?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam hesitated, for one second only. She was unprepared for
+this question; she had forgotten the small maid who had scuttled into
+the room, saying that the Parson wanted to see Mrs. Yellam. With a
+tremendous effort she lied superbly, this woman who loathed lies
+because, in her masculine wisdom, she knew that lies made all ordinary
+matters worse instead of better.</p>
+
+<p>She held up her finger.</p>
+
+<p>"You be much too curious, my girl. Mr. Hamlin dropped in, very
+friendly-like, to ask me about the baby's christening. He be a oner for
+gettin' the lambs into the fold so quick as may be."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy was quite satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>"I told 'un," continued Mrs. Yellam placidly, embroidering her theme
+after a fashion which surely would have provoked envy and commendation
+from Uncle, "that you'd be up and about in no time. We passed a few
+cheerful remarks about this be-utiful weather, and then off he
+goes."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to wait for Alfred," murmured Fancy. "I've a notion that
+he'll come before the New Year. If he ain't a prisoner, he will come. I
+wonder if he knows how bad I want him."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah-h-h!" She paused, and then added sharply: "If wanting 'd bring
+Alferd, he'd be here now. You eat more and think less, and then we'll
+all be happy."</p>
+
+<p class="p5">With that Mrs. Yellam went abruptly out of the room.</p>
+
+<h3><a name="Ch20"></a>CHAPTER XX</h3>
+
+<h4>THE TRAVELLER RETURNS</h4>
+
+<p class="p2">Throughout the day, Mrs. Yellam hovered in and out of
+Fancy's room, instinctively conscious that her patient was less strong,
+but obstinately determined to fight that instinct. Outwardly, there was
+no change. Fancy lay quiet, thinking and talking of Alfred. Lizzie
+Alfreda, happily, evoked no maternal anxiety. Colic did not disturb the
+infantile slumbers. She smiled ineffably at a bottle which contained
+Frisian-Holstein milk drawn from prize-winners, and judiciously blended
+with lime-water. On this mild tipple the child thrived amazingly. The
+monthly nurse now retired to her own cottage at night, returning in the
+morning. Susan Yellam slept upon a small bed made up in Fancy's room.
+The doctor had expressed gratification at the increasing vitality of his
+patient. And on the Wednesday, he said that he should not call again for
+three days, unless he were sent for. He congratulated Susan upon her
+devotion and skill with unmistakable sincerity.</p>
+
+<p>In the afternoon, the morning's drizzle became a downpour, and the
+Avon escaped from its banks. If such rain continued, the Yellam cottage
+would soon become an island. Susan was not disturbed by this. Nothing
+mattered; nothing distracted her save the overpowering determination to
+put Fancy on her feet again. Fancy would assume control of her child.
+And then an old woman would sit down, fold her hands, and await the end.
+Her premature conviction that Fancy would die and that she would live
+had been modified on reflection. Susan held theories about life and
+work. Before the war she had contended that folks were called when their
+work was done. A few rotten apples might stick to the tree, but they
+proved the general rule. Fruit fell to the ground when ripe.</p>
+
+<p>Satisfied in her mind that she would save Fancy by her own undivided
+efforts, Mrs. Yellam contemplated with grim satisfaction her approaching
+decease. She regarded herself as dead. She could survey with detachment
+what was left of the Susan who rose early, waited diligently upon Fancy,
+ate her meals (without any pleasure in them) and lay down to troubled
+sleep. So chilled was she in mind, soul and body, that she noticed
+without regret that Solomon, the faithful Solomon, too affectionate, too
+demonstrative to a hard old flint, had transferred his allegiance to
+Fancy. The dog lay at the foot of her bed night and day. Fancy talked to
+him about Alfred, not about Lizzie Alfreda, because Solomon was jealous.
+When Lizzie Alfreda came in, Solomon went for a run in the garden, and
+heartened himself up by sniffing at various food-stuffs in a delightful
+state of decomposition. But, oddly enough, he never wandered farther
+afield. Within half an hour&mdash;Lizzie Alfreda's visits were
+drastically curtailed&mdash;he would patter up the wooden stairs,
+scratch at the door, whine, and be admitted. In a jiffy he was on the
+bed again, staring hard at Fancy, as if he were a doctor contemplating a
+change of treatment.</p>
+
+<p>It had been agreed between Hamlin and Mrs. Yellam that Alfred's death
+should be kept a secret from the villagers till the official
+notification appeared in the newspapers. But when Uncle walked into the
+cottage at tea-time, full of cheer despite the weather, and cracking
+many small jokes about boats and swimmers, Mrs. Yellam simply could not
+bear it. She said with startling abruptness:</p>
+
+<p>"Habakkuk, I'd break bad news to 'ee gently, if I could. But 'tisn't
+in me to do it. Alferd be dead."</p>
+
+<p>Poor Uncle could not take it in.</p>
+
+<p>"But, Susan, Alferd be lost."</p>
+
+<p>"'Twas a shell. They couldn't find 'un, because there was nothing to
+find."</p>
+
+<p>To her dismay, Uncle bowed his head upon his hands and wept like a
+woman, shedding the copious tears that might have softened the hard eyes
+steadily regarding him. He had loved Alfred. Susan knew this. He could
+have better spared one of his own sons rather than this kindly,
+affectionate nephew. She rose quietly and fetched the letter, giving him
+time to recover his self-control. As she held out the letter, he raised
+a face to hers so seamed by grief and pain that almost, almost her heart
+melted within her. He read the letter and returned it. She put it away,
+and took a chair upon the other side of the hearth. Uncle gazed about
+him, noting, as men do upon such occasions, trifles that escape notice
+in happier times. The coffin stools stood in their old place against the
+wall. Uncle pointed at them, with trembling finger:</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy be dead, too."</p>
+
+<p>"No. She be more like herself to-day, although tarr'ble weak. They
+stools be for me, Habakkuk. The sooner I goes the better."</p>
+
+<p>No inflection of resignation tempered this statement. Uncle, like
+Hamlin, realised the futility of condolence, but silence imposed too
+great a burden upon him.</p>
+
+<p>"You has the baby," he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"She belongs to Fancy. I bain't afeard for they two."</p>
+
+<p>"Be you afeard for yourself, Susan?"</p>
+
+<p>She eyed him, sensible of an ever-increasing aversion to questions.
+Was he thinking of punishment hereafter, of Hell's fires?</p>
+
+<p>"I bain't afeard o' Hell, and I bain't going to Heaven. For why?
+Heaven and Hell be here on earth&mdash;and nowheres else."</p>
+
+<p>"Susan&mdash;&mdash;!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, you be mazed, and no wonder. But I be come to that. I believed
+in God A'mighty; I believed in Satan&mdash;for sixty long years. But
+such belief be clean gone."</p>
+
+<p>"You be wrong, Susan. It ain't in me to argufy wi' 'ee, and, maybe,
+tear both our hearts. But you be wrong. The swallers knows better'n
+that. Who gave 'em their wisdom? I says no more but this: God sent His
+Own People into the wilderness, where you be, and He brought 'em
+out."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. Uncle stood up.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis rainin' crool hard, but I be off to the Forest. You won't want
+Jane fussin' about 'ee? No. Or anybody else. I allers allowed as misery
+loved company, but I be so miserable this day that I wants to be alone,
+as you does."</p>
+
+<p>He kissed her cold cheeks and went out into the rain.</p>
+
+<p>She sat on for a minute, but the thought that worried her most was
+the regret that he had not had his tea. The day was failing fast. In a
+moment she would have to light a lamp and carry it upstairs. But
+something remained to be done, a duty neglected since the morning.</p>
+
+<p>She went into the parlour, where the light was better, but not good;
+good enough, she reflected, for her purpose. She lifted the Bible,
+placed it upon the middle table, and opened it at the fly-leaf. Then she
+took pen and ink from her desk and a clean sheet of blotting-paper. She
+took out her spectacles, wiped them carefully, put them on, and sat
+down. Against Alfred's name she made the necessary entry, "<i>Killed in
+Action</i>," adding the date. Her hand never trembled; the writing was
+characteristic; firm, bold, with the words neatly spaced, indicating
+love of order. What she had willed herself to be, she was: a flint
+embedded in sterile soil. She took off her spectacles and placed them in
+their case, rising as she did so. Upon second thoughts, she decided to
+let the ink dry upon the page. Suddenly, an irresistible impulse gripped
+her. She glanced about her furtively, defiantly, as if challenging
+unseen powers to thwart her determination. Hastily with fingers that
+trembled this time, she snatched up the pen, dipped it into the ink, and
+wrote against her name, Susan Yellam, these words:</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Died. December 28th, 1916.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>As hastily, she placed the sheet of blotting-paper above the entries,
+closed the Bible, and replaced it upon its table.</p>
+
+<p>Having shut up the parlour, she lit a lamp and carried it upstairs.
+The baby was asleep. The nurse went home for the night. Then Mrs. Yellam
+told Fancy, in a cheerful voice, that she would bring up tea in a few
+minutes.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I heard Uncle," said Fancy.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; he looked in and made some stupid jokes, he did, about gettin'
+the miller's boat."</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever for?"</p>
+
+<p>"Like as not we may be on an island afore nightfall."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd love to ride in miller's boat again. Alfred popped the question
+in that. I did tease him first. 'Twas rare fun. I suppose Uncle was in
+fine fettle, as usual?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I never seen him so gay and joyous. Now, you lie so quiet as
+any mouse whilst I gets tea."</p>
+
+<p>It might have been so delightful a meal. Outside, the wind roared and
+the rain fell in sheets; inside, the logs crackled in the fireplace, the
+warm curtains were drawn, and the lamp shone upon Mrs. Yellam's best
+tea-things. Everything that could tempt a capricious appetite was there:
+fragrant tea, cream, jam, honey, and little scones which warranted the
+belief that Susan Yellam had secreted somewhere a bag of white
+flour.</p>
+
+<p>Susan had to sustain the burden of talk, and soared to heights. Fancy
+must be entertained&mdash;the doctor's injunction. The old woman's
+amazing will surmounted all obstacles. And who shall say that this
+heart-breaking effort to beguile Fancy was not the most selfless
+achievement of Mrs. Yellam's long life? She described passages in
+Uncle's early career; anecdotes about Jane, anecdotes about her own
+Lizzie and Alfred. As a boy, it seemed, Alfred had been very untidy. He
+never kept his own little attic in order. Finally his mother said to
+him:</p>
+
+<p>"Alferd, your room bain't a boy's room, nor a dog's kennel, nor a
+pig's stye. 'Tis the habitation of a lunatic."</p>
+
+<p>Fancy smiled, because the mother must have spoken at the time, and
+again now, with such inimitable seriousness.</p>
+
+<p>After tea, Fancy was commanded to rest. But before doing so, she
+caught hold of her entertainer's hand, and said earnestly:</p>
+
+<p>"How good you are to me, Mother! How good and kind you always are to
+sick folk. Such a wondersome woman! I hope my lil' maid will grow up
+just like you."</p>
+
+<p>"If you talk such outrageous nonsense, I'll&mdash;I'll spank Lizzie.
+That'll larn 'ee."</p>
+
+<p>But Fancy refused to be gagged. She went on, in her soft, feeble
+tones, expatiating upon Mrs. Yellam's many virtues and excellencies.
+Time was when Susan would have listened to this praise with smug
+complacency. Fancy did but state the facts. And the mere recital of them
+exasperated the listener beyond endurance. Steel striking
+flint&mdash;and praise had become steel&mdash;provoked sparks.</p>
+
+<p>"I be real vexed wi' 'ee, Fancy."</p>
+
+<p>She bustled off with the tea-things, and remained absent so long that
+Fancy began to fear that she had really offended her. Solomon, however,
+reassured her on this point. They exchanged pleasant chat about Alfred.
+Fancy felt jealous because Solomon would know when Alfred was coming at
+least five minutes before she did.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll jump off the bed and bark."</p>
+
+<p>Solomon wagged his tail.</p>
+
+<p>"My! Won't he get wet if he comes to-night, Solly? Are you expecting
+him to-night, you wise little dog?"</p>
+
+<p>Solomon put a cold nose into her hand. Mrs. Yellam's step was heard
+on the stairs. Solomon retired to his end of the bed, well aware that
+prolonged talk had been forbidden after tea.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam, seeing that Fancy was awake, said impressively:</p>
+
+<p>"We be an island at this minute."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam assured her that it had often happened before. The
+cottage itself stood high above the encroaching waters. At highest flood
+they were not more than two feet deep.</p>
+
+<p>"Alfred'll get so wet."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay. I never thought o' that. I think, Fancy, that you did ought to
+put this strange notion of Alferd's coming out of your dear lil' head.
+'Tis most onlikely. I dunno' how such a queer idea got into it."</p>
+
+<p>"Because he promised me that he would come."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Lard bless 'ee, he meant so be as he got leave. If 'tis true
+that he be safe in France&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I know he be safe."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam glanced at her anxiously. Was the girl light-headed? She
+must know that if Alfred were missing, owing&mdash;as Fancy had been
+discreetly told&mdash;to some injury to his head which had caused him to
+stray from the British lines, his first steps, when he became himself
+again, would be directed back to his battalion. Wisely, she busied
+herself about the room, entreating her patient to compose herself to
+sleep. Presently Fancy dozed off, and Mrs. Yellam, softly approaching
+the bed, examined her critically. She looked startlingly pretty. A faint
+colour tinged lips and cheeks; her skin was translucently clear; her
+hair, regularly brushed by Mrs. Yellam, lay thick and lustrous above her
+forehead.</p>
+
+<p>It was almost impossible to behold her as a widow.</p>
+
+<p>For the first time since she had dedicated all her energies to
+fighting for this frail life doubt assailed Mrs. Yellam. Fancy's hand
+lay upon the white counterpane. Mrs. Yellam laid her hand beside it and
+compared the two.</p>
+
+<p>All her experience of life as it is lived by people who cannot afford
+servants, the endless bondage to manual labour, the washing, scrubbing
+of floors and pots and pans, the cooking, the mending, rose up in her
+ample mind, and filled it with poignant misgiving. Could this attenuated
+hand, soft and weak as a child's, fend for Lizzie if&mdash;if Death came
+at the despairing call of Susan Yellam?</p>
+
+<p>She clenched her own hand, nearly as large and powerful as a man's
+fist. Fancy <i>must</i> live to mother her child. She had no claim on
+Death, this young, pretty creature, so easily pleased with life, so
+happy with simple things, so contented with what she possessed,
+incapable of envying those above her in station. Time would be kind to
+her. Time would enshrine Alfred in her heart as the man who had taught
+her to love, who had given her a fidelity and tenderness rarely found in
+cottages or palaces. She might marry again. Why not? It says much for
+Susan Yellam's essential wisdom that she could visualise such a
+possibility, however remote, without a pang.</p>
+
+<p>A couple of hours passed.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie Alfreda was fed and washed, with Fancy looking on, and
+replaced in her cradle. Mrs. Yellam mended the fire, and went down to
+the kitchen to prepare supper. Fancy seemed to be refreshed after her
+nap, but some inflection of her voice warned an obstinate old woman that
+strength was departing, very slowly, almost imperceptibly, as the
+hour-hand moves round the dial.</p>
+
+<p>After supper she took her knitting and sat by the bed. To her great
+relief, Fancy never mentioned Alfred. She prattled artlessly about
+Lizzie. And then, gradually, during the intermittancies of silence, Mrs.
+Yellam knew that the victory, for which she had fought so desperately,
+which she had believed to be won, was unachievable. Afterwards, she was
+unable to say when this conviction seized her. She admitted, however, to
+Uncle that she knew because Fancy must have known. And Fancy believed
+that she was cunningly hiding this knowledge. It leaked from her lips,
+as she talked about Lizzie Alfreda to her grandmother, conjuring up a
+picture of youth ministering to age, a picture so vivid, so true to
+life, that something told Susan Yellam that it must come to pass. Fancy
+was going. And when her own time came, she would lie in this bed, and
+Alfred's child would close her eyes. Fancy foreshadowed no such scene.
+But she spoke of Mrs. Yellam teaching Lizzie Alfreda how to use her
+needle and instructing her in other domestic tasks. The thought of doing
+this, of playing mother in her old age, softened indurated tissues, but
+the original hardness remained. Susan turned desperately for comfort to
+a flesh-and-blood grandchild; she turned as desperately from any faith
+in a wise and merciful God.</p>
+
+<p>Outside, the rain went on falling; the wind wailed through the firs
+where the ospreys found sanctuary on their flight south. Solomon slept
+comfortably at the foot of the bed. Presently, it became time to prepare
+Fancy for the night. Face and hands were washed with soap which Mrs.
+Yellam had never applied to her weather-beaten countenance. Fancy's hair
+was brushed and plaited in two coils.</p>
+
+<p>"Put on fresh ribands to-night, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"What an idea! You be so vain as any twoad."</p>
+
+<p>"Are toads vain? I'd like blue ribands."</p>
+
+<p>Grumblingly, Mrs. Yellam went to a drawer and produced new ribands.
+When she had finished her patient's toilet, she said:</p>
+
+<p>"My! But you look pretty to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Do I? I'm glad of that."</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie Alfreda woke up, clamouring for Frisian-Holstein milk. She lay
+beside Fancy till the bottle was finished. Then she was taken back to
+her cradle in the next room.</p>
+
+<p>It was fully time now for Mrs. Yellam to prepare for the night, but
+she didn't do so. Fancy had closed her eyes. The faint colour had gone
+from her cheeks. She had fallen asleep. Susan laid her finger upon the
+pulse; she could just feel it beating, but not regularly. A wild impulse
+surged through her to rush into the night, to send Uncle for the doctor.
+But she dared not leave her patient. And, after all, there was so little
+change; the child had talked too much after tea; strength would return
+in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>She made up the fire again, slipped off her austere black gown, and
+put on a dressing-gown, an ancient garment known to many mothers in
+Nether-Applewhite. Draped in this, with list sandals on her feet, you
+might have taken Susan for a Roman matron. Hamlin, who had seen her thus
+arrayed, nearly addressed her as "Cornelia."</p>
+
+<p>An hour or more may have passed, during which time the gale began to
+rage itself out. Lulls succeeded roaring blasts. Mrs. Yellam felt no
+inclination to sleep; she became, instead, sensible of alertness, a
+quickening of sensibilities and senses. Her hearing, still acute, became
+painfully so. The patter of the rain upon the windows irritated her;
+when it stopped, she missed it, and wanted it to begin again.</p>
+
+<p>And then a strange thing happened, strange only when taken in
+connection with what followed. Solomon woke up, jumped lightly from the
+bed, and went to the door. He had been let out, as usual, some two hours
+previously. Mrs. Yellam held up a finger, enjoining silence. Solomon lay
+down, head up, staring at the door, alert, as Mrs. Yellam was,
+expectant, with ears cocked as if he heard something or somebody.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Solly?" she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>He paid no attention.</p>
+
+<p>If the cottage had not been surrounded by water, Mrs. Yellam might
+have considered the probability of tramps trying to find shelter in the
+barn. She would not have been alarmed. Her cottage was tramp-proof and
+at this moment an island fortress. At the same time, she knew that her
+heart was beating faster; an indefinable fear assailed her, something
+she had never experienced before.</p>
+
+<p>She started violently. Fancy was sitting up in bed, her cheeks
+flushed with colour, her eyes dancing, her arms outstretched.</p>
+
+<p>"I hear him," she exclaimed. "Don't you, Mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lie down, child; lie down."</p>
+
+<p>"It's Alfred. Let him in!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam did not move. Fancy, she decided, was light-headed. She
+hesitated, fearing to excite her, willing to humour her, provided she
+made no attempt to leave her bed.</p>
+
+<p>"He's coming upstairs."</p>
+
+<p>She no longer looked at Mrs. Yellam; her eyes remained upon the
+bedroom door. So strange a light shone in those eyes that Mrs. Yellam
+began to question her own sanity, not Fancy's.</p>
+
+<p>Solomon never moved.</p>
+
+<p>The suspense became unendurable. But Mrs. Yellam remained in her
+chair, ready to spring to her feet, if Fancy left the bed.</p>
+
+<p>Solomon got up, whined, turned from the door, and jumped into Mrs.
+Yellam's lap. He was trembling. At the same moment she heard Fancy's
+voice, strong and exultant:</p>
+
+<p>"Alfie!&mdash;I knew you'd come."</p>
+
+<p>Her speech became broken and faltering:</p>
+
+<p>"I did want you, as never was. It was awful going through it without
+you. And it's a She&mdash;what you wanted. How lovely you look! Kiss me
+again! Hold me tight! If you don't, I&mdash;I may slip off...."</p>
+
+<p>Her voice died away in sighs; her eyes closed; her head fell back
+upon her pillow. Mrs. Yellam put Solomon down, rose to her feet, and
+hurried to the bed. In an instant her strong arms were encircling the
+wasted body, clutching it to her, trying to hold Fancy back, but knowing
+that she was, as she said, slipping away. Fancy spoke again, very
+faintly:</p>
+
+<p>"However did you manage to come back?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Yellam listened, waiting, hoping, and almost believing, that an
+answer would be forthcoming. Her son, according to Colonel Tring, had
+been killed by a shell&mdash;killed and obliterated. She had known that
+death must have been painless.</p>
+
+<p>Fancy answered for Alfred, in a whisper that seemed to come from an
+immense distance.</p>
+
+<p>"I hear you, plain as plain. What? A&mdash;<i>shell</i>&mdash;! Did
+it hurt, Alfie? It didn't. But because of that you were able to come.
+You had to come for both our sakes&mdash;Mother's and mine. And such a
+night! You ain't a bit wet, neither.... Afraid, Alfie...? With you
+holding me tight as tight.... Oh, no."</p>
+
+<p>Susan Yellam heard a trickle of laughter. After that Fancy sighed
+twice, and then her small body relaxed.</p>
+
+<p>She had slipped away.</p>
+
+<p class="center">*     *     *     *     *</p>
+
+<p>Dawn was stealing into the kitchen when Mrs. Yellam went
+downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>She was still curiously alert in mind, although very weary in body.
+After she had closed Fancy's eyes and performed the last services, she
+sat down by the bed to think. Dying people, as she knew, might entertain
+hallucinations. And Fancy, in health, exercised a lively imagination.
+That she should believe that she saw Alfred, so long and ardently
+desired, just before breath left her body, was not remarkable in
+itself.</p>
+
+<p>But, speaking for Alfred, repeating, as it were, information, Fancy
+had used the word "shell."</p>
+
+<p>Was this mere coincidence?</p>
+
+<p>Again, according to Alfred&mdash;admitting that he had come
+back&mdash;his return in the spirit was due not only to solicitude for
+his wife, but for his mother. She heard Fancy's feeble voice&mdash;"for
+both our sakes." And she had spoken of his appearance as "lovely."</p>
+
+<p>Susan Yellam's strong brain considered these three facts together
+with the uncanny behaviour of Solomon, now peacefully asleep in the next
+room. As yet, she had shed no tears, but, slowly, the ice about her
+heart was melting.</p>
+
+<p>Her thoughts turned to the form beneath the spotless sheet. It seemed
+so cruel that Fancy should be dead. Why was life given to young things
+and then taken away? But this gentle creature had not lived in vain. She
+had accomplished a task that had baffled Jane Mucklow and herself. Fancy
+had drawn Habakkuk from the ale-house, beguiled him from his cronies
+with soft words and smiles, made a better man of him. She had made a
+better man of Alfred.</p>
+
+<p>She thought of Alfred and Fancy together.</p>
+
+<p>Almost she believed that Alfred had come back.</p>
+
+<p>Hovering upon the brink of this conviction, she heard a wail from the
+baby, the pitiful appeal of helplessness to strength. She hurried into
+the next room, and took the child into her arms, clutching it to her
+bosom.</p>
+
+<p>Lizzie Alfreda was hers, her very own. Till that moment she had
+regarded the tiny creature, not with indifference, but apathetically, a
+grandchild by whom she would do her duty. And we know that she had
+forced herself to believe that Fancy would live to fend for her own
+child. Could so frail a woman have done so properly? If her wish had
+been granted, if Death had taken Susan instead of Fancy Yellam, and if
+Fancy had risen from her bed an enfeebled, anæmic woman, subject to all
+those maladies which wait on physical debility, could she have "fended"
+for Lizzie Alfreda?</p>
+
+<p>The ice was melting fast now.</p>
+
+<p>She fed Lizzie Alfreda and replaced her in the cradle, but the baby
+still wailed a little, staring at Susan Yellam. She took her up&mdash;an
+action against her principles&mdash;soothed her, and immediately the
+child stopped crying. Susan crooned to her a lullaby which she thought
+she had forgotten, which had served, long ago, when her own Lizzie was
+wakeful. And the simple, droning song brought back, vividly, past
+pleasures. Age dropped from her; she became for a moment a young mother
+anticipating joyously all that "fending" implied. Soon the child
+slept.</p>
+
+<p>And then the tears came, washing away ice, doubt, despair, cleansing
+anew a humble and contrite heart.</p>
+
+<p>From that undiscovered country, whose existence she had obstinately
+denied, a traveller had returned.</p>
+
+<p>After lighting the kitchen fire, Susan Yellam entered the parlour.
+She pulled up the blinds and drew the curtains. From her desk, she took
+a sharp penknife, and tried its edge upon her thumb. Then, reluctantly,
+as if ashamed, she opened the Bible, intending to erase carefully the
+last presumptuous entry.</p>
+
+<p>She glanced at it, and a sharp exclamation escaped her trembling
+lips. She put on her spectacles and stared, open-mouthed, at the page in
+front of her. "Died, December 28th, 1916," was written not, as she had
+supposed, against the name of Susan Yellam, but against the name of
+Fancy Yellam.</p>
+
+<p>And then she remembered that, in her blind haste to record her own
+death, she had forgotten to put on her spectacles.</p>
+
+<p>And the light, at the time, was failing.</p>
+
+<p>The Light was not failing now.</p>
+
+<p>She fell upon her knees, bowing her head over the Book.</p>
+
+<p class="p5">Next Sunday she was in her pew.</p>
+
+<p class="p5 center">THE END</p>
+
+<hr class="thick" />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">the novels of</span><br />
+MARY ROBERTS RINEHART</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center smaller"><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for
+Grosset &amp; Dunlap's list.</b></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="u">"K."</span> Illustrated.</p>
+
+<p>K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, drops out of the world that has known
+him, and goes to live in a little town where beautiful Sidney Page
+lives. She is in training to become a nurse. The joys and troubles of
+their young love are told with that keen and sympathetic appreciation
+which has made the author famous.</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE MAN IN LOWER TEN.</p>
+
+<p>Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.</p>
+
+<p>An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the
+"Man in Lower Ten." The strongest elements of Mrs. Rinehart's success
+are found in this book.</p>
+
+<p class="u">WHEN A MAN MARRIES.</p>
+
+<p>Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker.</p>
+
+<p>A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his
+aunt is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family
+income and who has never seen the wife, knows nothing of the domestic
+upheaval. How the young man met the situation is humorously and most
+entertainingly told.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE.</span> Illus. by Lester
+Ralph.</p>
+
+<p>The summer occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold
+Armstrong, the son of the owner, on the circular staircase. Following
+the murder a bank failure is announced. Around these two events is woven
+a plot of absorbing interest.</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS.</p>
+
+<p>Illustrated (Photo Play Edition.)</p>
+
+<p>Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly
+realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious
+doctor who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with
+world-worn Dr. Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and
+slender means.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset &amp; Dunlap, Publishers,
+New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="thick" />
+
+<hr class="thick p4" />
+
+<p class="center">BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center smaller"><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for
+Grosset &amp; Dunlap's list.</b></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="u">SEVENTEEN.</span> Illustrated by Arthur William
+Brown.</p>
+
+<p>No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortal
+young people of this story. Its humor is irresistible and reminiscent of
+the time when the reader was Seventeen.</p> <p><span
+class="u">PENROD.</span> Illustrated by Gordon Grant.</p>
+
+<p>This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, humorous,
+tragic things which are locked secrets to most older folks. It is a
+finished, exquisite work.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">PENROD AND SAM.</span> Illustrated by Worth
+Brehm.</p>
+
+<p>Like "Penrod" and "Seventeen," this book contains some remarkable
+phases of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenile
+prankishness that have ever been written.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">THE TURMOIL.</span> Illustrated by C. E.
+Chambers.</p>
+
+<p>Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts against
+his father's plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The love of
+a fine girl turns Bibb's life from failure to success.</p> <p><span
+class="u">THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA.</span> Frontispiece.</p>
+
+<p>A story of love and politics,&mdash;more especially a picture of a
+country editor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies in the
+love interest.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">THE FLIRT.</span> Illustrated by Clarence F.
+Underwood.</p>
+
+<p>The "Flirt," the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's
+engagement, drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another,
+leads another to lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid and
+unpromising suitor, leaving the really worthy one to marry her
+sister.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><i>Ask for Complete free list of G. &amp; D. Popular
+Copyrighted Fiction</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset &amp; Dunlap, Publishers,
+New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="thick" />
+
+<hr class="thick p4" />
+
+<p class="center">KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIES</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center smaller"><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for
+Grosset &amp; Dunlap's list.</b></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="u">MOTHER.</span> Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p>
+
+<p>This book has a fairy-story touch, counterbalanced by the sturdy
+reality of struggle, sacrifice, and resulting peace and power of a
+mother's experiences.</p>
+
+<p class="u">SATURDAY'S CHILD.</p>
+
+<p>Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes.</p>
+
+<p>Out on the Pacific coast a normal girl, obscure and lovely, makes a
+quest for happiness. She passes through three stages&mdash;poverty,
+wealth and service&mdash;and works out a creditable salvation.</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE RICH MRS. BURGOYNE.</p>
+
+<p>Illustrated by Lucius H. Hitchcock.</p>
+
+<p>The story of a sensible woman who keeps within her means, refuses to
+be swamped by social engagements, lives a normal human life of varied
+interests, and has her own romance.</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE.</p>
+
+<p>Frontispiece by Allan Gilbert.</p>
+
+<p>How Julia Page, reared in rather unpromising surroundings, lifted
+herself through sheer determination to a higher plane of life.</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE HEART OF RACHAEL.</p>
+
+<p>Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers.</p>
+
+<p>Rachael is called upon to solve many problems, and in working out
+these, there is shown the beauty and strength of soul of one of
+fiction's most appealing characters.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><i>Ask for Complete free list of G. &amp; D. Popular Copyrighted
+Fiction</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset &amp; Dunlap, Publishers,
+New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="thick" />
+
+<hr class="thick p4" />
+
+<p class="center">SEWELL FORD'S STORIES</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center smaller"><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for
+Grosset &amp; Dunlap's list.</b></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="u">SHORTY McCABE</span>. Illustrated by Francis Vaux
+Wilson.</p>
+
+<p>A very humorous story. The hero, an independent and vigorous thinker,
+sees life, and tells about it in a very unconventional way.</p>
+
+<p class="u">SIDE-STEPPING WITH SHORTY.</p>
+
+<p>Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.</p>
+
+<p>Twenty skits, presenting people with their foibles. Sympathy with
+human nature and an abounding sense of humor are the requisites for
+"side-stepping with Shorty."</p>
+
+<p class="u">SHORTY McCABE ON THE JOB.</p>
+
+<p>Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.</p>
+
+<p>Shorty McCabe reappears with his figures of speech revamped right up
+to the minute. He aids in the right distribution of a "conscience fund,"
+and gives joy to all concerned.</p>
+
+<p class="u">SHORTY McCABE'S ODD NUMBERS.</p>
+
+<p>Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.</p>
+
+<p>These further chronicles of Shorty McCabe tell of his studio for
+physical culture, and of his experiences both on the East side and at
+swell yachting parties.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">TORCHY</span>. Illus. by Geo. Biehm and Jas.
+Montgomery Flagg.</p>
+
+<p>A red-headed office boy, overflowing with wit and wisdom peculiar to
+the youths reared on the sidewalks of New York, tells the story of his
+experiences.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">TRYING OUT TORCHY</span>. Illustrated by F. Foster
+Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>Torchy is just as deliriously funny in these stories as he was in the
+previous book.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">ON WITH TORCHY</span>. Illustrated by F. Foster
+Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>Torchy falls desperately in love with "the only girl that ever was,"
+but that young society woman's aunt tries to keep the young people
+apart, which brings about many hilariously funny situations.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC</span>. Illustrated by F. Foster
+Lincoln.</p>
+
+<p>Torchy rises from the position of office boy to that of secretary for
+the Corrugated Iron Company. The story is full of humor and infectious
+American slang.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">WILT THOU TORCHY</span>. Illus. by F. Snapp and A. W.
+Brown.</p>
+
+<p>Torchy goes on a treasure search expedition to the Florida West
+Coast, in company with a group of friends of the Corrugated Trust and
+with his friend's aunt, on which trip Torchy wins the aunt's permission
+to place an engagement ring on Vee's finger.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset &amp; Dunlap, Publishers,
+New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="thick" />
+
+<hr class="thick p4" />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">the novels of</span><br /> WINSTON
+CHURCHILL</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="u">THE INSIDE OF THE CUP</span>. Illustrated by Howard
+Giles.</p>
+
+<p>The Reverend John Hodder is called to a fashionable church in a
+middle-western city. He knows little of modern problems and in his
+theology is as orthodox as the rich men who control his church could
+desire. But the facts of modern life are thrust upon him; an awakening
+follows and in the end he works out a solution.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">A FAR COUNTRY</span>. Illustrated by Herman
+Pfeifer.</p>
+
+<p>This novel is concerned with big problems of the day. As <i>The
+Inside of the Cup</i> gets down to the essentials in its discussion of
+religion, so <i>A Far Country</i> deals in a story that is intense and
+dramatic, with other vital issues confronting the twentieth century.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">A MODERN CHRONICLE</span>. Illustrated by J. H.
+Gardner Soper.</p>
+
+<p>This, Mr. Churchill's first great presentation of the Eternal
+Feminine, is throughout a profound study of a fascinating young American
+woman. It is frankly a modern love story.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">MR. CREWE'S CAREER</span>. Illus. by A. I. Keller and
+Kinneys.</p>
+
+<p>A new England state is under the political domination of a railway
+and Mr. Crewe, a millionaire, seizes a moment when the cause of the
+people is being espoused by an ardent young attorney, to further his own
+interest in a political way. The daughter of the railway president plays
+no small part in the situation.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">THE CROSSING</span>. Illustrated by S. Adamson and L.
+Baylis.</p>
+
+<p>Describing the battle of Fort Moultrie, the blazing of the Kentucky
+wilderness, the expedition of Clark and his handful of followers in
+Illinois, the beginning of civilization along the Ohio and Mississippi,
+and the treasonable schemes against Washington.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">CONISTON</span>. Illustrated by Florence Scovel
+Shinn.</p>
+
+<p>A deft blending of love and politics. A New Englander is the hero, a
+crude man who rose to political prominence by his own powers, and then
+surrendered all for the love of a woman.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">THE CELEBRITY</span>. An episode.</p>
+
+<p>An inimitable bit of comedy describing an interchange of
+personalities between a celebrated author and a bicycle salesman. It is
+the purest, keenest fun&mdash;and is American to the core.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">THE CRISIS</span>. Illustrated with scenes from the
+Photo-Play.</p>
+
+<p>A book that presents the great crisis in our national life with
+splendid power and with a sympathy, a sincerity, and a patriotism that
+are inspiring.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">RICHARD CARVEL</span>. Illustrated by Malcolm
+Frazer.</p>
+
+<p>An historical novel which gives a real and vivid picture of Colonial
+times, and is good, clean, spirited reading in all its phases and
+interesting throughout.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset &amp; Dunlap, Publishers,
+New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="thick" />
+
+<hr class="thick p4" />
+
+<p class="center">JACK LONDON'S NOVELS</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center smaller"><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for
+Grosset &amp; Dunlap's list.</b></p>
+
+<hr /> <p><span class="u">JOHN BARLEYCORN</span>. Illustrated by H. T.
+Dunn.</p>
+
+<p>This remarkable book is a record of the author's own amazing
+experiences. This big, brawny world rover, who has been acquainted with
+alcohol from boyhood, comes out boldly against John Barleycorn. It is a
+string of exciting adventures, yet it forcefully conveys an unforgetable
+idea and makes a typical Jack London book.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">THE VALLEY OF THE MOON</span>. Frontispiece by George
+Harper.</p>
+
+<p>The story opens in the city slums where Billy Roberts, teamster and
+ex-prize fighter, and Saxon Brown, laundry worker, meet and love and
+marry. They tramp from one end of California to the other, and in the
+Valley of the Moon find the farm paradise that is to be their
+salvation.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">BURNING DAYLIGHT</span>. Four illustrations.</p>
+
+<p>The story of an adventurer who went to Alaska and laid the
+foundations of his fortune before the gold hunters arrived. Bringing his
+fortunes to the States he is cheated out of it by a crowd of money
+kings, and recovers it only at the muzzle of his gun. He then starts out
+as a merciless exploiter on his own account. Finally he takes to
+drinking and becomes a picture of degeneration. About this time he falls
+in love with his stenographer and wins her heart but not her hand and
+then&mdash;but read the story!</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">A SON OF THE SUN</span>. Illustrated by A. O. Fischer
+and C. W. Ashley.</p>
+
+<p>David Grief was once a light-haired, blue-eyed youth who came from
+England to the South Seas in search of adventure. Tanned like a native
+and as lithe as a tiger, he became a real son of the sun. The life
+appealed to him and he remained and became very wealthy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">THE CALL OF THE WILD</span>. Illustrations by Philip
+R. Goodwin and Charles Livingston Bull. Decorations by Charles E.
+Hooper.</p>
+
+<p>A book of dog adventures as exciting as any man's exploits could be.
+Here is excitement to stir the blood and here is picturesque color to
+transport the reader to primitive scenes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">THE SEA WOLF</span>. Illustrated by W. J.
+Aylward.</p>
+
+<p>Told by a man whom Fate suddenly swings from his fastidious life into
+the power of the brutal captain of a sealing schooner. A novel of
+adventure warmed by a beautiful love episode that every reader will hail
+with delight.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">WHITE FANG</span>. Illustrated by Charles Livingston
+Bull.</p>
+
+<p>"White Fang" is part dog, part wolf and all brute, living in the
+frozen north; he gradually comes under the spell of man's companionship,
+and surrenders all at the last in a fight with a bull dog. Thereafter he
+is man's loving slave.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset &amp; Dunlap, Publishers,
+New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="thick" />
+
+<hr class="thick p4" />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">novels of frontier life
+by</span><br /> WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE<br /> <span
+class="smcap">handsomely bound in cloth. illustrated.</span></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center smaller"><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for
+Grosset &amp; Dunlap's list.</b></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="u">MAVERICKS.</p>
+
+<p>A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose
+depredations are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range,
+abounds. One of the sweetest love stories ever told.</p>
+
+<p class="u">A TEXAS RANGER.</p>
+
+<p>How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law
+into the mesquit, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of
+thrilling adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed
+through deadly peril to ultimate happiness.</p>
+
+<p class="u">WYOMING.</p>
+
+<p>In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the
+breezy charm of "cattleland," and brings out the turbid life of the
+frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor.</p>
+
+<p class="u">RIDGWAY OF MONTANA.</p>
+
+<p>The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics
+and mining industries are the religion of the country. The political
+contest, the love scene, and the fine character drawing give this story
+great strength and charm.</p>
+
+<p class="u">BUCKY O'CONNOR.</p>
+
+<p>Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with
+the dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash and absorbing
+fascination of style and plot.</p>
+
+<p class="u">CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT.</p>
+
+<p>A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a
+bitter feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most
+unusual woman and her love story reaches a culmination that is fittingly
+characteristic of the great free West.</p>
+
+<p class="u">BRAND BLOTTERS.</p>
+
+<p>A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of
+the frontier, with all its engaging dash and vigor, with a charming love
+interest running through its 320 pages.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset &amp; Dunlap, Publishers,
+New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="thick" />
+
+<hr class="thick p4" />
+
+<p class="center">ZANE GREY'S NOVELS</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center smaller"><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for
+Grosset &amp; Dunlap's list.</b></p>
+
+<hr /> <p class="u">THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS</p>
+
+<p>A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center of
+frontier warfare. Her loyal superintendent rescues her when she is
+captured by bandits. A surprising climax brings the story to a
+delightful close.</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE RAINBOW TRAIL</p>
+
+<p>The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the great
+western uplands&mdash;until at last love and faith awake.</p>
+
+<p class="u">DESERT GOLD</p>
+
+<p>The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends
+with the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to the
+girl who is the story's heroine.</p>
+
+<p class="u">RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE</p>
+
+<p>A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon
+authority ruled. The prosecution of Jane Withersteen is the theme of the
+story.</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN</p>
+
+<p>This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo
+Jones, known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona
+desert and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of deep canons and giant
+pines."</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT</p>
+
+<p>A lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a
+young New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl
+shall become the second wife of one of the Mormons&mdash;Well, that's
+the problem of this great story.</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE SHORT STOP</p>
+
+<p>The young hero, tiring of his factory grind, starts out to win fame
+and fortune as a professional ball player. His hard knocks at the start
+are followed by such success as clean sportsmanship, courage and honesty
+ought to win.</p>
+
+<p class="u">BETTY ZANE</p>
+
+<p>This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful
+young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers.</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE LONE STAR RANGER</p>
+
+<p>After killing a man in self defense, Buck Duane becomes an outlaw
+along the Texas border. In a camp on the Mexican side of the river, he
+finds a young girl held prisoner, and in attempting to rescue her,
+brings down upon himself the wrath of her captors and henceforth is
+hunted on one side by honest men, on the other by outlaws.</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE BORDER LEGION</p>
+
+<p>Joan Randle, in a spirit of anger, sent Jim Cleve out to a lawless
+Western mining camp, to prove his mettle. Then realizing that she loved
+him&mdash;she followed him out. On her way, she is captured by a bandit
+band, and trouble begins when she shoots Kells, the leader&mdash;and
+nurses him to health again. Here enters another romance&mdash;when Joan,
+disguised as an outlaw, observes Jim, in the throes of dissipation. A
+gold strike, a thrilling robbery&mdash;gambling and gun play carry you
+along breathlessly.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="u">THE LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS,</span><br /> By Helen
+Cody Wetmore and Zane Grey</p>
+
+<p>The life story of Colonel William F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill," as told by
+his sister and Zane Grey. It begins with his boyhood in Iowa and his
+first encounter with an Indian. We see "Bill" as a pony express rider,
+then near Fort Sumter as Chief of the Scouts, and later engaged in the
+most dangerous Indian campaigns. There is also a very interesting
+account of the travels of "The Wild West" Show. No character in public
+life makes a stronger appeal to the imagination of America than "Buffalo
+Bill," whose daring and bravery made him famous.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset &amp; Dunlap, Publishers,
+New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="thick" />
+
+<hr class="thick p4" />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">stories of rare charm by</span><br
+/> GENE STRATTON-PORTER</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center smaller"><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for
+Grosset &amp; Dunlap's list.</b></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="u">MICHAEL O'HALLORAN</span>. Illustrated by Frances
+Rogers.</p>
+
+<p>Michael is a quick-witted little Irish newsboy, living in Northern
+Indiana. He adopts a deserted little girl, a cripple. He also assumes
+the responsibility of leading the entire rural community upward and
+onward.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">LADDIE</span>. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.</p>
+
+<p>This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The
+story is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family,
+but it is concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love
+affairs of older members of the family. Chief among them is that of
+Laddie and the Princess, an English girl who has come to live in the
+neighborhood and about whose family there hangs a mystery.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">THE HARVESTER</span>. Illustrated by W. L.
+Jacobs.</p>
+
+<p>"The Harvester," is a man of the woods and fields, and if the book
+had nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be
+notable. But when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods," there begins a
+romance of the rarest idyllic quality.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">FRECKLES</span>. Illustrated.</p>
+
+<p>Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which
+he takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great
+Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to
+the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with "The
+Angel" are full of real sentiment.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST</span>. Illustrated.</p>
+
+<p>The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, loveable type
+of the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness
+towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of
+her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and
+unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW</span>. Illustrations in
+colors.</p>
+
+<p>The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The
+story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love.
+The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and
+its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all.</p>
+
+<p><span class="u">THE SONG OF THE CARDINAL</span>. Profusely
+illustrated.</p>
+
+<p>A love idea of the Cardinal bird and his mate, told with delicacy and
+humor.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset &amp; Dunlap, Publishers,
+New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="thick" />
+
+<hr class="thick p4" />
+
+<p class="center">MYRTLE REED'S NOVELS</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center smaller"><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for
+Grosset &amp; Dunlap's list.</b></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="u">LAVENDER AND OLD LACE.</p>
+
+<p>A charming story of a quaint corner of New England, where bygone
+romance finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming of
+love to the young people on the staff of a newspaper&mdash;and it is one
+of the prettiest, sweetest and quaintest of old-fashioned love
+stories.</p>
+
+<p class="u">MASTER OF THE VINEYARD.</p>
+
+<p>A pathetic love story of a young girl, Rosemary. The teacher of the
+country school, who is also master of the vineyard, comes to know her
+through her desire for books. She is happy in his love till another
+woman comes into his life. But happiness and emancipation from her many
+trials come to Rosemary at last. The book has a touch of humor and
+pathos that will appeal to every reader.</p>
+
+<p class="u">OLD ROSE AND SILVER.</p>
+
+<p>A love story,&mdash;sentimental and humorous,&mdash;with the plot
+subordinate to the character delineation of its quaint people and to the
+exquisite descriptions of picturesque spots and of lovely, old, rare
+treasures.</p>
+
+<p class="u">A WEAVER OF DREAMS.</p>
+
+<p>This story tells of the love-affairs of three young people, with an
+old-fashioned romance in the background. A tiny dog plays an important
+role in serving as a foil for the heroine's talking ingeniousness. There
+is poetry, as well as tenderness and charm, in this tale of a weaver of
+dreams.</p>
+
+<p class="u">A SPINNER IN THE SUN.</p>
+
+<p>An old-fashioned love story, of a veiled lady who lives in solitude
+and whose features her neighbors have never seen. There is a mystery at
+the heart of the book that throws over it the glamour of romance.</p>
+
+<p class="u">THE MASTER'S VIOLIN.</p>
+
+<p>A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German
+virtuoso consents to take for his pupil a handsome youth who proves to
+have an aptitude for technique, but not the soul of an artist. The youth
+cannot express the love, the passion and the tragedies of life as can
+the master. But a girl comes into his life, and through his passionate
+love for her, he learns the lessons that life has to give&mdash;and his
+soul awakes.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset &amp; Dunlap, Publishers,
+New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="thick" />
+
+<p class="p4"></p>
+
+<div class="tnote"> <h3>Transcriber's Note:</h3>
+
+<p>Punctuation has been made consistent.</p>
+
+<p>Dialect, alternate and obsolete
+spellings were not changed. Words ending in '-ise' and '-sing' instead
+of the more usual '-ize' and '-zing' were  not changed, e.g. realise
+instead of realize.</p>
+<p>The remaining changes are indicated by
+dotted lines under the text.  Scroll the mouse over the word and the
+original text will <ins title="Original reads 'apprear'">
+appear</ins>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 36428-h.txt or 36428-h.zip *******</p>
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+</pre>
+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Soul of Susan Yellam, by Horace Annesley
+Vachell
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Soul of Susan Yellam
+
+
+Author: Horace Annesley Vachell
+
+
+
+Release Date: June 14, 2011  [eBook #36428]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Carol Brown, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM
+
+by
+
+HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL
+
+Author of
+Some Happenings, Quinneys,
+Blinds Down, Loot, etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: printer's decoration]
+
+New York
+Grosset & Dunlap
+Publishers
+
+Copyright, 1918,
+By George H. Doran Company
+
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+  TO THE MEMORY OF
+  MY SON
+  RICHARD TANFIELD VACHELL
+  CAPTAIN, FIFTH FUSILIERS
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                           PAGE
+
+      I MOTHER AND SON                11
+
+     II FANCY BROOMFIELD              27
+
+    III INTRODUCING MRS. MUCKLOW      42
+
+     IV LE PAYS DU TENDRE             57
+
+      V UNCLE                         70
+
+     VI FIRST IMPRESSIONS             86
+
+    VII SECOND IMPRESSIONS           101
+
+   VIII RECRUITING                   116
+
+     IX PARSON'S METHODS             130
+
+      X FANCY'S ORDEAL               144
+
+     XI THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS       160
+
+    XII THE EMPTY PEW                174
+
+   XIII FANCY CONSULTS THE CARDS     190
+
+    XIV HYMENEAL                     203
+
+     XV LEANNESS OF SOUL             217
+
+    XVI SAINT WILLUM                 234
+
+   XVII FOOL-WISDOM                  248
+
+  XVIII MISSING!                     263
+
+    XIX SUSPENSE                     279
+
+     XX THE TRAVELLER RETURNS        294
+
+
+
+
+THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM
+
+
+
+
+THE
+SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+MOTHER AND SON
+
+
+The village church at Nether-Applewhite has been described as an
+interesting chapter in ecclesiastical architecture. It stands a little
+apart from the cottages upon a hill which presents something of the
+appearance of a tumulus. Part of the church is Norman, but to the
+uninstructed the outside has been mellowed by time and weather into a
+charming homogeneity. It was embellished early in the eighteenth century
+by the addition of a brick tower. The inside is likely to challenge even
+the uncritical eye. The transept is as long as the nave, and two large
+galleries arrest attention in the west end. Overlooking the chancel is
+the Squire's pew, a sort of royal opera-box, provided with chairs, a
+table, and a fireplace, not to mention a private entrance. Opposite to
+this, across the chancel, stands a three-decker pulpit of
+seventeenth-century woodwork, with a fine hexagonal canopy. On the north
+side of the steps to the chancel is a mutilated fifteenth-century
+screen.
+
+Squire and parson can see every member of the congregation.
+
+There are large pews in nave and transept occupied by the gentry and
+farmers, and many small pews which--although the seats in the church are
+spoken of as "free"--have been used habitually by certain cottagers. One
+of these pews in the nave was known as the Yellam pew. Sunday after
+Sunday, rain or shine, Susan Yellam sat bolt upright in her pew. Her
+son, Alfred, sat beside her. Mother and son were never guilty of missing
+a response, or of looking behind them, or of failing to contribute
+something in copper to the offertory plate. If a stranger happened to be
+conducting the service, and if he was so lost to a sense of duty as to
+display unseemly haste, Mrs. Yellam's voice might be heard, loud and
+clear, setting the proper pace. At the end of every prayer, her "Amen"
+came to be accepted, even by the young and thoughtless, as a grace and
+benediction. Always she wore decent black, as became a woman who had
+buried--in the churchyard outside--a husband and three children. But her
+Easter bonnet had a touch of mauve in it.
+
+Her clothes were not the least part of a tremendous personality.
+Children believed that she went to bed in her black gown. Authority
+exuded from every pore of her skin. Probably Boadicea was cast in just
+such a generous mould. She possessed, as will be seen presently, that
+British cocksureness which so endears us to foreigners. Her particular
+views upon religion, politics, ethics and agriculture (she tended her
+own garden admirably)--views constantly aired for the benefit of her
+neighbours--had become indurated by use. They had stood, as she informed
+all and sundry, the test of time and experience. The Parson, Mr. Hamlin,
+observed of her that she was temperamentally incapable of detecting the
+defects of her great qualities. She supported Squire and Parson in all
+that they said or did, and after the gracious lady of the manor was the
+most respected woman in Nether-Applewhite.
+
+Upon a certain Sunday in June, 1914, Susan Yellam sat as usual in her
+pew. Across the aisle, higher up, sat the Squire's servants, and behind
+them the Parson's three maids. Before the service began, Mrs. Yellam
+noticed that one of the maids was a stranger and not country-bred. The
+girl flaunted no finery, but the cut of her modest skirt and jacket
+proclaimed her urban. Mrs. Yellam guessed that this was Mr. Hamlin's new
+parlourmaid from Old Sarum. She might be described as pretty, but
+"peaky" and "spindling." The Squire preached eugenics, in and out of
+season, and upon the subject of young females as potential mothers Mrs.
+Yellam saw eye to eye with that genial autocrat. However, she consoled
+herself with the reflection that Nether-Applewhite air and good plain
+food would accomplish a much needed change. She hoped that the girl
+would not smirk or giggle if old Captain Davenant read the lessons, an
+infallible test in propriety for strangers. And she wondered vaguely
+what Alfred would think of her. For a season, Alfred had "walked out"
+with this young woman's predecessor, a bouncing, red-cheeked lass of the
+village. Nothing had come of such perambulations. Alfred was what the
+French term "un celebataire endurci." And he was made extremely
+comfortable at home. But he had passed his thirtieth year, and of late
+his mother had hinted discreetly that her cottage, larger than most,
+could accommodate three persons--or more.
+
+Her thoughts were distracted from the new parlourmaid by the arrival of
+the Squire and his party. All eyes in the church were concentrated upon
+the Squire's only son, Lionel, who brought with him his young wife,
+Joyce, the daughter of Mr. Hamlin. Mrs. Yellam knew that this had been a
+love-match, brought to a happy issue against opposition. It was known,
+also, that Master Lionel had left his regiment, the Rifle Brigade, and
+was installed as his sire's land agent. Tongues had wagged freely
+concerning a young soldier's competence for such a position. But Mrs.
+Yellam had firm faith in the lords of the soil. Master Lionel, in her
+opinion, had done the real right thing, both in his choice of a wife and
+of a calling. Perhaps to her the call of the land sounded a more clarion
+note than any other.
+
+Mr. Hamlin and the choir filed in. The congregation rose. In the days of
+Mr. Hamlin's predecessor, nobody budged from his comfortable seat when
+the parson bustled out of the vestry. Mr. Hamlin had changed all that.
+He put down billing and cooing in the galleries, and the sucking of
+peppermints. At first he was regarded with hostile eyes as an innovator,
+but gradually it became known that he had restored forms and ceremonies
+which presented definite meaning to the instructed. Villagers love forms
+and ceremonies when they are discreetly led to understand them.
+
+Old Captain Davenant read the lessons, and the new parlourmaid emerged
+triumphant from the ordeal. Mrs. Yellam noticed, too, that she joined in
+the responses, and sang the hymns in a modestly restrained, clear,
+musical voice. Later, she listened attentively to the sermon. So far, so
+good. At the same time, it became obvious to the mother that her son,
+even more than herself, was impressed by the deportment and behaviour of
+this pretty stranger. During the psalms Alfred's eyes strayed too often
+across the narrow aisle, and at sounds of a soft, beguiling voice he
+opened his mouth and left it open for a significant space of time.
+
+After church, Mrs. Yellam walked home by herself, exchanging sober
+greetings with her neighbours. Alfred lingered in the churchyard, as was
+his custom, because, being a carrier, he captured a little extra trade
+thereby. Also, although a confirmed bachelor, he liked to bandy
+pleasantries with the women, young and old, who were indeed his
+principal customers.
+
+Mrs. Yellam, having curtsied respectfully to the Squire and his lady,
+moved majestically along the village street. As she passed the baker's a
+savoury odour of baked meats assailed her nostrils. It is said that
+smell affects the memory potently. So long as she could remember, Susan
+Yellam had connected this smell of baked meat with Divine Service. As a
+child she had fetched her Sunday dinner from the grandfather of the
+present baker, and, always, as a reward, her mother had given her a
+large lollipop. After she married, her Sunday dinner was cooked for her
+in the same oven and carried to her cottage by a small maid, who, then
+and there, received and consumed an immense bull's-eye. And it seemed to
+Mrs. Yellam a very fitting and proper thing that on Sunday the flesh
+should be as adequately nourished as the spirit. Invariably, also, on
+passing the baker's, she experienced a mournful pleasure in recalling
+her late husband's remarkable appetite. Alfred, as a trencherman, was no
+degenerate son of such a sire.
+
+When she reached the bend of the road, which skirts the placid Avon, she
+saw her cottage and smiled pleasantly. It was thatched, and on that
+account beloved by elderly spinsters who drew in water-colour, and
+frowned upon by sanitary inspectors. The thatch, a masterpiece of
+craftsmanship, surmounted whitewashed walls held together by stout oak
+beams black as the Ace of Spades. Generations of Yellams had lived and
+died in this cottage. Some might have lived longer--so said the sanitary
+inspectors--if the Avon, inconsiderate stream, had never overflowed its
+banks, making thereby an island of the cottage and its garden.
+
+She entered her house, and walked into the parlour, rarely used. Upon a
+round table near the window was an immense family Bible. Mrs. Yellam
+placed her prayer-book beside it, and turned to go into the kitchen,
+which served as a living-room for herself and her son. Suddenly she
+paused, went back to the table, and opened the Bible. It had belonged to
+Alfred's great-grandfather. Upon a fly-leaf were many names and
+dates--births, marriages and deaths. Her eyes lingered upon Alfred's
+name.
+
+Alfred Habakkuk Yellam, born November 19th, 1883.
+
+Alfred's father had objected to the name Habakkuk. But Alfred's mother
+had her way. A favourite brother had been so christened.
+
+She closed the Book. Yes; it was fully time that Alfred should marry.
+She wondered what name would be inscribed beside his.
+
+At the kitchen door she found waiting a small Hebe carrying a beef-steak
+pudding in a basin done up in a white napkin. Mrs. Yellam took the
+pudding from the child, placed it in the oven, after removing the
+napkin, and said wonderingly:
+
+"Whatever be you waiting for?"
+
+Hebe grinned. Young children love old jokes. Mrs. Yellam took from a
+shelf a large green bottle, shook it, and produced the expected
+bull's-eye. Hebe opened wide her mouth. Mrs. Yellam popped in the sweet.
+Hebe raced away to her own dinner. Mrs. Yellam, holding the bottle in
+her hand, stood still for a minute, watching the diminutive, diminishing
+figure till it was lost to sight. Then she turned and contemplated her
+garden smiling beneath a June sun. The midsummer heat still held
+deliciously the freshness of spring. The pervasive charm of the glorious
+month was at its highest pitch. And this stout, red-cheeked woman,
+nearing her sixtieth year, was subtly conscious of this, although
+incapable of putting thoughts into words. But dominating her sense of
+the beauty of things there remained an even more immeasurable
+satisfaction common to all women when they survey their belongings,
+great or small, a fundamental pride in possession which Tory statesmen,
+denying the vote to these supermen, have failed to take into wise
+account. Women are basically conservative, even the humblest of them.
+They cling to property, to tradition; they love the deep lanes, the very
+ruts along which they move; they clutch to their bosoms all that is
+truly theirs, beginning, of course, with their own children.
+
+At this moment, the Squire of the parish, Sir Geoffrey Pomfret, happened
+to be surveying his domain as seen from his own front door. And he had
+less reason behind a pride in great possession than Susan Yellam,
+inasmuch as his broad acres were an inheritance. Every vegetable and
+flower in the Yellam garden had been planted and tended by the
+proprietress. They were perfect in her eyes because of this. She had
+precisely the same feeling about Alfred, her son, whom she perceived
+leisurely approaching the comfortable home that she had made for him.
+
+She went indoors and busied herself with preparations for the most
+substantial meal of the week.
+
+Alfred quickened his pace as he approached the small stable which held
+his two serviceable horses and the van which plied regularly between
+Nether-Applewhite and Old Sarum. He, too, on entering the stable, paused
+to survey his possessions, but not with the same complacency which might
+have been seen upon his mother's face. Alfred loved his horses, and his
+roomy van balked dearer to him than he would have cared to admit,
+certainly as dear as the full-length Reynolds portrait in the
+dining-room of Pomfret Court was to the Squire. Both Sir Geoffrey and he
+knew that portrait and van must be sacrificed upon the altar of
+necessity. Sir Geoffrey needed twenty thousand pounds to reduce a
+crippling mortgage; Alfred, if he intended to keep and improve a good
+business, must advance with the times to the rattle of a motor. And, of
+late, whenever his mind had grappled with this insistent problem, he had
+noticed that the old van creaked more than usual, as if in protest.
+
+Alfred fed his horses, patted their shining necks, and went into the
+cottage to "clean up." Splashing mightily, he smelt the beef-and-kidney
+pudding. Five minutes afterwards, Mrs. Yellam said grace. Mother and son
+ate in silence till the meal was nearly over. Then Mrs. Yellam asked a
+question:
+
+"What be the name, Alferd, o' the new maid over to Vicarage?"
+
+"Fancy Broomfield."
+
+"Fancy! Wherever did she come by such a finical name as that?"
+
+"I don't know, Mother."
+
+Mrs. Yellam continued, in a slightly aggressive tone:
+
+"I never was one to hold with queer onChristian names. It's silly, too,
+to call girls by names o' flowers. Look at Lily Pavey!"
+
+"I never do," affirmed Alfred.
+
+"Dark-complected, and no better than she should be. An' that there Rose
+Mucklow--! More like a gert carrot, seemin'ly."
+
+Alfred, having enjoyed "advantages," did not use the dialect of
+Wiltshire, seldom heard now except from the elderly villagers. As became
+a carrier accustomed to pick his way through country lanes, he seldom
+argued with his mother, partly because he knew that her tongue was
+sharper than his, partly, also, because he travelled, mentally, along
+lines of less resistance. On this occasion, he said curtly:
+
+"I like Fancy."
+
+"The name or the maid?" asked his mother quickly.
+
+"Both. The name seems to match the maid."
+
+"Why, Alferd, whatever do 'ee know about her?"
+
+"I brought her from Salisbury. A rare talker; she sat beside me, she
+did, and talked free and pleasant, as--as a throstle sings."
+
+His mother eyed him sharply. Alfred, as a rule, disdained flowers of
+speech. She proceeded more warily:
+
+"If so be as you know all about her, let's hear what's to tell. I'll say
+this, she behaves herself in church."
+
+This commendation loosened Alfred's tongue, as was intended. Very
+leisurely, between immense mouthfuls of bread and cheese, he told an
+artless tale. Fancy, it appeared, was the youngest daughter of a small
+farrier in Salisbury, and the first of three daughters to take service.
+Her father enjoyed poor health. At this Mrs. Yellam sniffed. She held
+strong opinions, like the Squire, upon eugenics. If put to it, she might
+have admitted that ill-health was apportioned by Providence to the less
+deserving. Dissenters, in her experience, suffered more from mysterious
+ailments than Church-people. Draughty, jerry-built Chapels were
+handicraft of Satan. Alfred continued. Fancy had chosen a country place,
+because she was none too robust.
+
+"Peaky and spindlin'," remarked Mrs. Yellam. "Is her mother alive?"
+
+"The pore soul gave up the ghost when Fancy was born."
+
+"That's very bad, Alferd."
+
+Alfred, no pessimist, answered cheerfully:
+
+"Might have been worse, Mother."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+Alfred grinned.
+
+"She might have died before Fancy was born, and then there'd be one
+pretty maid the less in Nether-Applewhite to-day."
+
+"Gracious! She do seem to find favour with 'ee. 'Tis wicked to wager
+money on't, but I'll lay a pound o' good butter, Alferd, that you
+disremember Mr. Hamlin's text this marning."
+
+"You'd win that bet, Mother. I'm bothered and moithered to death."
+
+"About this white-faced maid, Alferd?"
+
+"About my old van. About the horses, too. I'm far-seeing, Mother. Get
+that from you, I reckon. Yesterday, in Salisbury, I did take upon myself
+the very hateful job of looking at a motor-'bus."
+
+Mrs. Yellam sighed. Fancy flew out of her capacious mind.
+
+"What be us coming to, Alferd!"
+
+"I don't know. But I'm always one to make a guess. My son, maybe, 'll be
+a carrier, like his father and granfer before him; likely as not he'll
+want to sell the motor-'bus and buy a flying-machine. We all march on
+and on."
+
+"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"
+
+Mrs. Yellam gazed mournfully at her son. As a Christian soldier she
+believed devoutly in "marching on," but such marching implied a
+leisurely procession, not excess speed. She hated motors, because they
+rushed by, covering the foot-passengers with dust or mud according to
+the season. She had, too, an inchoate aversion to all machinery, because
+it minimised and mocked at human labour, which she respected
+inordinately. Machinery had driven able-bodied men overseas to return no
+more. She had seen certain cunning handicrafts wither and die. For
+instance, how many thatchers were left? Machinery, so she believed, had
+raised the cost of living; machinery--the ubiquitous locomotive--linked
+together disastrously town and country, filling the minds of maids with
+what she called "flummery" and covering their bodies with cheap finery.
+Machinery, had you probed her heart to its depths, manufactured free
+thought, and everything else that lured God-fearing persons from the old
+ways. It was, indeed, hateful to think of her Alfred driving a
+motor-'bus.
+
+She exclaimed impulsively:
+
+"Alferd, don't 'ee sell the horses and van."
+
+Alfred scratched his head, looking sheepishly at his mother. He
+understood her very well, and shared most of her cut-and-dried opinions,
+cherishing even her admonitions. All his life he had had good reason to
+respect and admire her sterling common sense, less rare amongst
+Arcadians than is generally supposed. He replied uneasily:
+
+"That means losing good business, Mother. Folks want more and more
+nowadays, and they want it in a hurry."
+
+"Leave well alone, Alferd."
+
+"Suppose well can't be left alone? I ain't one to complain; I'm grateful
+to the Lord for His blessings, but if another likely young feller
+started a motor-'bus, he'd down-scramble me."
+
+"I allow you knows best about that."
+
+She sighed again. He could see that she was profoundly affected. He went
+on very slowly, thinking as he spoke:
+
+"And there's others.... You rub it well into me that this cottage'd hold
+more than a man and his mother. If I bring the others here, I must think
+of them. I'd like to do handsomely by them as come after us. Mother,"
+his voice trembled a little, "it's more to me than you think for, but
+the old van must go. Our folk won't stay homealong. I'll do a big
+business carrying people instead of parcels."
+
+Mrs. Yellam rose.
+
+"If you give me they others, Alferd, I'll put up with this wondersome
+change. God's ways be our ways, if we look humbly into 'em. I did hear
+tell t'other day of a motor-hearse. Don't 'ee carry me to my grave in
+one!"
+
+Alfred solemnly reassured her, and began to fill his pipe.
+
+As a rule, he took a Sunday nap after dinner, whilst his mother was
+washing up. At three, he would stroll along the village street,
+combining business with pleasure, picking up gossip and booking orders
+for the coming week. Later, he might walk in the park with a companion,
+not always of the opposite sex. He liked a wit-sharpening talk with a
+man, sensible, perhaps, that his own wits had not too sharp an edge to
+them. The women of the village were unanimous in pronouncing him a true
+Yellam. All the men of his family were good to look on--stoutly-built
+fellows, broad-sterned and broad-shouldered, slow of speech and
+movement, slow, too, to wrath, patient under adversity and modest under
+prosperity, solid and stolid, kind to animals and children, and racy of
+the soil.
+
+Upon this particular Sunday, Alfred took the high-road earlier than
+usual. Fate, rather than inclination, directed his steps towards the
+Vicarage. For the moment his van and a pair of horses filled his mind.
+Back of these lay a pleasant wish to pass the time of day with Fancy
+Broomfield. No doubt she was feeling very homesick. He wondered what she
+would have to say upon the subject of motor-'buses. He divined in her a
+vein of sentiment, which appealed to him the more strongly because it
+was absent in the red-cheeked, bouncing girl whom he had considered,
+temporarily, as a future wife. From her he had escaped--thank the Lord!
+
+Alfred reached the village in five minutes. It was a source of pride to
+his mother and himself that their cottage was isolated. Such isolation
+carried with it a certain distinction, an immunity from derisive comment
+upon the Monday's washing, and the shrill voices of scolding wives, and
+the howling of babies. The Yellams' cottage always smelled sweet. There
+were no neighbours to pop in at unseasonable hours to borrow
+unconsidered trifles which they had no intention of returning.
+
+Nether-Applewhite was regarded by the Squire as a model village,
+delightfully old-fashioned in appearance but brought up-to-date by a
+judicious expenditure of time and money. The passing traveller admired
+the width of the main street which meandered north and south, following
+the course of the Avon. Some of the cottages had been built in the
+sixteenth century, or, possibly, at an even earlier date. Some were, as
+obviously, modern, but not, on that account, unpleasing to the more
+critical, for harmony had been aimed at and achieved. The high note--_la
+note qui chante_--was the curious thatching of the roofs, some of them
+miracles of cunning craftsmanship. The tiny gardens blazed with colour,
+because the lady of the manor loved flowers and bestowed handsome
+prizes, each year, upon the most successful of many competitors. Stocks,
+red-hot-pokers, larkspur, polyanthus, peonies and dahlias caught the eye
+which was lured back to the humbler beauties of mignonette,
+forget-me-not, love-in-idleness, and a generous profusion of roses.
+
+Few villagers were abroad, but Alfred Yellam bagged a brace of orders
+and exchanged banter with half-a-dozen young men loafing near the main
+bridge across the Avon. Amongst these happened to be a soldier, looking
+very smart in a kilt and white spats. Soldiers were not too highly
+esteemed in Nether-Applewhite. This particular specimen was the son of a
+notorious poacher, and till now regarded by the fathers of the hamlet as
+a ne'er-do-well. To-day, he carried himself handsomely, turning a bold,
+bronzed face upon all beholders. He spoke civilly to Alfred and enquired
+after his mother. He had just come back from India with his regiment,
+and was entertaining an appreciative audience with Eastern tales spiced
+like the breezes that blow from Ceylon.
+
+Alfred listened to him, marvelling at the change in the man. Presently,
+he essayed a mild jest:
+
+"You were a rare runner after the petticoats, Harry, but I never thought
+you'd live to wear 'em."
+
+Bucolic laughter greeted this sally. Harry laughed as gaily as the
+others.
+
+"You may come to it, Alfred Yellam, if what I hear tell of comes true."
+
+"And whatever might that be, Harry?"
+
+"War, Alfred, war such as you fellers never dreamed of."
+
+"What a tale!"
+
+Harry surveyed the group critically:
+
+"A bit o' drill'd make men o' some of 'ee." He broke into a lusty
+barrack-room ditty--
+
+     "It's One--Two--ten times a day,
+     And now that you 'ave got it,
+     Don't yer give it away--!
+     ONE--TWO--ten times a day,
+     When I was in the timid, orkard squad, boys."
+
+Alfred said solemnly:
+
+"I ain't one to deny that wars may come. And you were always a good
+fighter, Harry, but we are men o' peace."
+
+"Ay," said one of the group, "I never did fancy soldierin'."
+
+Alfred said slily:
+
+"William ain't yet forgiven a Hampshire redcoat who walked out and off,
+by Golly! with his girl."
+
+Having fired this shot, Alfred walked on. In his mind he turned over the
+thought of war, such a war as he, indeed, had never dreamed of in
+maddest nightmare. And the words and tune of the barrack-room ditty
+echoed through the cells of his brain. He wondered vaguely whether he
+could stick such dire discipline--ten times a day. Wouldn't he up and
+smite the sergeant to mother earth with his big fists, which clenched
+themselves at the mere thought of such a treadmill? Then he reflected
+comfortably that England's fleet sailed gloriously between him and such
+a possibility. The Squire belonged to the blue-water school. So did the
+Parson. Alfred muttered to himself:
+
+"They talk that way because they know no better, pore souls!"
+
+A carrier had other things to worry about.
+
+Approaching the Vicarage by the back way, he heard a woman's voice. He
+stood still. Tender modulations fluttered, like doves of peace, out of
+the pantry window. Alfred smiled.
+
+"'Tis she, the pretty dear! Talks and sings just like a throstle."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+FANCY BROOMFIELD
+
+
+Fancy Broomfield left Salisbury for Nether-Applewhite with a heavy heart
+not hidden by a pathetic smile. Possibly Alfred Yellam had a glimpse of
+unshed tears, when she took her place beside him in his van. And his
+ears may have caught a poignant note of distress quavering now and again
+beneath her prattle. Country folk are observant, although they keep
+their observations to themselves. Fancy had been happy at home. When she
+took a place in Salisbury, in the time-honoured Cathedral Close, she saw
+her people frequently. As she moved farther from Salisbury, she was
+grievously conscious of what separation from her father included. The
+fact that he was failing in health, and therefore in fortune, punctuated
+her misgivings. Alfred won her confidence with a few curt words about
+her new place and its master. He did not mention her bouncing
+predecessor, but he talked of the Parson and his household with the
+incisive tones of one who knew. What he said was reassuring. Most
+maidservants approach a new place with justifiable apprehensions
+concerning the mistress. In this case there was no mistress. Possibly
+disagreeable fellow-servants may arouse even livelier forebodings. A
+cook, for example, holds the keys of Heaven and Hell in her hands. Fancy
+had envisaged an immense cook with a great red face, and a liver swollen
+to atrabiliar disproportions. She was pleased to learn that the autocrat
+of the Parson's kitchen was not much larger than herself and
+consistently amiable.
+
+"Parson preaches against sour faces," said Alfred. "No yapping and
+snarling in his house. From your looks, you ain't one to come
+slummicking in after hours with a silly tale about being took all over
+queer when out walking."
+
+"My! no," affirmed Fancy.
+
+Alfred digested this in silence. Fancy had already told him much about
+her family, but she had not mentioned others. Presently, Alfred said
+abruptly:
+
+"Have you got a young man in Salisbury?"
+
+Fancy laughed for the first time, a silvery trickle of laughter.
+
+"Why should you think I have, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"It seems to me likely."
+
+"Well, I am fond of one boy. He's too sweet for anything."
+
+"Is he?"
+
+"Yes, I'd like you to meet him. Maybe I'll show you his photograph one
+fine day. It's in my trunk. He's a sailor-boy, and at sea."
+
+"Ah. At sea, is he? My mother says that a woman is silly to marry a
+sailor. Why? Because, if you love him, he is always at sea, and if you
+hate him, he bides at home."
+
+Fancy laughed again.
+
+"Then my boy, after he marries, will be always at sea. How miserable for
+his wife!"
+
+"It is a fair warning."
+
+"For me, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"I mean, if you marry your sailor-boy."
+
+"But I can't marry my own dear brother."
+
+And then Alfred laughed, Homerically.
+
+Soon afterwards, he left her and a modest box at the Vicarage. She
+thanked him demurely, asking how much she owed him. Alfred was tempted
+to demand a kiss in payment, but a glance at a virginal face restrained
+him. He said, "One shilling, please, miss," and she slipped the coin
+into his ample palm, adding: "It's a new one. That brings luck, don't
+it?" Alfred indulged in no speculations on this point, but when he found
+himself alone, he examined the loose change in his pocket, and picking
+out a new shilling, transferred it to another pocket, wondering
+furtively if he were making a fool of himself. He whistled gaily as he
+drove on.
+
+Fancy was shown to a small room, which pleased her immensely, because no
+other maid shared it with her. From a casemented window, she could see
+the park of Pomfret Court, with its clumps of fine trees and its herds
+of dappled deer. She felt that she would be happy in such a quiet place.
+The room was very simply but comfortably furnished, spotlessly clean and
+fresh. She admired the wall-paper, white with small sprigs of pink roses
+on it. What a lucky girl to have such a nice room! And, approaching the
+Vicarage, she had fallen in love with the many-gabled house standing
+amongst beeches, a warm-looking house of time-mellowed brick, built
+substantially, happily situated below the church and just above the
+village. As she was unpacking, the house-maid, Molly, brought her a cup
+of tea. Being her first day, Fancy was not expected to wait at dinner,
+but Molly told her that after dinner she would be sent for, and that she
+might expect a five-minute chat with her master.
+
+"Is he masterful?" she asked.
+
+Molly nodded, adding confidentially:
+
+"Such a pair of eyes as never was. Gimlets! It ain't no fun lying to
+him, and no use either. He can look bang through a pore girl, and tell
+her what she's had for dinner."
+
+"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Fancy.
+
+"Don't you worry! 'Tis an easy place. No SHE poking and prying about.
+Only we have to be good girls here, and then we're happy."
+
+"I do hope I shall be happy," said Fancy, adding hastily, "I look such a
+fright when I ain't."
+
+After dinner she was duly sent for, and found the Parson walking up and
+down his study. He regarded her austerely, bidding her welcome to his
+house. Fancy noticed at once the keenness of his glance, and the still
+more penetrating quality of his voice. First impressions count
+enormously with sensitive creatures, and young women in Fancy's station
+of life are not much concerned with shades and gradations. To most of
+them men are angels or devils, black or white. Fancy had encountered
+what she called "devils" in Salisbury, rough fellows with Rabelaisian
+jests upon their thick lips. From such she shrank instinctively. Happily
+for her, she had met the other sort in and out of the Cathedral Close.
+Instantly, she acclaimed Mr. Hamlin as angel, a rather terrible angel,
+such as she imagined Saint Michael to be, pitiless to the wicked,
+smiting them hip and thigh with a flaming sword. Her second impression,
+not quite so vivid, was more agreeable. The Parson's clothes were
+shabby, and his study, which, indeed, reflected truthfully the man's
+personality, presented a somewhat bleak aspect. It looked a workshop
+rather than a comfortable room. The cocoanut matting was worn; plain
+deal shelves held innumerable cheaply-bound books; pamphlets were piled
+upon the floor; the chairs, with one exception, were not upholstered.
+She blushed a little as the thought came to her that she, the new
+parlourmaid, not yet in working kit, was the smartest object in her
+master's room.
+
+Mr. Hamlin asked her a few questions. Fancy had good references; she was
+a Churchwoman; she had been confirmed by Sarum himself. She belonged to
+the Girls' Friendly Society. Did she like her work? Yes. Mr. Hamlin
+smiled. For a moment Saint Michael vanished and a less terrifying
+personage stood in his place.
+
+"I like _my_ work," said the Parson incisively. "That is a vital matter.
+Perhaps it is the most vital matter in the world. Each of us has his or
+her work, and if we do it gladly it is well with us. You don't look very
+strong."
+
+"I'm much stronger than I look, sir."
+
+Her soft, deprecating voice brought another smile to the Parson's lips.
+He said abruptly:
+
+"Good. Women need all their strength and reserves of strength. Your work
+here will not be too hard. Spare yourself whenever you reasonably can,
+and so you will serve me and yourself the better. Good-night."
+
+Fancy went away, slightly awed, but feeling much more comfortable.
+Before going to bed, she wrote a short letter to her father, telling him
+that she liked her place. She added a postscript: "Mr. Yellam, the
+carrier, was ever so kind to me."
+
+She slept well in a comfortable bed.
+
+She came to Nether-Applewhite on a Thursday. On the following Sunday, as
+Alfred Yellam had foreseen, she was feeling homesick, because she had
+never failed to see her own people on that day. After luncheon, to
+hearten herself up, she sang hymns in the pantry.
+
+Her face brightened, when she perceived Alfred at the door of the
+pantry. After asking her how she fared, and learning that the other
+maids were "out," he said, in business-like tones:
+
+"Any orders for the carrier?"
+
+Fancy smiled demurely. She was alone in the house. The Parson had a
+Children's Service at three. She guessed that, as a rule, carriers did
+not call for orders at such an hour.
+
+"Not as I know of, Mr. Yellam. Do you generally call for orders on
+Sunday afternoon?"
+
+By this time she had been informed of Alfred's perambulations with her
+predecessor. It might be an honoured custom in Nether-Applewhite for the
+carrier to walk out with the Vicarage parlourmaid. Alfred gave a guffaw.
+
+"Well, no; I took a notion to drop in, casual-like, to pass the time of
+day."
+
+"What would the Vicar say to that?"
+
+"Parson ain't the fearsome man you take him to be. A very human
+gentleman, always welcome in our house. And I make bold to tell you that
+I'm heartily welcome in his."
+
+"If that is so," said Fancy, politely, "won't you sit down, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+She indicated a chair into which Alfred bumped massively, with the air
+of one not to be budged from an impregnable position. Fancy was getting
+ready some dainty tea-things.
+
+"Expecting company, miss?"
+
+"Yes. Mr. Lionel Pomfret and Mrs. Pomfret. A nice tea. Master's orders."
+
+Alfred nodded. He eyed Fancy with ever-increasing approval. A black
+gown, with snowy apron, bib, and cap, became her admirably. Beneath the
+cap her soft brown hair lay in shining ripples; the bib lent extra
+fulness to a too thin bosom; her big hazel eyes sparkled with animation;
+her pale cheeks had a tinge of pink in them. Alfred contrasted her
+delicate features with the exuberant comeliness of the late parlourmaid.
+Charm was not a word very distinctly defined in his vocabulary. But he
+became conscious of Fancy's charm, although he would have called it by
+another name. Certainly she was sweetly pretty, like a rose-leaf which a
+rough wind might blow away. More than aught else, too, he was struck by
+her little hands, which moved deftly and swiftly. He made sure that she
+was a good needlewoman. Such hands could make light pastry. All this
+pleased him tremendously. Fancy prattled on about the company expected,
+telling Alfred what he knew already, but he listened in silence,
+captivated by her voice. She cut dexterously some thin slices of brown
+bread-and-butter, as she spoke of the love-match between Squire's son
+and Parson's daughter.
+
+"I am looking forward to waiting on them," she declared.
+
+"Yes--a very handsome, notable couple. Squire'll be a granfer before he
+knows where he is."
+
+"What things you do say, Mr. Yellam!"
+
+"Ah-h-h! In my common way, I say what I think, never meaning offence,
+particularly to young maids, but 'tis a fact Sir Geoffrey is fair aching
+for grandchildren, the more the merrier. 'Twould be terrible if his
+house and lands passed to some measly next-of-kin. But we won't think of
+that."
+
+"No. Not yet, at any rate."
+
+Alfred felt reproved but not disconcerted. It might be politic to change
+the talk to motor-'buses, so he said abruptly:
+
+"I'm in a fair sweat, Miss Fancy."
+
+"Mercy me! Shall I fetch you a glass of water?"
+
+"Figure of speech, miss. It's like this, if you'll excuse me talking of
+my own affairs."
+
+"Why, I like that. It's so--so friendly of you, Mr. Yellam."
+
+"I'm standing betwixt the devil and the deep sea."
+
+"Well, I never!"
+
+He gazed so earnestly at Fancy that she wondered if she were the deep
+sea, and that the devil was an allusion to the late parlourmaid. Alfred
+continued:
+
+"The world, miss, goes round and round for true lovers, but it don't
+stand still for anybody, leastways not for carriers. We must push along
+with the times, eh?"
+
+He glanced at her anxiously. She was quick to perceive that he wanted
+counsel and much flattered thereby. She eyed him as keenly as he, just
+now, had eyed her. Being so frail and attenuated herself, his massive
+form and square head attracted her strangely. She admired his big chin
+and too heavy nose. And her eyes lingered with appreciation upon the
+bulging biceps and deltoids shewing strongly beneath his thin summer
+jacket. What a sad pity that her dear father had not been cast in such a
+mould! To his anxious question, she replied with a little bob of her
+head.
+
+"My father and granfer were carriers before me. Van and horses was good
+enough for them. And good enough for me, too. It tears me to scrap 'em."
+
+"Scrap them?"
+
+"Ay. When you go back home, how'd it suit you to ride in a motor-'bus?"
+
+"It would be grand," said Fancy.
+
+Alfred rubbed his hands; his red face beamed.
+
+"Dang me, if that don't put the lid on it."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"I was half hoping you'd say what you did. Yes--it would be grand. A
+nice 'bus--red and yaller--'d make the neighbours yap a bit. Do you know
+what they call my old van?"
+
+"It's a nice comfortable van."
+
+"So 'tis. But would-be funny folks call it 'Flash o' Lightnin'.'"
+
+Fancy laughed. Alfred decided that it was a treat to hear her laugh.
+
+"Are you angry with me for laughing?"
+
+"Lord--no! A laugh like yours warms the cockles of my heart. Laugh away,
+miss. All the same, there's a meaning in what neighbours say. I do move
+slow, when I've a load. And in winter-time, when roads are heavy, I just
+crawl along. You're right. A motor-'bus _is_ grand. And I can pay cash
+for one, I can."
+
+He spoke with pride, opening his large hands. Fancy, having finished
+cutting the bread-and-butter, sat down opposite to Alfred. With some
+difficulty he mastered the impulse to invite this bird-like creature to
+perch on his knee. Her air of aloofness both pleased and exasperated
+him. She sat very still, with her hands folded upon her lap, just as
+good girls sat in church. Alfred talked with gusto about motor-'buses.
+
+"Can you drive a motor?" asked Fancy, when he paused to mop his forehead
+with a huge red bandana.
+
+"No, miss. But if I say it as shouldn't, I can do most anything when I
+try. They'll teach me in Salisbury--free, gratis and for nothing, if I
+buy the 'bus."
+
+"I do hope you'll be careful, Mr. Yellam."
+
+Alfred was delighted at this mark of solicitude. For the moment nothing
+more was to be said. He searched his mind for another suitable topic of
+conversation. Already he had decided to ask Fancy to walk out with him,
+but he feared a rebuff. It was "up" to him to shew her his paces. Any
+premature love-making might be disastrous. Nevertheless, it behoved him
+to waste no time in making himself agreeable. Half-a-dozen likely young
+fellows would be fluttering about Fancy before the week was out. First
+come, first served. He essayed a fresh flight:
+
+"Coming through village, miss, I met a soldier--'No Account Harry' we
+used to call him. Back from the Indies, and spruced up wonderful."
+
+Fancy exhibited lively interest.
+
+"A soldier, Mr. Yellam! I do like soldiers, because--because----" Her
+voice melted on a silence; her cheeks shewed a deeper pink.
+
+"Do tell, miss. Why do you like--soldiers?"
+
+"You'll think me such a silly."
+
+"Not me. I'm no mumbudgetter. What you tell me I'll keep to myself."
+
+Her eyes dwelt steadily on his. In a lower voice, she asked:
+
+"Do you believe in fortune-telling, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"I don't know as I do. But I don't know as I don't."
+
+"I do. And--maybe the Vicar wouldn't like this--I can tell fortunes
+myself with cards."
+
+"Well, I never!"
+
+"Yes. About three months ago, a lady came to Salisbury and lodged near
+us. She told fortunes with cards; she taught me. She didn't do it for
+money. Now, if you laugh, I'll never forgive you...."
+
+Alfred became portentously solemn.
+
+"The lady told me that I should marry a soldier."
+
+Alfred looked perturbed, but his shrewd sense sustained him.
+
+"Did she? Likely as not she'd seen you walking out with one."
+
+"I have never walked out with a soldier."
+
+Alfred looked unhappy. He thought of the well-set-up Highlander. He
+beheld Fancy hanging on his arm, gazing upward into a bronzed,
+devil-may-care face, listening to strange tales of the Orient. Jealousy
+ravaged him. His dejection deepened when he discovered that his tongue
+had lost the trick of speech. He yearned to speak lightly and
+facetiously about soldiers. But he could think of nothing better than
+this:
+
+"Soldiers are soldiers."
+
+Fancy read him easily. Her father distrusted soldiers, who loved and ran
+away. He had warned her against their beguilements. But Fancy had read
+English history, more intelligently than most girls of similar
+upbringing. She knew what soldiers had done for England. Also, she had
+eye for a bit of colour. Soldiers appealed to her imagination. She put
+sailors first, the jolly tars. Tommy came next, with his swagger cane,
+his jaunty walk, and his cap cocked on one side, shewing a "quiff"
+beneath.
+
+"Why do men, like you, Mr. Yellam, despise soldiers?"
+
+Alfred wriggled, impaled upon this barbed hook. He had wit enough to
+realise that serious issues impended. He might easily offend Fancy. And
+no answer rose pat to his tongue. Why did he despise soldiers? He was
+too honest to deny the indictment. Yes; he did despise soldiers. He
+answered stolidly:
+
+"There are soldiers and soldiers. 'Tis sober truth, miss, that the best
+men in these parts don't enlist. The pay is bad, and the work hard. The
+wrong 'uns take the shilling only when they're driven to it. It may be
+different in Salisbury."
+
+"I don't know that it is. I can understand why men like you, Mr. Yellam,
+don't enlist. Why should you? But that doesn't change my feelings about
+soldiers. Whatever they may have been, whatever they are, I think of
+this: At any moment, with their hard work, with their poor pay, they may
+be called upon to give their lives for--us."
+
+Her soft voice faltered. Perhaps Alfred was already in love. He may have
+been. When her voice failed, and he beheld her for the first time as a
+woman of sensibilities, tender for others, pleading for the less
+fortunate, all that was best in him leaped into being. Nothing but his
+disability to find words for his thoughts prevented him from avowing his
+feelings. He realised instantly that here sat the girl for him, the wife
+he wanted. His experiments in courtship, if you could term it that,
+confirmed his conviction that he had remained single so long simply
+because Fancy was waiting for him. She was absolutely right because the
+others had been as absolutely wrong.
+
+"That's true," he heard himself saying.
+
+Fancy went on in a livelier tone:
+
+"Have you read Kipling, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"I seem to have heard tell of Mr. Rudyard Kipling in the newspapers."
+
+"I want to tell you what he said about soldiers."
+
+She quoted slowly:
+
+     "It's Tommy this, and Tommy that, and Tommy--go away!
+     But it's--Thank you, Mr. Atkins, when the band begins to play."
+
+Alfred was visibly impressed. He recalled the Highlander's words about
+war, such a war as he had never dreamed of. What if the band did begin
+to play? More, it surprised him that Fancy should quote Kipling.
+Obviously, she had enjoyed educational advantages denied to him. She
+spoke like the quality. He began to measure the distance between them,
+conscious of shrinkage in himself. To gain time he repeated her last
+words:
+
+"When the band begins to play! 'No Account Harry' spoke of that, yes, he
+did. But war is for kings and potentates, not for us. As I came along
+river, I says to myself: 'We have peace here, glory be to our noble
+Fleet!' It gives me a mort of comfort thinking of our mighty ships. And
+I remember what Parson said not so long ago. 'You working-men,' he says,
+'are the backbone of England.' And, by Golly! I stiffened myself
+accordingly."
+
+Fancy smiled, and said no more. She glanced at the pantry clock. Alfred
+rose. His face was redder than usual, as he held out his hand. It
+consoled him mightily to reflect that "No Account Harry," by virtue or
+vice of an unsavoury record, would hardly dare to stick his tip-tilted
+nose into the Vicarage.
+
+"So long, Miss Fancy. Would it be called presumption, if I made so bold
+as to ask you to take the air with me next Sunday? 'Tis wonderful pretty
+in the Park, and I'd like to shew you the fat bullocks."
+
+Fancy blushed, for he was squeezing her small hand.
+
+"I should like it very much," she replied simply.
+
+Alfred asked for no more, wise man! He had squeezed her hand, and she
+had not resented it, although her slim fingers lay calm and cool within
+his ardent clasp. She accompanied him to the back door. In the lapel of
+his jacket Alfred sported one of his mother's roses. He presented it to
+Fancy in silence--and fled. As he passed into the park, intending to map
+out a pilgrimage for the following Sunday, he thought complacently:
+
+"I'm a forcible man. Neighbours say that, and 'tis so. She's a dinky
+maid, bless her!"
+
+With eager strides he mounted the gentle slope of the long escarpment
+between Pomfret Vicarage and Pomfret Court, keeping to the right of the
+main drive. The path he followed meandered through a plantation.
+Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a pair of lovers strolling arm in
+crook, with love in their eyes and laughter on their lips. He recognised
+Lionel Pomfret and his bride. Alfred plunged into the hazels and let
+them pass. When the coast was clear he took the path again, skirting the
+Court and the Home Farm, and, ultimately, debouching upon the downs.
+Warmed by his walk, he removed his hat and fanned himself with it. Then
+he sat down and let his eyes wander across the landscape.
+
+How fair it was upon that midsummer's afternoon!
+
+A soft haze slightly obscured the water meadows. Through it he could see
+the Avon, a silvery riband. In the far distance the finest spire in the
+world soared into palely blue skies. The breeze from the land had died
+down. Presently the breeze from the sea would stir, tremulously, the
+grasses at his feet. Sheep were grazing hard by. Some of them rested in
+the shade of the yews which fringed the top of the down. Immediately
+below him stretched the park. Under the clumps of beeches stood the
+fallow deer. Beyond were the lawns of Pomfret Court, flanked by ancient
+elms and oaks and horse-chestnuts. Between the masses of translucent
+foliage, the facade of the house glowed faintly red as if the sunbeams
+penetrating the bricks during nearly four hundred years were now
+radiating from them.
+
+All this to Alfred--and to how many others--was the outward and visible
+sign of peace, a peace sanctified by time and the labour of countless
+hands. That such a peace could be imperilled passed the understanding of
+wiser men than the carrier. Surely it would endure till the end, till
+eternity.
+
+For ever and ever--Amen!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+INTRODUCING MRS. MUCKLOW
+
+
+Susan Yellam rarely left her cottage, and, during week-days, was not too
+cordial to chance visitors. On Sunday afternoon, however, she was at
+home to friends, and hospitably glad to offer them the best cup of tea
+in Nether-Applewhite, and some hot buttered toast which waited for
+nobody. If a too nice stomach disdained buttered toast, the pangs of
+hunger could be alleviated with bread and honey (from the hives in the
+garden) or bread and jam (of Mrs. Yellam's own making). A rich cake was
+in cut.
+
+Mrs. Yellam had been a Mucklow. And her favourite brother, Habakkuk, had
+married a Rockley--all of Nether-Applewhite. Mrs. Mucklow generally
+dropped in on Sunday afternoons, bringing a grievance with her. The
+Mucklows had not prospered like the Yellams and Rockleys. And this was
+the more remarkable because the Mucklow men were fine upstanding
+fellows, reasonably sober, and God-fearing Churchgoers. The ancients of
+the village affirmed that the brains of the family had been served out
+in one lump, and given to Susan Yellam.
+
+Upon the Sunday following Alfred's visit to the Vicarage, Mrs. Mucklow,
+wearing black silk and a bonnet, dropped into the cottage. She was
+taller than her sister-in-law, and very thin. Invariably she disagreed
+with everything said by Mrs. Yellam, and yet, oddly enough, the two
+women remained friends, partly because Susan believed devoutly in the
+ties of blood, and partly because Jane's rather fatuous contradictions
+shed searchlights upon Susan's commonsense. Wisdom is comfortably
+bolstered by the folly of others.
+
+"Well, Jane, how be you?"
+
+Mrs. Mucklow answered dolorously:
+
+"I be no better than I was las' Sunday."
+
+"That's bad."
+
+"No, it ain't. I expected to be worse. Very soon I shall be lying along
+o' Mother. She suffered wi' her innards, pore soul, just as I do."
+
+"She got comfort out of it, too, just as you do, dear. Sit you down, and
+let's hear the news."
+
+Jane Mucklow sighed, and sat down. Unlike her sister-in-law, she strayed
+daily into the cottages of her neighbours, picking up gossip, and
+repeating it with embellishments of her own. As she removed white cotton
+gloves, she said sharply:
+
+"I want your news first, Susan."
+
+"But I haven't any, Jane; nothing, that is to say, which you don't well
+know already."
+
+"Maybe. But I wanted it from your own lips."
+
+"Bless the woman! Whatever do 'ee want?"
+
+"What you prides yourself on giving--information. Don't sit there so
+genteel, and pretend to me that you don't know what your Alferd be up to
+this very minute!"
+
+"I don't--and nor do you."
+
+"Yas, I do. Your Alferd was over to Vicarage las' Sunday. To-day, he's
+traipsin' the Park with Miss Fancy Broomfield."
+
+From her pronunciation of the name, it was quite evident that the young
+person in question was not what diplomats call _gratissima_ to Mrs.
+Mucklow. And the sniff that followed was aggressive. Mrs. Yellam poured
+out a large cup of tea with an impassive face. Inwardly, she winced.
+Alfred had kept his plans to himself, doing so, moreover, in accordance
+with advice well rubbed into him ever since he had affairs of his own to
+attend to. But a mother--and such a mother--might be deemed an exception
+to a golden rule. Mrs. Yellam said calmly:
+
+"Is he? Who is your Rose walking out wi'?"
+
+The question was ungrammatical and unkind. Rose, large, plain, and
+red-headed, sighed for swains who did not walk out with her. She might
+have been comfortably married to Alfred at this minute. The older
+families in Nether-Applewhite fancied intermarriage, much to the
+exasperation of Sir George Pomfret. And so far--the stock being
+exceptionally sound--no great evil had come of this. Within the year
+Prudence Rockley had married her first cousin. In Mrs. Mucklow's opinion
+marriages between near of kin were preferable to alliances with
+outsiders. Town girls, she regarded, not without reason, as hussies.
+
+"My Rose be a good girl, and well you knows it."
+
+"Maybe you have something agen this Fancy Broomfield? If so, Jane, out
+wi' it."
+
+"Townbred girls be all alike."
+
+Mrs. Yellam replied tranquilly:
+
+"I bain't an upholder o' they, but I keep faith in my Alferd's good
+sense and judgment. He's walked out wi' a baker's dozen o' maids afore
+this 'un, and why not? I've allers told Alferd to pick an' choose."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow attacked the buttered toast almost viciously.
+
+"'Tis true, I suppose, that his father's van ain't good enough for
+_your_ son?"
+
+Inwardly Mrs. Yellam winced again. Alfred had made his decision "on his
+own." But she answered as tranquilly as before:
+
+"Seemin'ly it ain't. God A'mighty knows what us be coming to, and He
+don't tell. As a Christian woman I bows afore Him."
+
+Poor Mrs. Mucklow, continually contrasting the prosperity of Alfred with
+the ill-luck, as she deemed it, of her own three sons, sniffed again.
+Not long since the three Mucklows had contemplated emigration to Canada.
+They had been anchored in Nether-Applewhite by Mr. Fishpingle, sometime
+butler to Sir Geoffrey, now bailiff at the Home Farm. They happened to
+pursue avocations such as hurdling, spar-making, hedging and ditching,
+which were precariously dependent upon a demand that varied
+tremendously, a demand that, year by year, shewed inexorable signs of
+failing. And Mrs. Mucklow was uneasily conscious that her sons' ill luck
+was regarded by her sister-in-law as part of a Divine dispensation. In
+the same complacent spirit the good-luck of Alfred became, in Susan
+Yellam's eyes, a mark of Divine favour. It may be imagined how this
+rankled in the heart of a woman who held herself to be as good a
+Christian as her neighbours, and perhaps better. Mrs. Mucklow retorted
+tartly:
+
+"You be allers shovin' your Christian feelin's down our throats, Susan.
+But I say this--you ain't been tried as I hev."
+
+Mrs. Yellam dealt with this drastically.
+
+"I be thankful for God's mercies. I might be less thankful if so be as I
+mixed up my victuals as you do. Faith in A'mighty God have more to do
+wi' the stomach than most folks think on. As for being tried--I tend
+four graves in churchyard to your one."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow's small beady eyes softened.
+
+"Yas--you've had your sore trials, Susan. And the graves be a credit to
+'ee. But I've said it afore, and I say it again, small fam'lies make for
+righteousness. Keepin' my childern in shoe-leather alone took a deal o'
+saintliness out o' me. Be that cake?"
+
+"I hopes so. Have a slice?"
+
+"Your rich cake allers lies heavy on my pore stomach, but 'twould be
+ungenteel to refuse."
+
+Mrs. Yellam cut a large slice. As Mrs. Mucklow consumed it, Mrs. Yellam
+said impressively:
+
+"I'll tell 'ee something, Jane, as betwixt us two. I ain't one to brag
+unduly, and 'tis true that I be proud o' my Christian feelings. For why?
+Because, long ago, I come mighty near to losing 'em."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow gasped; a piece of cake stuck in her throat.
+
+"I never did! Come near to losin' 'em, did 'ee?"
+
+"Yas." Mrs. Yellam's voice became solemn. "When I buried my pore
+husband...."
+
+"That was a rare funeral, Susan. Squire and my lady there, flowers from
+the Hall, a very moving set-out. Was I interrupting of 'ee?"
+
+"You was, Jane, but never mind. As I laid my husband to rest, I says to
+myself: 'The Lard gave and the Lard ha' taken away.'"
+
+"Very proper."
+
+"The pore man suffered so bad with rheumatics that it seemed God's mercy
+to take 'un. He'd no pleasure in life onless he were talking of his
+aches and pains. And allers the misery o' telling me what he'd like to
+eat an' drink--and couldn't. That fair tore him, and me. He was a rare
+doer, like Alferd. When he was taken, I did not rebel."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow was so interested that she suspended operations with the
+cake, awaiting the climax of an astounding tale, arrested by a strange
+expression upon her sister-in-law's face. The pupils of Mrs. Yellam's
+eyes seemed to contract; her lips became set. She continued very
+impressively:
+
+"When my children died, 'twas different. Seemed to me like as if I was
+buryin' part o' myself. 'Twere bad enough when the two boys went, but
+when Lizzie sickened, my own lil' maid, why then, Jane, I did rebel."
+
+"And no wonder!"
+
+"I watched her slippin' away, and I says, 'No more churchgoin'.'"
+
+Mrs. Mucklow repeated the words:
+
+"No more churchgoing--! That, from you? I be shaken to my beam ends."
+
+Mrs. Yellam went on, in the same cold, incisive voice:
+
+"We be told, Jane, that the Lard chastens him whom He loves, but we read
+elsewhere in the holy Book that He chastises them as He hates. When
+Lizzie died I'd the blasphemeous notion that God A'mighty hated me. And
+then my faith went a-flutterin' out o' winder. I lay in bed two Sundays,
+because I dassn't go into my pew. I never spoke to nobody. Yas--I lay
+abed, fighting Satan. He tempted me rarely."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow nodded.
+
+"Ah-h-h! You be tellin' a wondersome tale, Susan. Satan nearly had me,
+near as no matter, when I was a maid. He came gallivantin' along in a
+red coat...."
+
+"A soldier?"
+
+"No, a fox-hunting young gentleman. 'Tis a subject I don't care to think
+about. How did Satan tempt you, Susan?"
+
+"Wi' a brandy-bottle. It stood there makin' eyes at me...."
+
+"For all the world like my young gentleman."
+
+"What saved you, Jane?"
+
+"I dunno'. It might ha' been God A'mighty's grace. It might ha' been
+fear o' consequences.'
+
+"Them two things saved me, Jane. But I calls it one thing. God
+A'mighty's grace made both on us think o' consequences. I says to
+myself: 'What will Alferd do if his mother don't go churchalong? What'll
+happen to him, if his mother be known as a drunkard?' And, there and
+then, Jane, my pore faith come a-flutterin' back, a-shaking its
+feathers, like a hen after a storm o' rain. And the storm was over, too.
+It's been warm and sunny for me ever since. Now you know why I be proud
+o' my Christian feelings."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow nodded and finished her cake. She had begun her second cup
+of tea, when steps were heard upon the stone flags which led from the
+front wicket to the back door.
+
+"'Tis Alferd," said Mrs. Yellam.
+
+"And Miss Fancy Broomfield," added Jane Mucklow. "Come to ask your
+blessing, Susan."
+
+"Fiddle!" replied Mrs. Yellam sharply.
+
+Within a minute, however, it became plain that Alfred wanted nothing
+more exciting than a cup of tea for himself and his companion. They had
+climbed to the top of the down, after visiting Mr. Fishpingle at the
+Home Farm. Miss Broomfield, formally presented to the elder women and as
+formally received, looked pale and tired. Possibly, she divined
+hostility the more penetrating because suppressed. Mrs. Yellam said
+magnificently:
+
+"Please excuse me for welcoming you, Miss Broomfield, in my kitchen."
+
+Fancy smiled.
+
+"What a pretty kitchen!"
+
+The kitchen--as Mrs. Yellam was complacently aware--deserved the
+adjective. It boasted, what is never found in modern cottages, an open
+hearth and ingle-nook. Hams and flitches of bacon were smoked in the
+wide chimney. After such treatment, the hams were hung in a row from a
+big black beam. By the side of the hearth stood a small stove large
+enough to bake modest joints. The window, with diamond-paned casements,
+was deeply recessed, with a red-cushioned seat running round it. The
+dresser, opposite to the hearth, exhibited pewter and some
+willow-pattern pottery. Upon the oak panelling on each side of the
+hearth hung gleaming brass, including an immense warming-pan. The table
+in the middle of the room had been stoutly built of deal. Removing the
+table-cloth, you would have seen a surface scrubbed white as the linen
+cloth. Along the window-sill were pots of geraniums. Even Mrs. Mucklow
+admitted that Queen Mary could eat her dinner off the red tiles of the
+floor.
+
+Mrs. Yellam nodded. Alfred brought a chair for Fancy, but she declared
+her intention of sitting upon one of two stools against the wall.
+
+To her amazement, Alfred said sharply:
+
+"Don't sit on that!"
+
+"Why ever not, Mr. Yellam?"
+
+"'Tis a coffin stool."
+
+Fancy sat down upon the chair he placed for her. Mrs. Mucklow said
+mournfully:
+
+"I wonders, Susan, why you keep they stools in your kitchen."
+
+"And so do I," added Alfred.
+
+Mrs. Yellam answered simply:
+
+"They mind me, Alferd, that in the midst o' life we be wise to think,
+now and again, o' death. Will you remove your hat, Miss Broomfield?"
+
+Fancy did so, slipping off her gloves first. Mrs. Yellam frightened her
+a little. Not quite at ease, she minded her table manners, and behaved
+with a gentility quietly noted and silently commended by the elder
+women. On such occasions, when a stranger happened to be present, Mrs.
+Yellam loved to lead the talk, choosing a subject likely to improve the
+minds of her listeners. The captious may regard this as an unpleasing
+trait. Mrs. Yellam believed that it was more blessed to give than to
+receive instruction. But, listening to Parson or Squire, she imbibed
+such wisdom as fell from their august lips with an attention and an
+intelligence which she exacted from others when she held the floor. Her
+first duty, as hostess, was to see that her guest made a good tea, the
+sort of tea, obviously, that she did not get at home. Fancy, however,
+trifled with her food, being overtired, and positively refused to eat
+cake. Mrs. Yellam said majestically:
+
+"My son tells me that you be a reader, Miss Broomfield."
+
+"I like books," replied Fancy. "I have not read many, Mrs. Yellam."
+
+"I don't hold wi' reading," observed Mrs. Mucklow; "leastways, not for
+pore folks as has no time to waste."
+
+This was a sly thrust at Susan Yellam, one of the few villagers who took
+in and read a halfpenny paper.
+
+"Nor do I, Jane, for such as you means. Parson says you find in a book
+just what you bring to 'un. There's folks in Nether-Applewhite as brings
+nothing, nothing at all."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow helped herself to a second slice of cake. Alfred lit his
+pipe, hoping that Fancy would stand her ground when his mother opened
+fire. Mrs. Yellam smiled graciously at her guest. She might be
+"spindling," but she looked intelligent. Nevertheless, she distrusted
+intelligence in very young women. Undisciplined, it might turn a modest
+maid into a militant suffragette. From all such, Good Lord, deliver us!
+A Nether-Applewhite girl, at the head of her class in school, had joined
+the Salvation Army, and now banged a tambourine in Southampton.
+Sometimes she wondered whether her own Lizzie mightn't have turned out a
+handful. Such a possibility almost resigned her to the loss of a child
+very precocious and with a strong will of her own. You will understand
+the temperament and character of Susan Yellam better if you grasp the
+fact that she endeavoured, habitually, to explain the mysterious
+workings of Providence both to herself and to her neighbours. She had
+been a devoted wife and mother, but, marking as she did the
+disconcerting changes in young women of her acquaintance, she was forced
+to the conclusion that many mothers profited by losing their prayers.
+God Almighty knew best. She addressed Fancy again:
+
+"You live in Salisbury?"
+
+"I do, Mrs. Yellam."
+
+"My son tells me that there be many radicals in the town."
+
+"I daresay."
+
+"Be you true blue or yaller?"
+
+"I don't quite understand."
+
+"Be you Conservative or Radical?"
+
+"My father is a Liberal."
+
+Alfred looked uneasy. As a carrier, seeking business where he could find
+it, and dealing impartially with all, he eschewed politics, and
+deprecated the discussion of controversial themes. He would have been
+amazed had a stranger informed him that his outlook on life was
+panoramic in comparison with his mother's. Coming to the rescue of
+Fancy, he said encouragingly:
+
+"So is Mr. Hamlin. He ain't the worse parson for that. As Mother knows."
+
+Mrs. Yellam nodded. A slight acerbity informed her voice as she answered
+her son:
+
+"Mr. Hamlin be a good man in parish, Alferd. 'Tis a square sound peg in
+a square hole. And I say this for 'un. He don't talk politics wi' me."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow interpolated slily:
+
+"Ah-h-h! Parson be a wise man too."
+
+Mrs. Yellam ignored this superbly. She looked at Alfred, but her remarks
+were addressed to Fancy.
+
+"We all knows that Mr. Hamlin is Radical, and 'tis a sore point wi'
+Squire and many others. I hold wi' the old ways, I do. I've no patience
+wi' mischief-makers, a-settin' class agen class, stirrin' up strife, and
+a-puttin' beggars on horseback. As for they jumped-up folks, sanding
+their sugar yesterday an' to-day peacocking along pretending to be
+quality, I fair hates the sight o' 'em. I wouldn't let a maid o' mine
+take service wi' such. All this talk about equality be foolish and
+contrary to Scrupture. There be gentle, and simple, rich and pore. And I
+takes it that pore means more nor poverty--pore o' purse, pore o' mind,
+pore o' body...."
+
+"And poor of soul," said Fancy.
+
+Mrs. Yellam turned sharply. But there was no offence in the girl's quiet
+voice. She lay back in her chair, listening attentively, obviously
+interested. Mrs. Yellam nodded.
+
+"And pore o' soul. You don't look, Miss Broomfield, as if you was
+ashamed o' service."
+
+"I ain't," said Fancy.
+
+"And I reckons you hold wi' me that folks should rest content in their
+proper station o' life, eh?"
+
+Fancy answered politely:
+
+"I heard a sermon preached on that in our cathedral."
+
+"Did 'ee now?"
+
+"Yes. Till I heard that sermon, Mrs. Yellam, I was never quite able to
+understand about doing my duty in that state of life unto which it
+should please God to call me."
+
+"'Tis plain as plain to me," said Mrs. Yellam.
+
+Fancy hesitated. She desired to please Alfred's mother. She was quick to
+realise how easily she might displease her. Being innately sincere, she
+continued bravely:
+
+"It seemed to me to be wrong not to want to better oneself, to rise
+higher...."
+
+As she paused, at a loss for words, Mrs. Mucklow interrupted with a hard
+laugh.
+
+"Right or wrong, we all feels that way. Susan Yellam don't fancy motors,
+but she'd like to ride in her carriage an' pair, and would too, if so be
+as a convict uncle from Australia left her a fortin'."
+
+Alfred said uneasily:
+
+"Now, Aunt Jane, you know we ain't got convict uncles t'other side of
+the world. What will Miss Broomfield be thinking of us?"
+
+To his astonishment and delight Fancy, not his mother, answered Mrs.
+Mucklow.
+
+"But that is what the preacher made so plain and comfortsome. He said
+that we were not to be content with the station to which we might be
+born, but content in that unto which God might call us. He might call us
+to a higher position, or to a lower. He might give carriages and horses,
+or take them away."
+
+Her gentle voice, so persuasive, so sincere, carried with it an
+extraordinary conviction. This simple explanation of a text familiar to
+anybody who has learnt the Catechism became instantly adequate.
+
+Mrs. Yellam, quite as sincere as Fancy, said quickly:
+
+"'Tis true. I never thought on't just that way. And 'tis fair, too. Let
+God's Will be done, whate'er betide." Her face brightened. She said
+almost joyously: "I shall ride in Alferd's new motor-'bus wi' proper
+pride now, feeling sure that God A'mighty called me to do so."
+
+Alfred beamed. Fancy, he perceived, had "made a hit." It might be
+prudent to take her away, and run no risks. If he and she resumed their
+walk, the elder women would discuss her handsomely. A favourable first
+impression might become indelible. He got up:
+
+"If you feel good and ready, Miss Broomfield, we might take the road
+again."
+
+"She be tired out," declared Mrs. Yellam. "Anybody but a man'd see that.
+You let Miss Broomfield bide along wi' us, Alferd; she can bide so long
+as she's a mind to."
+
+This was disconcerting both for Alfred and Fancy. Happily for them, Mrs.
+Mucklow espied an opening for contradiction. She exclaimed derisively:
+
+"What a notion, askin' a young maid to bide along wi' two old women,
+when every bird i' the trees is a-singing to his mate. But 'tis true,
+Miss Broomfield be leg-weary, after climbing our hills. Take her down
+river, Alferd. Do 'ee borrow the miller's boat."
+
+"That I will," said Alfred. "And glad he'll be to oblige me, too. Come
+on, miss. 'Tis only a step to the mill."
+
+The pair vanished. The elder women looked at each other.
+
+Mrs. Mucklow said slowly:
+
+"I be flambergasted, Susan."
+
+"So be I."
+
+"A very pretty, modest maid."
+
+"Alferd might do worse; I allows that."
+
+"So do I, Susan."
+
+Mrs. Yellam hesitated, and then said slowly:
+
+"Alferd be fair daffy about her, that's a fact. Miffed as I may well be
+at his choosin' a sweetheart who looks, seemin'ly, as if a puff o'
+wind'd blow her bang out o' parish, I sticks to what I says, the boy
+might ha' done worse."
+
+"Boy, indeed! He be a man."
+
+"'Tis true. And the multiplication-table, one might say, be made for him
+rather than her. Alfred did tell me las' night that an auntie, on her
+mother's side, bore twins twice. But as to that, we women be all in God
+A'mighty's hands."
+
+"Then Alferd have told 'ee as he wants her?"
+
+"Don't 'ee repeat it. He have."
+
+"Then he'll get her. A big strong feller like that feels wonnerful
+cuddlesome when he comes acrost they delicate, abstemious females. 'Tis
+as sartain as we be sitting here that he'll put the question in his own
+good time."
+
+Mrs. Yellam sighed.
+
+"We be on the skirts o' great happenings. If 'tis the Lard's Will, I
+have nothing to say."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+LE PAYS DU TENDRE
+
+
+During the month that followed, Fancy was very happy. Time stands still
+for true lovers. Past and future seem immensely remote; the present,
+with its rosy hours, holds captive the happy prisoners. Alfred, it is
+true, had not yet put his fate to more than the touch. He had encircled
+a slender waist with a reassuringly strong arm--no more. Being a Yellam
+and a carrier, he disdained haste. Fancy was well content to stroll arm
+in crook towards the altar. Indeed, upon more than one occasion she had
+checked Alfred when about to explode into speech. Behind this
+procrastination lay a maiden's quickening sense of the passion she had
+provoked. Men whom she regarded as "devils" had accused her of being
+prim and cold. She happened to be neither, but it delighted her to think
+that she inspired restraint in her lover, that he treated her with a
+delicacy less rare in big strong men than is generally supposed. His dry
+humour appealed to her, and the rude Doric of this remote Wiltshire
+village brought many a smile to lips that grew redder as kissing-time
+drew near. As yet Alfred had not kissed her, although he had kissed the
+_others_ many times. She gleaned this information from her fellow-maids,
+who were very sympathetic and, apparently, more impatient for a
+satisfactory consummation than the protagonists themselves.
+
+Meanwhile, Alfred was learning how to drive a motor, and becoming
+acquainted, very slowly but surely, with the "insides" of the great
+beast. Already he regarded it as human, and of the same sex as Fancy. He
+would say:
+
+"She was ramping and roaring yesterday afternoon and spitting black
+smoke at me. But when I coax her, she purrs sweet as any pussy-cat."
+
+Lively chaff was exchanged between the lovers upon fortunes told by real
+ladies, which turned out wrong. Fancy, however, still pinned her faith
+to an old pack of cards in her possession, and to appease her Alfred
+began to speak of himself as a soldier. When Fancy confided this to
+Molly, she said maliciously: "Soldier, eh? Well, he ain't one o' the
+'onward' sort, is he?" Fancy divined that Alfred would speak when the
+motor-'bus was delivered; and there were moments when she asked herself
+anxiously which of the two "hers" he loved the better.
+
+Toward the end of July, her mind was set at rest upon this point. After
+the first walk to the downs, Alfred discovered that Fancy tired easily,
+although her alert little mind remained active and indefatigable. His
+own brains moved slowly; frequently he was unable to follow the maid's
+divagations and speculations. For example, he had asked her soberly what
+she intended to mean by the expression a "poor soul," an expression used
+by him in an entirely different sense.
+
+"You came nigh upsetting Mother," he told her. "Dang me, if she didn't
+think 'twas a biff at her."
+
+"I meant a lean soul."
+
+"Whatever may that be, dear?"
+
+Always, when these problems presented themselves for solution, Fancy
+would hesitate and blush a little, which hugely delighted Alfred, who
+set himself the pleasant task of framing questions during his drives to
+and from Salisbury to be answered on the next Sunday.
+
+Having taken time to collect her powers of speech, Fancy said solemnly:
+
+"Some rich people as well as poor have lean souls."
+
+"Rich people? Do you know any rich people?"
+
+"No, but David says so."
+
+"David? You don't mean David Mucklow? He's a pore soul, sure enough."
+
+"I was speaking of King David, who wrote the Psalms. When people's
+bodies wax fat with riches, their souls grow lean."
+
+Alfred nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He weighed an honest
+fifteen stone.
+
+"Ah-h-h! They wax so fat that they stick in the Narrer Gate?"
+
+"Yes; I suppose so."
+
+Alfred considered this, frowning. Then his face brightened.
+
+"I see you slipping through that Gate like a lozenge."
+
+"Oh, please don't say that! 'Tis a figure of speech, Mr. Yellam. Thin
+people may have lean souls. I sometimes think that my soul is lean, when
+I lie awake thinking of--of----"
+
+"Of what, dear?"
+
+"Of myself, and what I want for myself."
+
+"What do you want?"
+
+"Lots and lots of things."
+
+She evaded further questions, arousing a keener curiosity. Her
+elusiveness frightened him. He couldn't understand anybody lying awake
+after an honest day's toil. He tried to picture her lying sleepless,
+with her luminous eyes gazing into the darkness. Did she think of him?
+Did she really want him as he wanted her? The mere thought of her frail
+little body aroused a strange reverence. His mother was right. A puff of
+wind would blow her out of parish, blow her out of sight, blow her bang
+through the Narrow Gate. And feeling this, with the stabbing,
+ever-recurring reflection that she was the least fleshly of mortal women
+whom he knew, he would not willingly have added half a cubit to her
+stature or half a pound to her weight. In his eyes, she was just right.
+
+Upon a never-to-be-forgotten Sunday, much rain had fallen. Fancy, who,
+like most servants, wore too thin shoes, perpetrated a mild joke:
+
+"'Twill be dryer on the river than on land, Alfred."
+
+For some time they had called each other by their Christian names.
+
+"You're right, Fancy."
+
+The motor-'bus, gloriously red-and-yellow, shining like a sunset, had
+been brought homealong the night before. Alfred shewed it to Fancy,
+expatiating upon its superlative merits and beauties till Fancy's
+jealousy was kindled afresh. Oddly enough, urban though the girl was and
+advanced in her ideas, she felt as Mrs. Yellam did about machinery.
+Whirring wheels and roarings and rampings aroused queer qualms in her.
+Alfred took out the heavy silver watch which had belonged to his father,
+and balanced it on the radiator. Then he proceeded to "race" the engine,
+although he had been advised not to do so. The watch never quivered, but
+Fancy did. She put her hands to her small ears, and ejaculated:
+
+"O-h-h!"
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+When the engine was purring gently, Fancy confessed that noise upset
+her. Pistols, for example, discharged suddenly in places of
+entertainment, made her jump. Alfred said derisively:
+
+"What a rare wife for a soldier!"
+
+"I thought 'twas going to explode, yes, I did."
+
+"Not she. 'Tis a beautiful 'bus, and, maybe, she'll carry me and
+mine"--he glanced at her now pensive face--"to fame and fortune."
+
+With this hope animating his heart and voice, Alfred spoke at length,
+and with impressive deliberation, mapping out a golden future. Already
+he had made arrangements to transport passengers to Salisbury, likely
+boys and girls anxious to attend the High School. He predicted an
+ever-increasing traffic and the almost immediate necessity of running
+two 'buses and engaging an assistant.
+
+"Maybe such a job would suit a young woman I know, Miss Fancy
+Broomfield."
+
+Fancy hastened to assure him that such ambitions soared high above her
+disabilities. Alfred continued, waxing very eloquent, letting loose
+amazing phrases, setting forth prospects which must please and allure
+his listener, talking at her so persistently that Fancy became
+frightened.
+
+"Alfred," she said, entreatingly, "don't make so sure of things."
+
+"'Tis in my hand."
+
+"I mind poor Father's plans, and that makes me nervous when you race on
+so."
+
+"What about his plans?"
+
+"He'd a nice business, shoeing the carriage horses of the quality. He
+never did fancy rough work. But it went to bits, when motoring came in.
+That lay back of his poor health. We never know what'll happen."
+
+"I say we do. God Almighty helps them as helps themselves. I'm helping
+myself to a large spoonful, but I can down it, and more too."
+
+Undeterred and undismayed by her protestations, he rushed on gaily, as
+if driving his 'bus at excess speed. To Fancy he seemed to be whirling
+out of sight altogether. Nevertheless she guessed that this
+nerve-racking, soul-jolting excursion into the future was presented as a
+joy-ride for her.
+
+"If you ain't careful," she warned him, "you'll fetch up in Buckingham
+Palace."
+
+At this derisive quip, he jammed on brakes, regaining her sympathy with
+the grim remark:
+
+"Or in a ditch. You're right, my girl. 'Tis a fool as toots his own
+horn. Let's say good-bye to the old van."
+
+The van stood derelict at the back of the shed; the stout horses had
+been sold at a fair price. Alfred locked up the door of the shed and
+glanced dubiously at the grey skies. The afternoon promised fine
+weather, but the grass in the park was sopping. Being a true Yellam,
+Alfred had made elaborate plans; he had chosen the spot where he meant
+to propose, a bosky nook in one of the smaller plantations, hard by a
+tiny stream, where ferns grew luxuriantly. In this sanctuary Fancy might
+be persuaded to take off her hat and gloves. Then, after due
+preliminaries, the man would have his way with the maid. He felt full of
+poetry, and quite incapable of expressing it.
+
+"Wet as water it be underfoot," he growled.
+
+And then Fancy made her small joke. Alfred jumped at the suggestion.
+Twenty minutes later, they were floating upon the quiet bosom of the
+Avon, where the river widened above the mill.
+
+"Perfectly lovely," murmured Fancy.
+
+Alfred nodded, with a heart too full for speech. The sight of his red
+face amused the maid. She knew well enough what was simmering beneath a
+too stolid exterior. He pulled up-stream with short, jerky strokes,
+effective but not elegant. His jacket lay across Fancy's knees, a
+protection against splashings. White shirt-sleeves bulged with big
+muscles. They were heading for a small willow-covered eyot, really--as
+Alfred reflected--a more secluded spot than the bosky dell. He could
+push the boat through the reeds and bulrushes and find snug harbourage
+under the willows.
+
+He did so.
+
+Secure from prying eyes, they sat together, side by side, at the bottom
+of the boat. Alfred slipped an arm round Fancy's waist, and pressed her
+to him. He wondered whether she would remain cool and calm, when the
+burning question was asked. With huge satisfaction he noticed that her
+bosom just heaved beneath her thin blouse. On this blouse rested a tiny
+gold locket which held the portrait of her sailor brother. Alfred had
+never seen this locket palpitate before. His own heart thumped almost
+indecorously at the sight. Stealing a glance at her face, he saw that
+she was blushing. The silence was so delicious that he hated to break
+it--and didn't. Certain carefully-prepared phrases whirled out of his
+mind.
+
+"My!" exclaimed Fancy.
+
+"What is it, dear?"
+
+"A big water-rat!"
+
+"So 'tis. I don't blame him for wishing to have a look at you."
+
+The rat behaved charmingly, peering down at them from the bank, ready to
+dive into his hole, if the trespassers upon his domain moved.
+
+"He ain't afraid," said Alfred; "but I am."
+
+Fancy said hastily:
+
+"Don't move! What bright eyes he has, to be sure."
+
+"No brighter than others I know."
+
+"Shush-h-h! There! He's gone. I wanted to see him stroke his whiskers. I
+wonder whether he be a gentleman rat or a lady rat?"
+
+This happy remark provided a new opening. Alfred said with authority:
+
+"He's a buck rat. He didn't feel frightened, but I reckon he'd told his
+missis and the little 'uns that he'd just take a squint at a notable
+couple, and come back. I'll wager a new hat, he's telling 'em a fine
+tale."
+
+"For all you know he may be an old bachelor."
+
+"Ah! Rats are wiser than we. And Nature is kinder to them. 'Tis no big
+business for them to get to house-keeping. When they're good and ready,
+they go at it--slam bang."
+
+"Yes. Animals don't want much."
+
+Alfred pressed her a little closer.
+
+"Take off hat and gloves, Fancy."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"'Tis a notion I have."
+
+She smiled faintly, and obeyed. Alfred eyed the hat, a simple affair,
+home-made. The gloves were of white silkette. Everything she wore seemed
+to be part of herself, dainty, ephemeral, easily crushed and soiled.
+
+"Put your dear head on my shoulder. 'Twill be more cosy."
+
+She hesitated, and did so. Her palely-pink cheek lay close to his lips.
+He said solemnly:
+
+"I mind what you said, Fancy, about lying awake nights, wanting lots and
+lots of things. Tell me about the things you want."
+
+"I c-c-can't."
+
+Her voice had sunk to an attenuated whisper. He realised that she was
+trembling, and his own pulses throbbed with hers. He continued, more
+fluently, pressing her tighter to him:
+
+"Are you wanting grand things?"
+
+"Oh, no. Whatever made you think so?"
+
+"Because, dear, there is something grand about you. It mazes me, when I
+think on't in my everyday way. You're Parson's parlourmaid, thank the
+Lord! and I'm a plain carrier, with no book-learning and rough manners.
+'Tis like this, Fancy. I'm of the earth, and you're a lil' angel.
+'Twouldn't surprise me to find wings growing on your dear back."
+
+He touched her back gently, to make sure. It was satisfactory to find
+that wings, as yet, had not sprouted.
+
+"I'm only a silly girl, Alfred."
+
+He repeated obstinately:
+
+"You're grand. I reckon 'tis your soul which comes nigh to busting your
+dinky body. Now, Fancy, what do you think about, nights?"
+
+Direct in all things, it never occurred to Alfred that a modest girl
+might shrink from answering such a question in the sincere spirit which
+put it. She smiled sweetly:
+
+"When we talked about that, Alfred, I was thinking amongst other things
+of...."
+
+"Yes, dear?"
+
+"That hat." She pointed a slim finger at it. "I wanted that hat ever so,
+because I saw one very like it on the pretty head of Mrs. Lionel
+Pomfret. I wrote a long letter to Father, telling him where to buy the
+straw and the trimmings. You like it, don't you?"
+
+"I never saw a prettier hat, but I like best the head as bobs under it."
+
+"It cost me four-and-eight; not a penny more."
+
+"Wonderful you be with your needle. Go on, Fancy. I reckon that hats
+ain't all you think about."
+
+"I think about Willie, tossing in his great ship."
+
+A consuming envy of Willie, the sailor brother, assailed Alfred, but no
+suitable phrase occurred to him. Fancy continued:
+
+"Most of the time, Alfred, my thoughts are with poor Father. He does
+miss me."
+
+"I'll be bound he does."
+
+"He enjoys such miserable health. He's a real farrier, doctors horses as
+well as shoes 'em. And he takes his own medicine. I used to water it
+down, unbeknown to him."
+
+"Horse medicine? That's moving stuff. Looks as if your thoughts, dear,
+never rambled far from the family."
+
+"Oh, yes, they do. I think a lot, Alfred, about the future."
+
+This was more encouraging.
+
+"So do I; so do I."
+
+"If anything happened to Father or Willie, where would I be?"
+
+Alfred replied happily:
+
+"I don't know where you would be, but I can tell you where you might
+be."
+
+His eager voice beguiled her, but she resisted its pleading.
+
+"I might be almost alone in the world. My two sisters are married. They
+live in small houses. There wouldn't be room for me. I like this place,
+but, oh, dear! some places be awful. It's selfish to think of myself,
+but I can't help it."
+
+"'Tis a heartsome thing to think about. I think about you, Fancy, when I
+drive slow along our roads. You fill my mind, you do."
+
+He hoped fervently that she would say what he wanted and confess
+outright that she let some of her thoughts dwell on him. But again the
+poor fellow was grievously disappointed. She murmured confusedly:
+
+"How funny!"
+
+"Funny be damned!"
+
+"Alfred----!"
+
+"I don't care. I'm moved as if I'd taken your father's horse medicine.
+You're raking me up with a small tooth-comb. If I think of you all the
+time, 'twould seem fair that you'd think of me some of the time."
+
+"Perhaps I do."
+
+"Ah-h-h! That's better. We're coming to grips."
+
+As if contradicting this, the aggravating witch raised her head. Alfred
+grew desperate. Had he been browsing in a fool's paradise? The thought
+palsied speech. He spoke angrily:
+
+"I see how 'tis. You lie awake shaking with laughter, thinking what I
+fool I am."
+
+"Gracious! If you talk like that, I shall think so."
+
+"I am a fool about you. 'Tis a fact. I ain't ashamed on't."
+
+"Folks say...." She hesitated; her eyes twinkled demurely, but he
+couldn't see them.
+
+"Well, what do folks say?"
+
+"That you're a oner with girls, on and off like."
+
+"On and off? You're throwing big Eliza at my head. If I was a true
+soldier man, always bragging about my victorious marches with women, I
+might tell you 'twas t'other way about. Being only a timorsome carrier,
+and a lover of God Almighty's truth, I say this. Eliza scairt the
+gizzard out of me, she did. I fair ran away from her audacious,
+ungenteel attacks. Now you have it."
+
+Fancy laughed. Alfred fumed on, beside himself with love and impatience.
+
+"I've walked out with many maids, some not so maidenly as might be. I'm
+a picker and chooser, getting that much sense from my mother. I never
+walked long with any of 'em. If you'd happened along fifteen years ago,
+when the first petticoat hit me in eye, I'd have remained true and
+faithful to you--so help me God!"
+
+She remained silent, twisting her fingers. He said hoarsely:
+
+"I want you desperately for my wife, Fancy Broomfield. And you know it,
+being a clever maid. Now--don't you want me?"
+
+He felt her body relaxing, almost slipping from him. Then, very slowly,
+she lifted her eyes to his, and he read in their luminous depths the
+blessed answer which her quivering lips withheld.
+
+He kissed her reverently and tenderly.
+
+To his surprise and delight, she kissed him, clinging to him, and
+whispering pantingly:
+
+"You'll be kind to me, Alfred; I know you will. I'm such a poor wife for
+the likes of you. Your mother thinks so, and your Aunt Jane."
+
+"You can twist them round your lil' finger."
+
+"I believe you love your motor-'bus more than me."
+
+"What a notion! Now I'm going to kiss such foolishness out of you. If it
+ain't gone when I've given you the first big dose, why, I must begin all
+over again."
+
+The river lapped its approval against the sides of the old boat. A sedge
+warbler looked on with his tiny head on one side. The tall reeds nodded.
+The sun peeped from behind a cloud and shot a golden shaft upon the
+pair. Why do we think of the orbed maiden, the Moon, as being kinder to
+lovers than the great god of day, which warms and fructifies? Upon this
+artless pair he poured generously his vivifying beams. Suddenly the
+willows sparkled with diamonds, the grey river became a sheet of silver,
+the sedge warbler fluted his hymeneal note, and other warblers joined in
+the chorus.
+
+And, far away, in a great palace, men were bending frowning brows over a
+vast war-map, gesticulating fiercely, plotting and planning Armageddon.
+
+But the lovers had their hour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+UNCLE
+
+
+Everybody in Nether-Applewhite called Habakkuk Mucklow Uncle.
+
+In all villages remote from what we call civilisation there may be found
+men like him, loose-limbed, loose-tongued, easy, pleasure-loving,
+quick-witted in what concerns others, strangely slow to grapple with
+their own opportunities, always at the mercy of their wives and genially
+dependent upon them. Uncle was the best thatcher in the countryside. He
+might have been busy all the time, but it was known that he refused
+disdainfully the more primitive forms of his work; he never touched
+barns or stacks. On the other hand, he was artistically eager to tackle
+the decorative thatching which is still to be found in Wiltshire.
+Although he was older than his sister, Mrs. Yellam, and past sixty, he
+still ran afoot with the hounds, and earned handsome tips as an
+independent harbourer of deer. During many years, also, he had been
+"beater" to old Captain Davenant, who took out a Forest License from the
+Crown which afforded him three days' rough shooting a week, from October
+till the end of January. Nobody, in those parts, knew the northern half
+of the New Forest better than Habakkuk Mucklow.
+
+Like all his family, he was an upstanding fellow, a six-footer, and
+finely proportioned, with a cheerful red face, cleanly-shaven save for a
+wisp of grey whisker which he sported high on his cheek after the
+fashion adopted by the Iron Duke, whom Habakkuk venerated as the
+greatest of Englishmen. Had you told him that his hero came from
+Ireland, he would not have believed it.
+
+Uncle loved creature comforts, and could carry more strong ale without
+showing it than any man in the parish. Very wisely he had married Jane
+Rockley who, in her time, had served a long apprenticeship at Pomfret
+Court as scullery-maid and then kitchen-maid, becoming, finally, cook in
+that handsome establishment. Jane Mucklow ruled Habakkuk through his
+stomach, and he was well aware of this, and rebelled constantly against
+what he considered to be an abuse of power.
+
+"Womenfolk," he would remark, "don't wage honourable warfare. They hits
+below the belt, they do. When my old 'ooman gets miffed wi' me, I
+notices a tremenjous difference in my victuals."
+
+Uncle had pipeclay in his marrow. During his hot youth he had taken the
+Queen's shilling after a poaching affair, and served some five years
+with the colours of the county regiment. He had not seen active service,
+but he allowed strangers to believe that he was a great warrior.
+Possibly, the discipline of the parade ground had made him swear to take
+life easily for the rest of his days.
+
+Captain Davenant spoke of him as a "character." The word "card" was not
+known in Nether-Applewhite.
+
+Uncle loved two persons nearly as much as himself--his sister, Susan,
+and his nephew, Alfred. When the news of Alfred's engagement became
+known to him, he expressed great interest and pleasure, drinking the
+health of prospective groom and bride in much ale and cider. Alfred
+brought the blushing Fancy to Uncle's cottage, and received the
+felicitations which the good looks of the young woman warranted.
+
+Uncle had sentimental views about the married state not shared by his
+wife. As he kissed Fancy, he said solemnly:
+
+"'Tis a great venture. We all likes a dip into the lucky bag. And it do
+seem to me, Alferd, as you've pulled a prize."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow sniffed. She, too, kissed Fancy, but uttered a warning
+note:
+
+"Marriage ain't what some folks crack it up to be, my girl. But I've not
+a word agen courtship. Your uncle, as is to be, follered me about like a
+dog for three years, and I own up truthful 'twas the happiest time o' my
+life."
+
+Uncle laughed cheerily.
+
+"I be your old dog still, Jane, and allers ready for a bone."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow nodded, looking whimsically at Fancy.
+
+"You hear that, my girl? 'Tis the bone they look for. A man's heart lies
+in his stomach. Feed up Alferd so long as he behaves himself. I says
+nothing about the power o' prayer, seein' as generally speaking my most
+powerful prayers ain't been answered as I could wish, but fasting do
+wonnerful work, especially wi' men."
+
+Uncle laughed again.
+
+Marriage, however, seemed reasonably remote. Fancy wished to "make good"
+in her new place. Alfred, very comfortable at home, intended to work
+hard for a year at least, laying the solid foundations of a business
+likely to be bigger than he had ever dreamed it to be. Mrs. Yellam,
+moreover, had spoken plainly and sensibly to her son.
+
+"She be a sweet maid, Alferd, but tarribly spindlin', a slip o' muslin,
+and young for her years."
+
+"Twenty-two, Mother."
+
+"I knows that. And I minds that her mother died, pore soul, when Fancy
+was born. A bottle-baby; and I never did hold wi' that. Don't 'ee look
+so glum. She be plumper a'ready. Pa'son give his maids good plain food,
+and our air blowing over downs be better nor strong ale for such as
+she."
+
+"You do love her, Mother?"
+
+"In course I do, and I'm doing my duty by her and you when I tells 'ee
+that she ain't marriage-ripe, nor likely to be for many months to come.
+If I was only thinking o' myself, my son, I'd be laying out your wedding
+sheets this day. Squire and me has many things in common, and this afore
+all: we likes to see red-cheeked little 'uns coming on."
+
+"You're a wonderful, farseeing woman. Fair aching I am for her, the
+pretty dear, but wait we must for matrimonial joys, and wait we shall.
+That's certain."
+
+To his surprise, she laid her strong hands upon his shoulder and kissed
+him solemnly: demonstrations rare indeed with her, which provoked
+surprise.
+
+"Why, Mother!"
+
+She said slowly:
+
+"You be all I have, Alferd, and a son to be proud of as never was. I be
+farseein'. 'Tis a gift o' God. Biding for happiness, in the right
+Christian spirit, generally brings it, but not allers, not allers."
+
+With a sigh she turned to her daily work, and he went, thoughtfully, to
+his.
+
+July glided away peacefully. Wars and rumours of wars reached few ears
+in Nether-Applewhite. The possibility of civil war in Ireland disturbed
+Mr. Hamlin and provoked to wrath Sir Geoffrey Pomfret; the villagers
+remained blandly indifferent to anything outside the sphere of their own
+interests and activities.
+
+With the one exception of Uncle.
+
+Perhaps that old war-horse--for so he deemed himself to be--nosed from
+afar the coming battles. More than likely, he picked up chance words
+dropped by Captain Davenant, once a Guardsman, who rented two miles of
+fishing on the Avon, preserves under Uncle's watchful eye. The Captain
+predicted war with Germany as inevitable. Uncle, like his wife, could be
+trusted to repeat what he heard with sundry additions peculiarly his
+own. In the ale-house, he told his cronies what he knew and much more.
+
+"'Twill be a nice bloody how-dy-do; and it mads me to think that time,
+as the saying goes, have laid me by the heels. The Kayser be bent on the
+job, and have been ever since they ancient days, which I recalls right
+well, when he licked the Frenchies. A rare doin' he give 'em, to be
+sure."
+
+An old gaffer answered promptly, voicing, unwittingly, the general
+opinion:
+
+"'Tain't none of our affair. I be sick to my stomach wi' such
+flustratious talk. We English be the mightiest people on earth because
+we minds our own business. I don't think nothing o' foreigners; they be,
+one and all, so wonderful peevish."
+
+Uncle smiled genially.
+
+"Minds our own business, do us? I bain't so cocky-sure o' that, old
+friend. Speaking up for myself, and bigger fools have spoken in this
+ale-house, I be sartain sure that good money comes my way through
+minding other folks' business. I was never one to think of myself."
+
+"What a tale!"
+
+"The Captain be a dry old stick, but cracklin' wi' ripe wisdom, as I be.
+And he's seen the world, as I have. Stay-at-home folk never look further
+than their back-yards. I takes a very wide view. Me and Lord Roberts
+have sized up this yere Kayser for what he be, a very bumptious,
+slambang, bold pirate, a Grab-all as must be put in his place by we. And
+why? Because 'tis our duty and privilege to keep proper order. We had to
+down Krooger." He trolled out lustily:
+
+    "Good old Krooger's dead.
+     He cut 'is throat
+     Wi' a piece o' soap.
+     Good old Krooger's dead."
+
+"I'll drink one more glass o' ale afore I go homealong. Yes, my
+respectable, church-goin' friends, we be on the eve o' such battles as
+never was. And I couldn't hold up head amongst proper men, if I thought
+old England'd keep out o' the scrap. I practises what I preaches. I've
+three big sons--fair whoppers. If wanted, I'll see to it that they be
+amongst the first to go, and wi' all my honest, generous soul I wish I
+could go along wi' en."
+
+The publican, William Saint, who served the ale, said sharply:
+
+"Your sons, Uncle, may have something to say about that."
+
+Uncle stared at him disdainfully. William Saint was of
+Nether-Applewhite, but he had begun a prosperous career as a footman at
+Pomfret Court. Uncle despised lackeys in his heart. And he detested what
+he termed "quality talk" from people who were not quality. William Saint
+spoke mincingly, which indicated cant and prosperity. He was accused,
+not without reason, of holding radical views, although, being a
+time-server, he voted Conservative in accordance with the Squire's
+wishes. Nevertheless, Saint was not a man to be ignored or taken
+lightly. His tavern, the _Sir John Barleycorn_, did not engross all his
+activities. He had many small irons in the fire, bought and sold horses,
+dealt in corn and hay, and farmed a few acres of land. In appearance, he
+somewhat resembled Napoleon: the same massive jaw, the thin lips, the
+pale complexion and brooding brow. Under his management a small
+ale-house was becoming a rival of the principal inn, the _Pomfret Arms_.
+He catered for a better class of customer than his predecessor. And he
+saw possibilities in a tavern, happily situated in the middle of the
+village, overlooking the Avon, a comfortable house of call, clean
+outwardly and within, heavily-thatched, picturesque enough to catch the
+eye and beguile the fancy of the ubiquitous motorist.
+
+Uncle drank his ale before he answered Saint. The mighty draught
+restored his good-humour.
+
+"May be. I listens to all men, and suffers fools and knaves as gladly as
+King Solomon. The Kayser be spoiling for a big fight wi' we. You be on
+the side o' peace, William Saint, and there's many to keep 'ee company.
+I don't blame 'ee. 'Tis your ignorance. The country be full o' just such
+men as you, wi' their eyes glued to their own tills, and counters,
+mindin' their own business, pore souls! and puffed up wi' conceit." He
+paused and concluded impressively: "We be tee-totally unprepared, and
+there be millions over yonder a-waiting and a-longing to stick us like
+so many fat hogs. I wish 'ee, one and all, good-night."
+
+Uncle cocked his bowler--a genuine Billy Coke hat, with Lock's
+historical name on a much-soiled lining (the bowler had belonged to
+Captain Davenant)--at a martial angle, and strode to his cottage,
+whistling Garryowen. When out with the fox-hounds, he wore a stained red
+coat, another sometime hartog of the Captain's, surmounting well-cut
+breeches and gaiters, once again part of a generous employer's wardrobe.
+He was wearing the breeches and gaiters to-day, but his mind had
+wandered from sport to war. Tremendous military ardour possessed him. By
+the luck of things, on leaving the ale-house, he encountered Lionel
+Pomfret returning from fishing. Lionel had a great affection for Uncle,
+although he knew him to be a poacher on the sly. Uncle hailed him with
+respectful geniality, reasonably assured that five minutes' talk with
+t'young Squire meant more war news and a shining half-crown. On such
+occasions he employed a formula, rarely known to fail to open either
+hearts or purses.
+
+"How well 'ee look, Master Lionel! And Lard bless 'ee, I was thinkin' of
+'ee as you turned carner. Any fish this fine evening?"
+
+Lionel Pomfret opened his creel and displayed a nice brace and a half.
+But Uncle was in no mood to talk of trout. He had more notable fish to
+fry.
+
+"What be they Frenchies doing, sir?"
+
+Lionel answered gravely:
+
+"I hear that twenty thousand Germans have been repulsed at Nancy, but I
+don't believe it, Uncle."
+
+"No more don't I, Master Lionel. These be troublous times."
+
+Lionel nodded.
+
+"Be we coming in?"
+
+"Damn it, we can't keep out."
+
+"What I says exzactly. The Rads be kickin' up a fine hullabaloo--a very
+dirty, timorsome lot. And bound to crawl down the pole bimeby."
+
+"France is invaded," said Lionel.
+
+"Quick work, sir."
+
+"Quick? After forty years' elaborate preparation? This thing is horribly
+serious, Uncle. I'm wondering what they think about it in the village."
+
+"I can tell 'ee, no man better. 'Tis none o' their business, they
+thinks. Such shameless ignerunce makes wiser folk value their wisdom. I
+happened into the _Sir John Barleycorn_ just afore seein' you, sir. I'd
+a matter o' business wi' William Saint."
+
+Not for wealth untold would Uncle have admitted that he visited an
+ale-house to drink ale. Lionel smiled. He knew his man.
+
+"Very thirsty evening, too, Uncle."
+
+"I bain't denying that, Master Lionel. And I did take a glass o' what
+they calls ale there for the good o' the house. We fell to talkin'. I
+made bold to tell 'em what me and Lord Roberts felt about that there
+Kayser. And it miffed 'em. I could see that. And the less they pore
+souls says the more they thinks. They be chewin' my cud now. But what do
+'ee really think, sir?"
+
+Lionel laughed, not wholeheartedly. He was a six months' bridegroom.
+
+"I think, Uncle, that inside of a fortnight I shall be at my depot in
+Winchester, drilling recruits."
+
+"Lard save us! And you wi' so young and be-utiful a wife!"
+
+"Sir Geoffrey thinks as I do. There is going to be a terrific strain on
+the manhood of this country. Will it stand that strain?"
+
+"I thinks it will, Master Lionel, so be as they chin-wobblin'
+politicians keeps their dirty fingers out o' pie. I'd like to march wi'
+'ee to Winchester, and overseas, too, by Jo'!"
+
+Lionel nodded. A minute later Uncle strode on his way with the expected
+half-crown snug in his breeches' pocket. He told himself that he had
+earned it.
+
+When he reached his cottage, he found George, the youngest of his three
+sons, just back from the woods, where he worked as a hurdler at this
+time of year. The other sons were married and established in cottages of
+their own. Jane Mucklow was busy preparing the eight o'clock hot supper.
+An agreeable odour filled the kitchen. Uncle kicked the dust off his
+boots and entered the house, with George at his heels. The good smell of
+baked pork provoked, as usual, a pleasant word. Indeed, Habakkuk Mucklow
+had discovered very early in life that soft words do butter parsnips.
+
+"Well, Mother, you looks very sanitary, and what a colour!"
+
+"Got, as you well knows, from stewin' over a fire. Been painting your
+nose wi' ale, or worse, I reckons."
+
+Uncle stroked his nose.
+
+"'Tis a very handsome feature, Jane, and allers a true friend to your
+good cookin'. I met Master Lionel in village street, and let 'un know
+what a wise man was thinking about the times. Agreed wi' every word, he
+did. I told 'un he'd be called to jine up again in Winchester inside o'
+fortnit. Like as not Garge here'll be wearin' out shoe-leather in some
+barrack-yard afore he's much older."
+
+Mrs. Mucklow stared at him, paralysed by astonishment. George, being the
+most interested party, said heavily:
+
+"Not if I knows meself."
+
+"I say, Garge, as you'll enlist if they want 'ee."
+
+"They won't want the likes o' me."
+
+Jane Mucklow said sharply:
+
+"Don't you go upsettin' the boy wi' your ridiculous war-talk, Father. He
+come nigh on leavin' us to freeze to death in Canady. Why should we
+fight to save they Frenchies?"
+
+Uncle grinned and chuckled.
+
+"Ah-h-h! I've a notion about that. I told 'un to the old Captain, and he
+said 'twas a very notable remark. Fight we shall and must to save our
+own souls and bodies."
+
+George opened a wide mouth; his mother laughed scornfully.
+
+"Never heard o' the British Fleet, I suppose?"
+
+Uncle smiled. Such a smile might have been seen upon the face of Ulysses
+after his wanderings, when Penelope asked foolish question.
+
+"Mother, I've seen they mighty ships o' war, which is what you can't
+brag on. But more'n our Fleet were wanted afore, in the days o'
+Bonaparty, and will be again. You mind that bit o' pork, and leave young
+Garge to me."
+
+He gave undivided attention to George; the pleasant smile faded from his
+face. His likeness to his sister came out.
+
+"Be you afeard, Garge?"
+
+George pulled himself together.
+
+"I be bold as brass, except wi' maids."
+
+"That any son o' mine should own up to that! Afeard wi' maids! What a
+gert booby! I be afeard _for_ maids, if so be as they Proosians come
+rampin' into France. And 'tis true they be over the line a'ready."
+
+"How do 'ee know that?" asked his wife.
+
+"Never you mind, Mother. I picks up my information as you does, here and
+there. I told Master Lionel as how France was invaded, and he gave me
+half-a-crown, he did."
+
+Uncle produced the half-crown as confirmation strong. George was much
+impressed.
+
+"You earns money in wondersome ways, Father."
+
+"I do. Now, Garge, I tell 'ee, fair and square, the likes o' you'll be
+wanted bad, and, mark my words, my lad, if you don't go willin' they'll
+take 'ee whether or no. I forgot to mention it to Master Lionel, but
+talk o' conscription be in the air."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Mucklow.
+
+Uncle, fully alive to the advantage of leaving people to chew the cud of
+his wisdom, went outside to smoke a pipe before supper. He walked down
+the village street, carrying a high head and assuming the port of Mars.
+Bugles sounded in his ears, and the steady tramp of marching men. He had
+picked up the significant and terrifying word "conscription" from
+Captain Davenant, who asked for nothing better. Uncle had agreed with
+the Captain heartily, being very sensible of what drill had accomplished
+for himself, much as he hated it at the time. He thought of George as
+clay to the hand of a sergeant, not as cannon fodder. "Afeard wi'
+maids!" What a confession!
+
+He was not in the mood to engage others in talk, lumping all his
+neighbours together as a flock of silly snivelling sheep, sadly in need
+of a shepherd. For the first time in his life he paid the penalty of
+being a prophet, and felt strangely alone and unhonoured.
+
+Suddenly he bethought him of his sister Susan. He had half-an-hour to
+spare before supper. She would be busy in her kitchen, but never too
+busy to exchange a word with him. Alfred would be still on the road. He
+strode along more briskly. Susan was the one person living with whom
+Uncle was really himself, at best or worst a very simple,
+straightforward soul. He had never posed before her and--what a tribute
+to her character!--in her rather austere presence he avoided those
+whimsical perversions of the truth which so exasperated his wife. To a
+woman of brains he bowed the knee. Also, he was gratefully aware of
+Susan's enduring affection for him.
+
+He wondered how she would take his news, for news it would be, that the
+Squire and Master Lionel were grimly confronting the certainty of
+England declaring war upon Germany. Susan read her _Daily Mail_, but not
+with any great faith in what newspaper men said. Having a singularly
+retentive memory, she prided herself upon collating contradictory
+statements made by irresponsible writers. Such critical powers were not
+exercised upon the Bible. Apparent discrepancies in the Holy Book could
+be, and were (so she held) reconciled by surpliced commentators.
+
+Susan, so Uncle reflected, would deal out strong doses of commonsense,
+which her brother, after due absorption, could in his turn distribute
+generously amongst the weak-kneed. There were moments when pity for his
+fellow-men overbrimmed in Uncle's heart, and filled him with an
+amorphous, inherent melancholy. He could rise to giddy heights of mirth
+and fall from them into unplumbed depths of depression. Susan, as he
+knew, stood solidly between these extremes.
+
+He was in the melancholy mood when he entered her kitchen.
+
+"Well, Susan, there be a nice bit o' pork frizzlin' in our oven, but I
+be in sore need o' spiritual nourishment."
+
+"Whatever ails 'ee, Habakkuk?"
+
+"'Tis the crool thought o' weepin' maids and mothers throughout the
+land, as robs me o' my appetite."
+
+For the moment Uncle spoke with absolute sincerity. The thought of a
+nation in mourning had not entered his mind till he crossed the
+threshold of the Yellam cottage. But he accepted it as illuminating.
+And, instantly, his imagination draped the idea in deepest crepe.
+
+"Be you speaking o' French maids and mothers?"
+
+"Being the man I am, I counts 'em all in wi' us. 'Tis cut-and-dried, as
+the saying goes. Old England takes the field."
+
+Susan Yellam said drily:
+
+"Old England takes the field. Well, dearie, you take a chair and tell us
+all about it."
+
+Incredulity was written plain upon her face. Uncle opened fire at
+point-blank range.
+
+"Sir Gaffrey says so, Susan. Master Lionel be hot-foot for Winchester,
+to drill recruities."
+
+The shot went home. Mrs. Yellam's florid face paled. She had
+deliberately put from her the dreadful possibility. But if Sir Geoffrey
+said so, it was so. The blood left her face, because her first thought
+had been for the gracious lady of the Manor, and the young wife, two
+women very dear to her. As the colour came back to her cheeks, she
+reflected that she, personally, was not involved in these fearful
+issues. Mr. Lionel was a professional soldier. Wife or no wife, a
+Pomfret would do his duty. England's army might have to fight side by
+side with the French, and England's army was invincible.
+
+She said gravely:
+
+"We be in God A'mighty's hands."
+
+Uncle sat down, assuming a funereal expression which sat oddly upon his
+somewhat comical countenance. He did not share his sister's faith in an
+All-wise and Merciful Providence. Strong ale, perhaps, had weakened it,
+and over-indulgence in flesh-pots. But he dared not contradict his
+sister.
+
+He fired another shot.
+
+"Captain Davenant be sartain sure that our noble army be too small for
+such a tremenjous affair. He goes further than that, Susan. I wouldn't
+deceive 'ee or try to frighten 'ee for a barrel o' ale, but he be
+flustratingly positive that we be drawn into the bloodiest war as never
+was, and he do say that God A'mighty fights on the side o' the biggest
+army. His tarr'ble words, Susan, not mine. There be millions o'
+Proosians marchin' into France this very day, and the Captain says they
+Frenchies bain't ready for 'em."
+
+He expected a cooling stream of comfort and a rebuttal of what the
+Captain said. If anybody could stand up against so redoubtable a
+personage it would be Susan Yellam. She said slowly:
+
+"The Captain says that our army be too small! The King'll have to call
+for--millions?"
+
+Uncle nodded dolorously. To his utter amazement and confounding, Susan
+raised her apron, and covered her face with it.
+
+The abomination of coming desolation overwhelmed both of them.
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+FIRST IMPRESSIONS
+
+
+Uncle was quick, like all practised orators, to realise the effect of
+his words not only upon a sister, but upon himself. He emerged from the
+depths, as a swimmer after a dive, shaking his head and opening his
+mouth to the ambient air. A happy thought occurred to him.
+
+"Susan," he said, in a more cheerful voice, "I be mazed as you be, but
+things bain't so dark as they seem, and I've Squire's own word for it
+that figures lie to beat Satan hisself."
+
+Mrs. Yellam looked at him interrogatively.
+
+"I be allers, so to speak, a very calkilatin' man, rampaged by Fortin
+into makin' sixpence do duty for a shillin'. Now, I asks you this, and I
+means to put the question, fair and square, to Captain Davenant
+to-morrer marning. 'Tis a common saying that one Englishman be so good
+as ten Frenchies in a stand-up fight. That be a very comfortsome
+thought, old girl."
+
+"Which I don't hold wi', for one."
+
+"Don't 'ee? I wager the half-crown Master Lionel gi' me that you be the
+equal o' ten Frenchwomen, and, old as I be, I'd fair scorn to turn back
+on any 'arf-dozen furriners. If so be as my calkilatin' ain't out o'
+whack, our noble army o' two hundred thousand valiant souls be more'n
+equal o' two million Frenchies. And, if that be so, the Germans be up
+agen four millions in all. Leastways, if I bain't out in my figurin'."
+
+Mrs. Yellam smiled faintly.
+
+"Your figures, Habakkuk, be Satan's figures. I allows that one true
+Englishman can down three Frenchies, not more. Men'll be wanted--and
+soon."
+
+Uncle remarked mournfully:
+
+"Such talk takes away my appetite for cracklin'. I go my ways, dear,
+leavin' this mossel o' comfort behind me: they won't be askin' for
+widows' only sons. Good-night to 'ee."
+
+After Uncle's departure Mrs. Yellam busied herself with her work,
+pausing now and again to sigh deeply. If Sir Geoffrey Pomfret said that
+England was coming in, why, England was in. A doubtful hypothesis became
+certainty. And some widows' sons, if she knew her countrymen, would
+fight for England, tooth and nail, even if they were not directly asked
+to do so.
+
+Presently Alfred appeared, sharp-set after a good day's business. He
+repeated the gossip of the market-place. Russia was going to surprise
+the world. England must come in. A greengrocer, on intimate terms with a
+lady of quality, had told him as a secret that the Guards were already
+embarking for Belgium. Alfred concluded cheerfully:
+
+"In Salisbury, Mother, 'tis agreed that six weeks'll see the end on't."
+
+"Captain Davenant be talkin' o' conscription, Alferd."
+
+"Let him talk. He's a sour man. I put my faith in God Almighty, not in
+the likes of him."
+
+"Ah-h-h!"
+
+"I say to myself, in all Christian humility, that God Almighty in His
+wisdom is fair fed up with the Proosians. Such talk as they use, all
+spitting and choking, is quite enough to sicken ordinary folks. 'Tis the
+swelled head that this Kayser has. However, wiser men prophesy a rare
+uplifting move in trade."
+
+"Alferd--don't talk o' that. 'Tis more than I can bear to hear o' folks
+makin' money out o' the miseries o' others."
+
+He stared at her, noticing at last her drawn expression.
+
+"You ain't got the headache, Mother?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Wouldn't own up to it, if you had. Something's gnawing at you."
+
+Very gravely she told him about the young Squire. Alfred's face fell,
+thinking of Joyce Pomfret, and then of Fancy. What would that pretty
+dear be feeling, if her Alfred was on the march? The light faded from
+his rubicund face. Till that moment the possibility of going had never
+occurred to him. If England did take a hand in the mighty game, surely
+her Army and Fleet would suffice for all eventualities. Suddenly, he
+banged the table with his clenched fist, startling his mother.
+
+"Alferd--!" she exclaimed irritably.
+
+Alfred hastened to apologise. A confounding thought had begotten a
+thoughtless action. He said earnestly:
+
+"Fancy is a oner for telling fortunes with cards."
+
+Mrs. Yellam frowned. Cards she held to be playthings of Satan, expressly
+invented by him together with strong drink and bad women. Alfred
+continued hastily:
+
+"A lady in Salisbury, real quality, Mother, told Fancy's fortune."
+
+"Did she? Better be using her needle, I says."
+
+"No doubt. 'Tis a very odd thing, and food for sober thought, but the
+lady did foretell as Fancy'd marry a soldier."
+
+"A very foolish, mischievous notion to put i' the maid's head."
+
+Alfred nodded. Then he said portentously:
+
+"It might come true, Mother, if the pessimists be right."
+
+"Pessimists?"
+
+"'Tis a new word to me, and means--crokers, as looks on the dark side of
+the cloud."
+
+"Well, what do they tell 'ee?"
+
+"'Twas a solitary he. A shoemaker by trade, and a radical. The smell of
+leather be enough to account for his politics and gloomy views. When I
+take shoes to him, we always pass time o' day, and I come away thinking
+'tis just before dawn on a cold, drizzling, November morning. He says to
+me: 'My lad, these Proosians may be drinking ale in Salisbury before
+this war's over.' I laughed at him. And he told me I'd laugh t'other
+side of my face in six months."
+
+Mrs. Yellam made no comment, a strange abstention. Her firm jaws set
+beneath strongly-marked brows, her eyes glowered into the future. Mother
+and son finished the meal in silence.
+
+These things were talked over on Monday, the 2nd of August.
+
+On the Wednesday all England knew that we were at war with Germany.
+
+The first effect of this stupendous happening was comical. The banks
+were closed; many people found themselves without money and unable to
+borrow it. Fishpingle, the bailiff at the Home Farm, had to lend Lionel
+Pomfret five pounds to take him to Winchester. Some pessimists predicted
+a financial panic. The foreign stock exchanges transacted no business.
+All this affected Nether-Applewhite but mildly; tongues wagged a little
+faster than usual; very few believed that an Expeditionary Force would
+be sent to France. Sir Geoffrey Pomfret walked down to the village and
+talked with his people. His jolly face and hearty voice indicated
+immense relief. He--and thousands like him--had been tormented by the
+fear that a nation stigmatised as shopkeepers would place self-interest
+before honour. He writhed when he recalled the cynical gibe of the
+Russian to England's ambassador at a time when England did "keep out."
+Old Captain Davenant and the Squire were types of men whom the more
+Radical press derided as reactionary and fire-eaters. Let the verdict of
+history speak for such after the war. Few, to-day, will deny that the
+privileged classes with most at stake stood shoulder to shoulder in
+their determination to scrap everything except scraps of paper bearing
+England's sign-manual.
+
+The villagers listened agape to Sir Geoffrey and Captain Davenant. Then
+each went his way perfectly satisfied that others would dance to war's
+pipings and alarums, whilst they "carried on" as before.
+
+Old Gilbert Parish, a great-granfer, was convinced that war had been
+declared with the hereditary foe. He asked Mr. Hamlin shrilly, holding
+hand to ear:
+
+"What I wants to know, Pa'son, be this--whatever shall we do wi' they
+Frenchies when us have beat'h 'em?"
+
+Mr. Hamlin answered gravely: "I suppose we shall have to eat them,
+Master Gilbert."
+
+The nonagenarian displayed toothless gums.
+
+"Ah-h-h! That's what the Dook said at Waterloo. 'Up, Guards, and eat
+'en,' he says. _And they did!_"
+
+"Was you there, Granfer, on that notable day?" asked a bystander.
+
+The old fellow cackled joyously.
+
+"'Tis so far back along, I disremembers. To speak sober truth, my lad,
+the Dook won that gert battle wi'out me. 'Tis a fact beyond gainsayin'
+that I be here, and hale and hearty, because, maybe, I was not there."
+
+His humour so tickled him that he hobbled forthwith to the _Sir John
+Barleycorn_ to wet a still serviceable whistle. Many followed his
+example; the two taverns sold much ale.
+
+In a miraculously short time village life ambled on as before. The small
+boys played at soldiers; some of the more prescient mothers laid in
+stores. Lionel Pomfret returned from Winchester with the assurance, hot
+from the mouth of the officer commanding the depot, that every regular
+would be sent abroad. The Squire was absorbed in the details. Each
+officer would be allowed thirty pounds of kit, such kit to be snugly
+packed in a pale-green carry-all. It comprised one change, two blankets,
+a few surgical dressings, a folding-lamp, a pair of wire-cutters, and
+under-linen. The Territorials and Yeomanry would defend our shores.
+According to experts, invasion might be deemed practicable, if unlikely.
+Next day Lionel went to London, to the War Office. He came back with a
+Captain's commission.
+
+The Government had taken over the railroads, and, at first, trains were
+inconveniently belated. Liege was covering herself with imperishable
+glory, holding up hordes of Germans. In the rural districts the
+comforting impression prevailed that the All-Highest War Lord had gone
+stark, staring mad, and that a peace-loving nation would kick him and
+his out of the country. Hamlin, reading feverishly papers and reviews,
+neglecting, for the first time in his life, parochial duties, rejoiced
+in the premature conclusion that there burned no hate in English hearts
+against the German people to whom civilisation owed so much. He
+adumbrated peace before Christmas, and believed that a world-war would
+end war. For a parish priest, he might be reckoned, intellectually, far
+above the average. Men of keener and bigger brains shared his views. Sir
+Geoffrey Pomfret, as might be expected, thought otherwise. There is no
+pessimist like your optimist when he finds that the prognostications of
+his less robust moments have come to pass. He said almost truculently to
+his wife:
+
+"It is some comfort to reflect, my dear Mary, that _we_ were right, and
+all these axe-grinding demagogues wrong. I could hang Haldane with my
+own hand. And I feel in my bones that this is going to be a long
+business--a full year at least."
+
+The Squire was sorely taken aback, when Lord Kitchener trebled this
+estimate. He cursed politicians of his own party when Namur fell.
+Indeed, he blamed politicians and publicists of every colour and creed,
+pinning his faith to Army and Navy, sorely disgruntled with the Foreign
+Office and the Diplomatic Service. No more unhappy man gazed across his
+broad acres wondering miserably whether they would be his in three
+years' time.
+
+There ensued, as will be remembered, an amazing epidemic of national
+apathy, which aroused trenchant criticism in neutral countries. People
+bought maps and pins, and forgot to move the pins. Small things became
+again of paramount importance. The King had demanded half a million more
+regulars. But business went on as usual. A famous scribe has chronicled
+the supreme event of this transition period. Carpentier defeated
+Bombadier Wells! Possibly, the general indifference, an indifference
+largely due to ignorance, was superficial. It is significant that
+thousands of holiday-makers returned quietly to their own homes.
+
+Lionel Pomfret and his wife moved to Winchester, where Lionel was kept
+busy at the depot. For the moment, his own battalion of the Rifle
+Brigade was in India. Another battalion had joined the Expeditionary
+Force. Lionel might be called upon to join it at twenty-four hours'
+notice. Joyce Pomfret, his wife, perceived that he wanted to do so.
+
+An American, with the liveliest powers of observation, visiting
+Nether-Applewhite, and talking, let us say, to Mrs. Yellam and Fancy,
+would have gone away convinced that both these women, each the
+antithesis of the other, were unconcerned with the war. Really the
+thought of it obsessed them night and day. But they rarely spoke of it.
+Mrs. Yellam deliberately put from her the possibility of losing her son,
+partly because she had a positive assurance from the Parson that Alfred,
+as a public carrier, would be exempted from military service if
+conscription became necessary, and partly because the fact that she
+tended four graves in the churchyard must surely be taken into account
+by an All-wise and Merciful Providence. Like most of us, she had
+constructed her own particular statute of limitations and liabilities.
+She had endured more than her proper share of bludgeonings. Accordingly,
+her mind dwelt upon the war as affecting others. She grieved for Lady
+Pomfret and the Squire. If Master Lionel were taken--! The only son and
+heir to such a fine property--!
+
+Fancy, sister of a beloved brother serving in a battleship, fell a prey
+to more intimate and poignant considerations. As the child of a delicate
+mother who had died in giving her birth, pre-natal influence, perhaps,
+had endowed her with sensibilities common to all women who are
+physically weaker than they should be, with minds and imaginations more
+active than their bodies. From her tenderest years Fancy had indulged in
+meditations concerning angels. Her father habitually spoke of his wife
+as an angel hovering close to one whom she had never held in her arms.
+Fancy believed him absolutely. Darkness had no terrors for the child,
+when she went to bed, because, in addition to her mother, the four
+evangelists guarded her cot. She was quite positive that she had seen
+her mother, clothed in shining tissues, with wings like a dove. Matthew,
+Mark, Luke and John became personal friends with whom the mite affirmed
+solemnly that she talked and played. Her father, a dreamer rather than a
+doer, encouraged these fancies, which justified his selection of her
+Christian name in obstinate defiance of the wishes of his family.
+
+The first effect of the war upon Fancy, apart from her sisterly
+anxieties, was a tightening of the bond between master and maid. Mr.
+Hamlin held strong democratic opinions, a source of friction between
+himself and Sir Geoffrey Pomfret. He desired ardently a more equable
+distribution, not merely of wealth, but of health and intelligence. He
+believed absolutely in the equality of souls before God, and he
+recognised with ever-increasing satisfaction the potentialities of
+bodies and minds, if taken in hand early in life. His disabilities as a
+teacher shewed themselves in a too direct manner of speech, an
+abruptness caused by an excess rather than a lack of sympathy and
+perception. As Man and Priest, he shunned those easy by-paths beloved by
+many of us when we have disagreeable duties to perform. He marched
+straight to his objectives, regardless of objections.
+
+At first sight, Mr. Hamlin recognised in his parlourmaid qualities of
+which she herself was delightfully unconscious. As parson of a country
+parish which outwardly and inwardly had changed but little since the
+eighteenth century, he had fought desperately against the mental and
+spiritual apathy of his flock, seizing any weapon that lay to his hand.
+He worked with people for people, using Peter to convert Paul,
+constantly disappointed but rarely discouraged. He had been offered
+preferment; his sermons challenged interest outside Nether-Applewhite
+but he had no personal ambition beyond the consuming desire to help
+those whom he knew and loved to help themselves. Sir Geoffrey Pomfret
+supported him in this, but Parson and Squire worked upon diametrically
+opposing lines. All the instincts of the lord of the manor were
+protective. To that end he had made and was prepared to go on making
+personal sacrifices of leisure, pleasure and money. According to Hamlin,
+this encouraged helplessness and ignorance. Poverty held out eager hands
+for doles, displaying that comical form of gratitude which has been
+defined as a lively sense of favours to come.
+
+Hamlin, in common with most sincere reformers, divided the world into
+two classes--the helpers and hinderers. Between these lay, of course, a
+No Man's Land, where each class wandered aimlessly; the helpers, like
+the Squire, became hinderers and hinderers, like Uncle, might become,
+unexpectedly, helpers. Fancy, he acclaimed as a helper in or out of the
+debateable territory. Insensibly, her refinement and modesty would raise
+the tone in his kitchen, and radiate purer beams from a house hospitably
+accessible to all his congregation. From time to time, when he was alone
+at meals, he would ask the maid odd questions, and listen attentively to
+her replies. Such questions were disconcerting to Fancy, but, as was
+intended, they provoked intelligence to answer them. Ever since
+ordination, Hamlin had realised the almost insuperable barriers
+interposed by tradition, by training, by a thousand and one conditions
+and consequences, between the privileged and unprivileged classes. From
+the first he had set himself the task of breaking down such barriers. He
+candidly admitted that most of his parishioners were liars and
+hypocrites when it came to dealing with them frankly as between man and
+man, and still more so as between man and woman. They said,
+respectfully, what each felt that the Parson wished them to say,
+repeating the old shibboleths and sesames which opened, possibly, purses
+but not hearts.
+
+After the fall of Namur, he said to Fancy:
+
+"Do you feel patriotic?"
+
+The question of patriotism had been raised (and not laid) by a publicist
+in one of the current reviews, but the writer had presented a point of
+view coloured and discoloured by intimate knowledge of industrial
+England. He had not touched upon his theme as it affected the rural
+districts.
+
+"I hope so, sir," replied Fancy.
+
+"How far, I wonder, would your patriotism carry you?"
+
+He knew that Fancy was engaged to Alfred Yellam, and had congratulated
+her sincerely. He knew, also, that she had no intention of getting
+married for some time to come.
+
+Fancy stood at attention, much perplexed, but flattered. She had wit
+enough to realise that her master put the question in certain faith that
+she would endeavour to answer it truthfully.
+
+"I can't tell," she faltered. "Sounds silly, don't it, sir?"
+
+"Not at all. I am wondering how far my patriotism would carry me. What
+is patriotism, Fancy?"
+
+"Love of country, sir."
+
+"Why do we feel it?"
+
+His keen eyes rested quietly on hers.
+
+Fancy grappled with this, struggling to rise adequately to the occasion.
+
+"I suppose 'tis gratitude, sir."
+
+"Good. But gratitude is imponderable." For an instant he had forgotten
+that he was talking to his parlourmaid. Beholding a wrinkle, he said
+quickly: "I mean, that gratitude is not easy to weigh or measure. It is
+immense," he smiled at her, "when it marches hand in hand with
+self-interest. It shrinks horribly when self-interest marches or runs in
+the opposite direction. Do you follow me?"
+
+"Yes, sir; thank you, sir."
+
+"Don't thank me," he said, with a touch of irritation. He continued
+quietly: "We must all try to weigh our patriotism, because every one of
+us will be asked to exercise it. Leaving out the men able to bear arms,
+I am thinking for the moment of the women, young and old. An immense
+burden is about to be imposed on them. That is why I am speaking to you.
+I held the mistaken view that this war would soon be over. But it is
+plain that we are fighting an enemy overwhelmingly strong, who is
+setting all laws, human and divine, at defiance. I want to measure our
+patriotism, my own, yours, everybody's; but I do so in fear and
+trembling."
+
+Fancy, outwardly calm, presenting the impassive mask of the well-trained
+servant, became conscious of tingling and throbbing pulses. A strong man
+appeals most strenuously to the sympathy of a woman, when he permits her
+to have a glimpse of his weakness. She spoke impulsively, quite
+forgetting her "place," as she told herself afterwards.
+
+"You be thinking of Mr. Edward."
+
+It was a flash of intuition.
+
+The Parson had four stout sons, but Teddy, the youngest, was his
+Benjamin. Teddy and Joyce had inherited from Mrs. Hamlin joyous
+temperaments. The other sons resembled their father. All of them were
+"doing well" in a worldly sense. The eldest was a don at Cambridge,
+Fellow and Tutor of his College. The others were in business, climbing
+hand over hand the commercial ladder. Teddy, with not so good a start as
+his brothers, had entered the Railway Service. Since Fancy's arrival at
+the Vicarage he had spent a too short holiday at home. His jolly,
+unaffected ways captivated Fancy instantly. Life, as the maids put it,
+entered a dull house and filled it with sunshine. Teddy brought with him
+to Nether-Applewhite wonderful news. He had been offered and had
+accepted a billet worth four hundred a year--startling advancement for
+so young a man. His unaffected joy in his own good fortune warmed all
+sympathetic hearts.
+
+The Parson looked up sharply.
+
+"Yes," he answered curtly. He had finished breakfast, but still sat at
+table. Fancy saw that he was nervously crumbling a small piece of bread.
+
+"But Mr. Edward won't have to go, sir."
+
+Hamlin hesitated. But, inviting confidence, he was not the man to
+withhold it churlishly. He said slowly:
+
+"Between ourselves, Fancy, Mr. Edward wishes to go. I have a letter from
+him this morning, asking for my advice on the subject. It means, for him
+and me, a great sacrifice."
+
+Fancy gasped.
+
+"Oh, dear! You'll never let him go--surely?"
+
+Hamlin rose, a tall, gaunt figure.
+
+"My patriotism," he said grimly, "is not quite so lively, Fancy, as it
+was last night."
+
+He went out of the room. Fancy began to clear away the breakfast things,
+much troubled, sorely perplexed, alive to her finger-tips with the
+dismal consciousness that life had become suddenly confoundingly
+difficult. If Alfred took a notion to enlist, and if he consulted her
+about it, as surely he would, to what sort of strain would her
+patriotism be subjected? She, too, approached the question in fear and
+trembling. At the moment "things," as she vaguely expressed it, were
+going better and better for Alfred. War seemed to have oiled all
+commercial wheels. On Sundays her happy swain soared into an empyrean of
+prosperity and opulence where he sat enthroned high above her, talking
+exuberantly of a future she dared not envisage. The good fellow assured
+her that the Germans would soon be on the run, with English sabres
+hewing them down, with English bayonets in their fat backs. Would such a
+man, travelling at excess speed into Tom Tiddler's Ground, fingering
+daily larger and ever larger pieces of silver and gold, stop suddenly
+and abandon everything?
+
+He might.
+
+If patriotism seized him, as it had seized Mr. Edward, the strangling
+grip would choke ambition, self-interest, and woman's love.
+
+She told herself miserably that Mr. Edward would go. More, his father
+would not raise a finger to stop him. As the Parson left the
+dining-room, she guessed that his decision had been made already.
+
+Within a week it became common knowledge in the village that Mr. Edward
+Hamlin had enlisted in the Guards. He would appear amongst his father's
+parishioners in a private's kit, and salute respectfully his old friend,
+Captain Pomfret.
+
+He was the first "gentleman" in those parts to relinquish fortune at the
+call of duty. And his shining example, so his father perceived, had
+moved mountains of too solid flesh. As yet the great recruiting campaign
+had not begun.
+
+Two days afterwards George Mucklow followed the parson's son into the
+ranks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+SECOND IMPRESSIONS
+
+
+August--with its stupefying surprises, disappointments, and
+acrimonies--drew to a close. The black Sunday, at the end of the month,
+will never be forgotten by those who happened to be in London at the
+time. For a few terrible hours it was said that our Expeditionary Force
+had been annihilated. In the evening an official contradiction lifted
+the town out of a pea-soup fog of despair.
+
+Day by day, the Hun hordes advanced. Sir Geoffrey devoured his morning
+papers, talked over the immeasurable possibilities with his wife and
+Fishpingle, and finally determined to tap fresh information at its
+source. He went up to London, spent three days at his clubs, and
+returned to Nether-Applewhite an angry and disillusioned man. Having
+many friends in high places, some of them old schoolfellows and kinsmen,
+who had become pale and anxious Cabinet Ministers, he buttonholed them
+all, demanding the truth in his jovial, autocratic fashion.
+
+"A damned lot of Mandarins," he told his wife, "nodding their confounded
+heads and saying nothing. At the club, by Jove! I felt as if I were in a
+submarine with the periscope shot away. Every other fellow I met was
+'credibly informed' about something or t'other, and I could have made a
+pot of money, my dear, laying odds against their precious bits of
+information. The Government is scared stiff, at the mercy of the
+Labourites. Out of the welter of talk and twaddle I collared this
+conviction: the England we love has vanished never to return. Kitchener
+says that we shall be bled white, and the best will be the first to go."
+
+Lady Pomfret smiled faintly.
+
+"George Mucklow has gone."
+
+"Has he? I shall give Uncle a sovereign. Now, Mary, sick as I feel about
+the incompetence and crass stupidity of the people who have got us into
+this mess, I shall carry a stiff tail in the village."
+
+"I am sure you will, dear."
+
+"Yes. I asked 'em at the War Office what I could do. Get recruits, they
+told me. I shall mug up a lecture, dealing with military terminology. My
+people don't know the difference between a brigade and an army-corps.
+Coming down in the train, I thought out some useful diagrams. And, Mary,
+unless a miracle happens, the slaughter will be appalling. We must turn
+our dear old house into a Red Cross Hospital."
+
+"I had thought of that, Geoffrey. We are quite ready."
+
+"Get your staff together, a competent, professional nurse, and the pick
+of the women in the village."
+
+"Susan Yellam has promised to help."
+
+"None better! The sooner we get to work and stop jawing and fuddling our
+wits over newspapers, the less miserable we shall be."
+
+"Yes, yes."
+
+After dinner, the autocrat of Nether-Applewhite felt less unhappy.
+
+Upon the following morning, bright and early, Squire and Parson put
+their heads together at the Vicarage. Since the marriage of Hamlin's
+daughter to Lionel Pomfret, the somewhat strained relations between the
+two fathers had pleasantly relaxed. Hamlin had this advantage over the
+Squire. He could see and understand the autocrat's lordly point of view.
+The Squire was, and always would be, incapable of standing in the
+Parson's shoes. Possibly, the war had modified their extreme opinions.
+The Squire read and approved the leading articles in _The Morning Post_;
+the Parson read omnivorously papers and reviews, but he would have
+admitted candidly that _The Westminster Gazette_ embodied most
+accurately his ideas and judgments.
+
+Both men were uncomfortably conscious that grave blunders had been
+perpetrated by Authority.
+
+When they had lit their after-breakfast pipes, Sir Geoffrey laid before
+Hamlin a synopsis of what he had gleaned in London, and his impressions
+thereon, but he spoke temperately, perceiving whimsical gleams in his
+Parson's eyes.
+
+"A lot of fools believe that Russians are pouring through this country.
+An old pal and myself tried to investigate on our own. We went to
+Euston. By Jove! we dropped on to a porter who swore that he'd seen
+thousands of 'em passing through Willesden, big bearded men in queer
+uniforms, at dead o' night. To show the ignorance of these fellows,
+Hamlin, I'll repeat to you what was said in answer to my questions. The
+porter affirmed positively that he had seen six hundred thousand of 'em!
+_Six hundred thousand!_ I asked him, then, if he knew how many soldiers
+could be packed into one train. He scratched his head at that. Finally,
+he admitted that he could swear to three trains full of these bearded
+warriors. When I told him, as an old soldier, that three trains might
+carry three thousand troops he absquatulated. A man at the War Office,
+whose name I can't mention, told me, next day, that no Russians from
+Russia were passing through England. A few, coming from America to
+Russia, have aroused this ridiculous gossip."
+
+Hamlin nodded.
+
+"I told my wife last night that knowledge is simply unachievable,
+because the biggest men don't know yet the temper of the country. Nobody
+knows. But I'll tell you this: the Government is afraid of the
+Industrials, terrified of strikes, terrified of Ireland, terrified, of
+course, of being kicked out. A sort of mental palsy has 'em by the
+throat. They are putting out feelers, tentatively approaching everybody.
+It's a sorry business. The bright spot is the response from our
+Colonies; India is behaving well. That must be a rare sell for the
+Kayser. Well, well; I've let off a little steam. Let's consider
+ourselves and what we can do. Men must be got. In this village your dear
+boy has set a glorious example."
+
+"George Mucklow enlisted three days ago."
+
+"So my wife tells me. I propose to give a lecture in the school-house on
+elementary military dispositions, so that our people will be able to
+read their papers with some sort of intelligence."
+
+"They don't read papers--much."
+
+"I want you to fill the school-house for me."
+
+"With pleasure."
+
+"We shall open a Red Cross Hospital as soon as may be, at the Court."
+
+Hamlin promised cordial co-operation. He had never doubted the Squire's
+willingness or capacity to "do his bit." And very mournfully he told
+himself that, making due allowance for Sir Geoffrey's reactionary
+sentiments and hatred of politicians the indictment brought by him
+against the Mandarins was in the main justified. He said quietly:
+
+"Most of my considered judgments are in the melting-pot."
+
+"Bless my soul! I never expected to hear you say that. So are mine. The
+main question for all of us is this: will the country rise to this
+stupendous emergency? I suppose the mere mention of conscription gives
+you a fit?"
+
+"I carry an open mind about it."
+
+"You amaze me, Hamlin. We were both 'blue-water school' men."
+
+"Yes. You use the past tense. I am humbly sensible that what I have felt
+and acted upon, principles and theories essentially rooted in peace and
+for peace, is of the past. I shall leave them there. The needs of the
+present are obsessing." He paused a moment; when he spoke again his
+voice held conviction: "Out of the darkness, I see light."
+
+Sir Geoffrey asked eagerly:
+
+"What light?"
+
+"The light of a happier civilisation, of a broader and more sympathetic
+internationalism. The ashes of this conflagration may fertilise anew the
+whole earth. It must be so."
+
+He had surprised Sir Geoffrey a moment back; it was the Squire's turn to
+surprise him. Hamlin expected a wail from the many-acred lord of the
+manor, a Jeremiad personal and embittered. Inevitably the men of large
+estates, with little outside their domains to support them, must suffer
+cruelly. It was difficult, indeed, to envisage the Squire of
+Nether-Applewhite without his shooting and hunting, with a much-reduced
+establishment, constrained to cheese-paring, entertaining wounded
+Tommies instead of county magnates. Sir Geoffrey answered as humbly as
+the Parson:
+
+"God send it may be so, Hamlin. This is a war between autocracy and
+democracy; and I don't believe in democracies, as you know."
+
+Hamlin remained silent. The Squire continued, more vehemently:
+
+"Can you mention one country that is a democracy? Is America a
+democracy?"
+
+"We shall know soon."
+
+"Is it a democracy to-day? Uncle Sam says so. But isn't America governed
+by the few and for the few? Do you call France a democracy after the
+revelations of this Caillaux trial? Are we a democracy, in the true
+sense? Perhaps Switzerland comes nearer the standard mark, but I know
+nothing about Switzerland. I have always distrusted profoundly the mob."
+
+"That may be at the root of the trouble. Distrust breeds distrust. If
+this war should open all eyes, if men should learn to see each other as
+they are--much alike in the mass--and not, not, as they blindly believe,
+essentially different, why, then this war will not have been waged in
+vain."
+
+Sir Geoffrey wrestled valiantly with these words.
+
+"I grope, Hamlin, I grope. It sounds humiliating when one is past
+sixty."
+
+Hamlin nodded. He was groping, too, but he had greater faith in human
+nature. He said hesitatingly:
+
+"The result of all wars, according to history, has been this: the poor
+emerge poorer; the rich richer. I hope that it will not be so after this
+world-war. And our energies should be directed to that end, Pomfret:--a
+more generous distribution of material wealth, a happier understanding
+between all classes, a breaking-down of barriers everywhere, not only as
+between man and man, but as between nation and nation."
+
+Sir Geoffrey jumped up, holding out his hand.
+
+"You are a good fellow, Hamlin, sound at core. I have often misjudged
+you in the past. Forgive me! The past, as we knew it, is dead. We will
+work together in the present."
+
+Hamlin rose quickly, grasping the outstretched hand. After discussing
+practical details concerning the lecture, they separated. The Squire
+strode on to the village, much heartened. The Parson sat down at his
+desk to write the Sunday morning sermon. For a time, he put no pen to
+paper. He leaned head upon hand, thinking deeply. Out of the dump-heap
+which was left of his pet theories, he tried to piece together some sort
+of mosaic pavement upon which he could stand. It was difficult to
+realise the change in himself, more difficult to realise the change in
+the Squire. But the change had taken place. What would be the effect on
+his parishioners? Who would help? Who would hinder? If this war meant
+the regeneration and reconstruction of the world, all were involved. He
+thought of the dead Pope, who had passed away without exciting a ripple
+of excitement outside the Vatican. What part would his successor play?
+Would the Church of England grasp a tremendous opportunity? Would the
+Nonconformists gird up their loins for the spiritual battle?
+
+Consider Armageddon how he might and did, from every point of view which
+presented itself to an active and prescient brain,--the material outlook
+of diplomatists struggling to adjust the balance of European powers, of
+monarchs gazing at tottering thrones, of politicians still grabbing
+loaves and fishes, of business men thinking of their tills, of the rank
+and file in all countries working apathetically for their daily
+bread,--this thought rose up and dominated others. To him and men like
+him, ardently concerned with the potentialities of souls, ordained
+teachers of God's Word, called upon to interpret, so far as they could,
+the mysterious designs of Omnipotence, the issues shone clearly forth.
+Evil was arrayed against Good. The pomps and vanities of the world were
+marshalled against the powers of the Spirit.
+
+And, in the end, the Spirit would triumph.
+
+He began his sermon.
+
+The Squire, meanwhile, was approaching the _Sir John Barleycorn_ tavern,
+intending to have a word with William Saint, and, later on, with Susan
+Yellam and others, whom he regarded as aides-de-camp. Not being a very
+judicious reader of character, indolently disposed (because he was so
+busy himself) to accept his own people as they appeared to be, he
+regarded William Saint as a respectable, intelligent publican, who had
+been an excellent servant as first footman at the Court. He counted upon
+William as a likely "whipper-in" in the hunt for recruits. The Boniface
+of the _Pomfret Arms_, the larger of the two Nether-Applewhite taverns,
+happened to be stout and scant o' breath. He seldom stirred out of his
+snug bar-parlour. William Saint scoured the countryside, a very
+energetic, enterprising fellow.
+
+"Morning, William."
+
+"Good morning, Sir Geoffrey."
+
+The Squire removed his hat and wiped an ample brow. He had found Saint
+in the sanded tap-room, overhauling supplies. He noted the man's drab
+complexion, and wondered whether he consumed too much of his own beer.
+The publican asked his old master deferentially if he would drink a
+glass of ale. Time was when the Squire never refused such invitations.
+To-day, he declined the ale, saying trenchantly:
+
+"No, no. We shall have to tighten our belts, William. Take my word for
+it. You must reckon with being hit. We shall all be hit in our purses
+and our stomachs."
+
+William Saint agreed politely. He had no intention of being hit in
+either place, but he kept that to himself. Already he was secretly
+enrolled amongst the would-be profiteers, and resolutely determined to
+extract good from an ill wind. Sir Geoffrey stated the nature of his
+errand. The village must set an example to less beatified hamlets, such
+as Ocknell, for example. Did William think the younger men would come
+forward with enthusiasm? William was doubtful about the enthusiasm. With
+discreet pressure from Authority, they might be induced to follow the
+example of George Mucklow. The Squire slapped his thigh.
+
+"I am very pleased with George Mucklow. A snug billet shall be kept for
+him."
+
+William smiled, not very pleasantly.
+
+"His father, Sir Geoffrey, used pressure."
+
+"Did he, b'Jove? And very proper, too. Uncle is one of the right sort.
+Even his weaknesses are endearing. The truth is, William, in such
+damnable times as these we must keep an eye peeled for the good in our
+fellow-men, and wink the other discreetly."
+
+Perhaps William profited by this advice, and winked the eye farthest
+from Sir Geoffrey. After more conversation, dealing strictly with
+recruiting methods to be applied to a community essentially
+peace-loving, Sir Geoffrey walked off and on, very well satisfied with
+his talk with an old servant. William apostrophised his diminishing
+figure in language never printed nowadays.
+
+As the Squire walked down village he, too, like the Parson, thought
+seriously of what he should say to his people when he met them in the
+school-house. He was not concerned with spiritual issues. As a former
+M.F.H., he went a-hunting recruits with the same ardour and resource
+formerly consecrated to foxes. With profoundest sincerity he wished that
+he were of an age to bear arms. Indeed, he had offered himself, as an
+ex-Guardsman, quite ready to tackle a new drill-manual, to an old
+schoolfellow, now a general at the War Office. Sound advice had been
+tendered him.
+
+"You can serve your country, Pomfret, on your own pitch. We shall want
+men and food. Food may become the more difficult problem."
+
+Hence the allusion to tightened belts.
+
+Sir Geoffrey walked briskly, reflecting complacently upon his excellent
+physical condition. He might be slightly dazed in mind, but fit as a
+fiddle in body. An odd expression that! What constituted a "fit" fiddle?
+Obviously, an instrument tuned to the right pitch. He felt taut all
+over. What had kept him fit at an age when many men of his acquaintance
+were falling into the sere and yellow stage of life? Sport. To scrap
+sport filled him with apprehension. So far, sport in England went on as
+usual. When he visited Euston to make enquiries concerning Russians, he
+had seen many cheery-looking fellows on their way north, bent on slaying
+grouse and stags, reasonably convinced in their own simple minds that,
+Germans or no Germans, the world must wag on as before. Sir Geoffrey was
+not so optimistic. He knew much better. Already the supreme sacrifice of
+an only son had been demanded of him and made instantly. Other
+sacrifices bulked larger and larger in the immediate future. Standing in
+his fine hall, with the portraits of dead-and-gone Pomfrets looking down
+upon him, he had smelt anticipatingly the pungent odours of carbolic
+acid and iodoform. The stately saloon must be turned into a ward--! The
+mere thought was hateful, but he never flinched from it. Let the poor
+boys come! He would welcome them with courtesy and geniality. A Mandarin
+predicted a five-shilling-in-the-pound income tax! The Squire had
+responded generously to the Prince of Wales's Fund.
+
+The situation could be summed up in one all-embracing word--Hell!
+
+Little girls curtsied, small boys touched their caps, as the Autocrat of
+Nether-Applewhite passed them by with a kindly word and glance for each.
+He reflected: "The little 'uns are out of it, bless 'em!" He wondered
+whether respectful salutations would last his time. They were dear to
+him, outward and visible signs of the respect paid to Authority. Would
+they be scrapped? The Government had taken over the railroads. If the
+Labourites came into power, the land might be grabbed ruthlessly.
+
+Sir Geoffrey walked less briskly, as the possibility obtruded itself.
+
+He stopped first at Uncle's cottage. Mrs. Mucklow received him. Uncle,
+it appeared, was at work, thatching a dormer window, which exacted his
+particular skill. Yes, George, poor boy, had gone for a soldier. His
+father had insisted upon it.
+
+"Quite right," said the Squire heartily.
+
+Jane Mucklow sniffed. She dared not contradict the Squire, but a sour
+face betrayed her feelings. The Squire laid a sovereign on the
+mantelpiece, saying that it was for Uncle, with the donor's compliments.
+Jane thanked him, wondering whether the piece of gold could be
+despatched, surreptitiously, to George. Always, Uncle got credit for
+what more deserving individuals accomplished. An exasperating thought! A
+recital of her own aches and pains, however, provoked the promise of a
+bottle of port. Sir Geoffrey shook hands with his former cook on
+leaving, and said graciously:
+
+"Now, remember, Jane, if George gets leave and comes home, I want to see
+him. Send him up to the Hall."
+
+"Thank you kindly, sir."
+
+Sir Geoffrey went his way. As he approached the Yellam cottage, he
+muttered half audibly:
+
+"Good people. Good people."
+
+If he had known the truth--! At this moment Jane Mucklow was reviling
+him, because she laid her George's approaching death at the Squire's
+door. She made quite sure--and so did George--that he would be killed in
+his first action. With much reluctance we present these two old servants
+of the Autocrat smiling deferentially to his face and cursing him behind
+his back! And he believed so absolutely in their honesty and sincerity.
+
+Five minutes later, Mrs. Yellam dusted a chair which needed no dusting.
+The Squire sat down upon it. He liked and respected Susan Yellam, and
+she--you may be sure--was well aware of that. No insincerity lurked
+behind her welcoming smile. But, in justice to the unhappy Jane Mucklow,
+it must be stated that Susan happened to be independent of the Autocrat.
+Many times and oft had Uncle been "behindhand" with his rent. More than
+once Sir Geoffrey had remitted that rent altogether, simply because
+Uncle was so knowledgeable about foxes and deer, and such a
+wrath-disarming scallywag even in his cups. Mrs. Yellam paid her rent
+punctually, and possessed independent means. She had never been in
+service. She exercised brains, rare in any village, which enabled her to
+apprehend something withheld from the unprivileged classes, to
+wit:--that position carried with it crushing responsibilities and
+disabilities. Mr. Fishpingle, so near and dear to Sir Geoffrey, a friend
+and servant of fifty years, had often pointed out to her the sacrifices
+made by the Squire for his people. And she had kept eyes and ears open
+to these, deducing inferences from them.
+
+For some minutes Sir Geoffrey talked about the Red Cross Hospital,
+enlisting Susan's sympathies. Co-operation had been promised already to
+Lady Pomfret.
+
+"My lady be none too strong," observed Mrs. Yellam.
+
+The Squire was not of Mrs. Yellam's opinion, but he didn't say so. He
+mentioned his proposed lecture, and solemnly invited her considered
+views on the recruiting campaign. She was not enthusiastic.
+
+"Be they wanted real bad, Sir Geoffrey?"
+
+"Of course they are."
+
+"Wanted as soldiers more than they be wanted on the land?"
+
+The Squire frowned. He had not weighed the pros and cons of a question
+hardly raised as yet even by far-seeing men.
+
+"Lord Kitchener asks for them."
+
+"I be afeard they'll hang back. 'Tain't easy to believe that us is at
+war. My Alferd be doing wonnerful well; trade stimulated as never was."
+
+"I hear that Alfred is engaged to be married. Tell me all about it."
+
+At such moments the Squire was at his best, keenly interested, avid for
+details, always ready to assume sponsorial obligations for the unborn,
+and promising five pounds if the little strangers appeared in couples.
+Mrs. Yellam spoke of Fancy.
+
+"Bless my soul! She opened the Vicarage door to me this morning. A very
+pretty girl, on the thin side, but modest and intelligent. I shall
+congratulate her. Your Alfred is a very sterling fellow. He deserves the
+right sort of wife. By the way, we shan't want him. You can tell him so
+from me."
+
+Mrs. Yellam said gravely:
+
+"Alferd be my only son, and I tells him that others should go first."
+
+"Um! What does he say to that?"
+
+"Nothing--not a word."
+
+"Well, Susan, I want Alfred to help me. As a carrier he is constantly
+meeting young men and young women. Let him talk to both."
+
+"Yes, Sir Geoffrey. Alferd be a very forcible man, wi' plenty o' brave
+words and thoughts. Certainly this war be a marrer-stirring affair. I
+hopes as how Master Lionel be enjoyin' good health, and his dear lady?"
+
+Sir Geoffrey chuckled.
+
+"Captain, Susan, Captain. And only yesterday, I remember, he came
+sneaking in here, always sure of a bull's-eye." He glanced at his watch.
+"Time, confound it, is always hurrying on. I'm due at the Home Farm.
+Before I go, one word in your faithful ear. It will travel no further
+for the present, hey?"
+
+"You knows that, Sir Geoffrey."
+
+They both stood up, a fine couple. The Squire patted Mrs. Yellam's
+substantial shoulder. Then he lowered his jolly voice:
+
+"You asked about Mrs. Pomfret. After Christmas I am expecting the sort
+of present I want badly. You understand----?"
+
+"Lard bless 'ee, Sir Geoffrey, and her too. Tis gert news."
+
+"Isn't it? But mum's the word!"
+
+He went on to the Home Farm, whither we need not follow him. But it may
+be added, incidentally, that the translation of Benoni Fishpingle from
+the position of butler at Pomfret Court to the more responsible post of
+Bailiff had worked greatly to the Squire's advantage and happiness. He
+returned home to luncheon in reasonably high spirits, having prodded the
+sides of many fat bullocks. He found Lady Pomfret on the terrace facing
+the park. From her face he divined instantly that something of
+importance had happened. She came up to him, with her slow, measured
+walk, holding out a telegram. It was from Lionel.
+
+"Expect Joyce and me to-night. I go to France this day week."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+RECRUITING
+
+
+The Squire's lecture was an immense success. The village school-house
+overbrimmed with his "people." With a big blackboard behind him, and
+chalk in hand, the lecturer talked simply and convincingly upon a
+subject at that time unfamiliar to his audience, a subject vital to any
+understanding of military movements. He explained the nature of
+platoons, companies, battalions, brigades, divisions and army corps. He
+presented, in short, an army in being. Loud applause greeted this first
+half of the lecture. The second half was devoted to the urgent cause of
+recruiting, and was not, perhaps, quite so enthusiastically acclaimed.
+The Squire, abandoning chalk and blackboard, thrust his hands in his
+pockets, and spoke trenchantly. We need not chronicle what he said. Men
+like him, all over the country, used the same arguments, almost exactly
+the same words. Such speakers forgot what had been said by Tweedledum
+and Tweedledee during the piping times of peace. Men and women, herded
+together, were invited to scrap the slow judgments and convictions of
+their lives. They had been assured again and again by politicians of
+variegated complexions that a mighty navy was fully adequate to defend
+our Empire against attack. Need it be added that such assurance,
+embodying as it did the accumulated wisdom and experience of
+generations, could not be cast incontinently as rubbish to the void.
+English politicians--using the word in the strongest antithesis to
+statesmen--have never realised the temper of the country towards
+themselves, the curious and striking indifference of the average man,
+engrossed in his own avocation, to any policy that he has not the wits
+or leisure to assimilate thoroughly. The confidence of this average man
+in the government of the moment has always been poignantly touching, a
+confidence stolidly based upon a belief in the fundamental common sense
+of the nation as a whole. Upset that belief, and the average man becomes
+at once helplessly befogged.
+
+After the Squire had spoken, old Captain Davenant said a few words in a
+more Cambyses' vein. Unhappily, the Captain lacked the geniality and
+persuasiveness of Sir Geoffrey. He believed in the choleric word,
+snapped out viciously. He spoke as he had often spoken in the
+barrack-yard, or in the hunting-field when some heavy-witted yokel had
+headed a fox. Probably he was shrewd enough to realise that this fox of
+recruiting might be headed, and governed himself accordingly. The
+Captain read the lessons on Sunday in the same peremptory tones, raising
+a rasping voice and glaring at the congregation--a very mirth-provoking
+performance. Uncle embodied the Nether-Applewhite verdict on such
+readings of the Scriptures:
+
+"'Tis a rare lark to hear 'un!"
+
+Fancy and Alfred attended the lecture together, and Alfred accompanied
+his sweetheart to the Vicarage _au clair de la lune_. They had sat at
+the back of the school-house amongst the younger people, and had
+listened attentively to sundry comments. Alfred, of course, accepted as
+gospel whatever the lord of so goodly a manor might be gracious enough
+to say. Being a carrier, and passing daily through many manors, he had
+made obvious comparisons between his Squire and others to the advantage
+of Sir Geoffrey Pomfret. Remember, also, that as yet, although he kept
+silence on the point, he had not considered the possibility of England
+wanting him, a widow's only son, actively engaged in the prosecution of
+a business vital to the needs and necessities of a prosperous village.
+He hadn't a doubt in his mind, after listening to a burning harangue,
+that the younger men ought to down tools of peace and shoulder rifles at
+the word of command. Some of the half-whispered comments disturbed him.
+
+"Are they cowards?" he demanded of Fancy.
+
+"Oh, I can't think that, Alfie."
+
+"You heard them growling like a lot of cantankerous hounds. I'd a strong
+notion to speak my mind, I had. 'Twas lucky for them that Uncle Habakkuk
+was sitting quiet and peaceful amongst the quality. I'll be bound he
+picked up a shilling or two, being the happy father of the hero. George,
+pore soul, stands higher than I ever expected to see him. 'Tis a sad
+pity the boy ain't able to hear the brave words as was said to-night by
+Squire and Captain. He's standing on a giddy pinnacle, to be sure, and I
+mind me, in cricket-field, how he'd shut both eyes when a ball came at
+his legs. I see him like that, quavering, on the field of battle."
+
+Alfred chuckled. Fancy squeezed his arm, whispering fears not for George
+Mucklow, but for a better man:
+
+"Alfie, please don't joke about that."
+
+"Ah, well, Fancy, 'tis a fact that many of our boys are like George.
+Shifting manure's their proper job, and they do that so slow that I get
+weary watching 'em. Young Master Teddy is the real right sort. What he's
+done, giving up a grand position, fills me nose-high with pride. And too
+little was said about him,--a very notable oversight."
+
+"That was because Mr. Teddy is quality."
+
+"You're right, my pretty maid. Are you aware, Miss Broomfield, that your
+fingers are playing the piano on my ribs?"
+
+Love-making put to flight the less agreeable theme.
+
+Mrs. Yellam and Jane Mucklow went home side by side. Jane, as the mother
+of the hero, maintained an aggressive silence. Susan Yellam said, with a
+faint inflection of interrogation:
+
+"You be a proud 'ooman to-night, Jane?"
+
+"You be wrong, as usual. I bain't nothing of the sart."
+
+"Squire and old Captain spoke up so handsome about your Garge."
+
+"Be I the old fool they takes me for? 'Twas soft soap, Susan, ladled out
+in a big spoon; flimflam I calls it. Habakkuk can ha' the pride, and
+welcome. He be fair swollen wi' that and ale as Garge is payin' for."
+
+"I listen to no ill talk about my brother, Jane."
+
+"Then you'd better walk wi' some one else, Susan Yellam. You sees God
+A'mighty's hand i' this; I don't."
+
+She stamped along home in a silence Mrs. Yellam was too wise to break.
+Jane was a Christian and a churchgoer. But chronic dyspepsia seemed to
+have affected her conscience and principles.
+
+She had predicted aright. At the _Sir John Barleycorn_ Uncle was
+drinking much ale paid for, indirectly, by the hero of the hour. The
+gaffers and married men, including George's married brothers, listened
+approvingly. Uncle "understudied" the Squire as he addressed his
+friends, thrusting his hands into his pockets and standing very upright.
+
+"'Twas a notable evening, neighbours, but not a thing fresh to me, you
+understand? Me and Squire went over his so heart-stirrin' remarks two
+days ago, and me and old Captain had talk together this very marning.
+Far be it from me to say as they used my own words egzactly; I bain't a
+scollard, although I can an' do hold me own wheresomedever I finds
+myself. And I tell 'ee, just as Squire did to-night, 'tis our duty to
+cry 'Forrard' and keep on a-hollerin' so long as breath be left in our
+dear bodies. We got to jine in the hunt, boys, and roll our big buck
+over in open. I means, some way, to be in at death, and 'twould be a
+grand privilege to slit his royal throat. I tell 'ee, one and all, that
+the eyes o' the world be on Nether-Applewhite."
+
+Uncle drank some ale, amidst much applause. An old gaffer piped up:
+
+"Neighbours and true friends, this be a wondersome time, but I makes
+bold to say that we country fellers bain't properly esteemed in Lunnon
+town. I minds me when I jined what they called a deppitation to that
+gert city. I'd no stomach to go along, seein' as I'd no better clothes
+than I stands up in to-day. But I was out-talked, sonnies, as has
+happened to me by my own wife, time and time agen. We marched very
+proper down such a noble street as I'd reckoned might be found in
+Kingdom Come and nowheres else. And marchin' along so proud and joyous
+as never was, a tremenjous, red-faced man, a-settin' top side of a 'bus,
+wi' the reins in his hand, sings out: 'Halt!' Well, neighbours, we comes
+to a full stop, a-lookin' up at he, and, dang me, if he don't ask a very
+ridic'lous and shameless question."
+
+The old man paused solemnly, looking about him. Some had heard the story
+before; one of the others said curiously:
+
+"Whatever did he say?"
+
+"He says this, sonnies, loud and clear: 'Tell me this,' he says, 'how do
+they keep the crows off the wheat when you fellers comes to town?'
+Neighbours, they was his words. And it struck me all of a heap as we
+wasn't, so to speak, properly esteemed in Lunnon town; and, more, 'tis
+hard to believe that what Habakkuk Mucklow here says is true. There be
+too much i' the world, neighbours all, for it to be gapin' at we."
+
+Uncle felt that he had overstrained a figure of speech. But he dealt
+faithfully with his aged interrupter.
+
+"What did 'ee up and reply to 'un, Granfer?"
+
+The old gaffer gazed around.
+
+"Ah-h-h! I says nothing at the time, Habakkuk Mucklow, but a very
+forcible remark comes into my mind just one week too late, when I was
+makin' spars in Hollywell Wood. I could ha' downscrambled 'un. 'Twas in
+the month o' November that we marched so gay adown that there Regency
+Street. And in November ther bain't no wheat to keep crows off. 'Twas a
+shameless and very ignerunt remark."
+
+He cackled joyously as a good Samaritan refilled his glass. William
+Saint, feeling cautiously the pulse of his customers, hazarded a remark:
+
+"The likely young fellers sat together at the end of the room, and they
+kept together afterwards. I see none of them here with us to-night. What
+does that mean?"
+
+"I'll tell 'ee," replied Uncle promptly, "and in duty bound, being so
+moral a man, I means to tell Squire to-morrow marning. They be afeard,
+as my Garge was, till I talked to 'un. Such talk as mine, soul-stirrin',
+upliftin' words, be wanted bad in Nether-Applewhite. The young fellers
+has got to fight for they as brought 'un into this wicked world. I
+fought in my time, as you all knows."
+
+"Where?" asked William Saint.
+
+Uncle replied scornfully:
+
+"Never you mind where, Willum Saint. I can fight still, let me tell 'ee.
+If you doubts that, take off your coat and come wi' me to stable-yard."
+
+William Saint declined politely the invitation.
+
+"Why, Uncle, I meant no offence. We all want to fight the Germans, not
+to quarrel amongst ourselves. You have a glass o' ale with me."
+
+Harmony was restored. Those present, who could hardly be expected to
+fight, agreed cordially that others must do the job for them. The
+youngsters needed encouragement.
+
+"Wi' the end of a boot," concluded Uncle.
+
+The lecture had taken place at seven. At nine the port circulated round
+Sir Geoffrey's mahogany. Hamlin was present and Lionel Pomfret. How
+sadly one recalls the chatter of those early days, the high hopes, the
+confidence that Might would crumble away against Right, the belief in
+the steam-roller--Russia. On paper, a swift result seemed assured. The
+Squire had thrown off London vapours. His own words had intoxicated him.
+He admitted that recruiting might hang fire in villages like Ocknell,
+but not amongst _his_ people. Lionel backed him up. Lady Pomfret and
+Joyce said nothing. The Parson hoped that it would be so. When Sir
+Geoffrey had said everything to be said, twice over, he turned as usual
+to his wife for an approving nod strangely withheld.
+
+"Well, my dear Mary, you agree with me?"
+
+"About the necessity of getting men--yes. But I am not so sanguine as
+you, Geoffrey, about the patriotism in our village."
+
+"Bless my soul!"
+
+"I think Mr. Hamlin shares my apprehensions."
+
+"I do," admitted the Parson gravely.
+
+Lady Pomfret continued gently:
+
+"I was talking, this afternoon, with Susan Yellam. She looks ahead. She
+faces facts, as we do. But she knows the village better than we do."
+
+"My dear----!"
+
+"I have been talking, too, with Ben."
+
+"So have I, Mary; so have I."
+
+Lady Pomfret smiled.
+
+"Are you quite sure, Geoffrey, that you have been talking with Ben, and
+not at him? He is too courteous to interrupt you and too kind to
+contradict you."
+
+"What does old Ben say to you?"
+
+"What Susan Yellam says. The villagers, generally, believe that our
+present army and navy can beat a world in arms against us. You disabused
+them of that this evening, but Captain Davenant undid some of your
+stitches."
+
+The Squire fumed a little.
+
+"The old boy let them have it straight from the shoulder."
+
+"Exactly. Personally, I deplore such methods."
+
+"Sheep have to be yapped into the fold."
+
+"I wonder if Mr. Hamlin thinks so?"
+
+Thus challenged, Hamlin spoke--tentatively.
+
+"I have never been able to regard men and women as animals. I admit a
+superficial similarity. Dogs are nearest to us, but what an Atlantic
+stretches between us and them! Would any training turn a Pekinese into a
+pointer? Or a pug into a greyhound? But you can train any child, of any
+nationality, into what you reasonably please, provided always that you
+are dealing with a sound mind in a sound body. Sheep, under certain
+conditions, have to be yapped into folds, because they are sheep. The
+Prussian system yaps men into the ranks. I would sooner try other
+methods."
+
+The Squire inclined his handsome head.
+
+"Try your own methods, Hamlin, and good luck to you."
+
+He answered quietly: "I shall try them next Sunday."
+
+"You don't say so? From the pulpit?"
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I approve with all my heart."
+
+For the moment it rested there. Lionel began to talk of his coming
+campaign. The elder men and both the women, wife and mother, listened to
+his young, eager voice. How keen he was! How sure of himself and of his
+men, particularly the men. He talked persistently of Mr. Thomas Atkins,
+of his artful divagations in peace and his whole-souled valour in war.
+Hamlin reflected that it was good to listen to such talk, good to be
+young and valiant, at such a time, good even to die, if the supreme
+sacrifice were demanded, clean of limb and mind, leaping joyously
+upward, unfettered by disease or vice, _fit_--to use the boy's own
+word--for the greatest adventure of all.
+
+He heard his own boy speaking, just such another! Britain had thousands
+of them, the fine flower of careful training, of a courtesy constantly
+exercised, of a courage sharpened to finest edge by the grindstone of
+games and sports, of an intelligence not quite so keenly tempered, but
+alert enough in moments of stress, of a "morale" which nothing could
+dismay.
+
+Surely they would be invincible?
+
+When Lionel waxed anecdotal, Hamlin's thoughts wandered to the women. He
+had been a stalwart champion of the "Cause," till the militant
+suffragettes took to smashing windows and smacking policemen. One effect
+of the war, and no inconsiderable national asset, was the subsidence of
+these tempestuous petticoats, never to flutter again, so he hoped. From
+women this essentially virile parson had always expected and exacted
+great things. The true prosperity of any country, so he held, flowed
+from them and culminated in them. He had recognised, even at college,
+their immeasurable potentialities--a favourite word of his. To ignore
+their claims, politically, he contended in and out of print, was a
+colossal blunder. But, quite apart from the granting or withholding of
+female suffrage, he desired ardently to see women doing intelligently
+and thoroughly the work peculiarly their own, whether as matrons or
+spinsters. The death-rate amongst babies appalled him; the physique of
+young girls overworked in over-crowded, over-heated factories and shops
+roused this austere parish priest to fever-heat. He had marvelled at the
+astigmatic insight displayed by sincere statesmen and philanthropists,
+an insight ludicrously so-called, which overlooked women as the
+mightiest lever to raise and regenerate a nation.
+
+And now, in the dim twilight of a world in gloom, he perceived a beacon
+steadily shining. The women would have their opportunity. One could
+adumbrate triumph or disaster by the effort, sustained or otherwise,
+made by them. The men would play their part, if the inspiration of the
+women lay behind them. And in the inevitable dislocations of all human
+enterprise, both during and after the war, he beheld women stimulating
+the men either upward or downward, for good or ill, according to the
+spirit which burned within them.
+
+He gazed at Lady Pomfret and his daughter Joyce, as their eyes dwelt
+upon the son and husband about to sail for France. He could guess what
+sensibilities lacerated their hearts. Outwardly, each remained calm.
+They would be so when the moment of parting came, speeding their warrior
+on his way with smiles, keeping back the tears till he was out of sight.
+
+Hamlin walked home across the park, and let himself into the Vicarage
+with his latch-key. It was past eleven, and, to his surprise, Fancy had
+not gone to bed. As she lit his candle he chided her with the touch of
+testiness which had ceased to frighten her.
+
+She said quickly:
+
+"I wanted to see you, sir."
+
+"See me at nearly midnight? What about? Surely to-morrow morning would
+do?"
+
+"I wanted to sleep well to-night."
+
+Without a word, he led the way into his study, and lighted two more
+candles.
+
+"Sit down," he commanded. "You look tired."
+
+"I feel excited like, sir."
+
+He examined her more attentively, noticing the dilation of her pupils,
+so marked as to alter her expression. Big black eyes seemed to be
+burning out of a white face, but he attributed this seeming pallor to an
+ill-lit room.
+
+"What excites you, Fancy?"
+
+"I sat with Alfred Yellam at the back of school-house amongst the young
+fellows."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Before Alfred left me, he told me to tell you, sir, that the young
+fellows was not too well pleased with what Captain Davenant said. Alfred
+was real vexed at their remarks. He thought you did ought to know."
+
+"I'm much obliged to Alfred for a timely hint. But couldn't this have
+kept till the morning?"
+
+"There's something else, sir."
+
+"Out with it!" He smiled more encouragingly.
+
+"After Alfred went, Molly told me as everybody in village was saying as
+how George Mucklow's father _made_ him go, and that upset the other
+young men.... And then...."
+
+Her soft voice faltered and died away.
+
+"And then...?"
+
+"Molly and me fell to talking about Mr. Edward."
+
+The sympathy in her voice was almost too much for the Parson. He shaded
+his eyes with his hand. She continued in a lower tone:
+
+"Excuse me, sir, for asking you something, but I do want to know so
+bad."
+
+"Ask your question, Fancy."
+
+"Did you tell Mr. Edward to go?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Ah! He wanted to go, and you didn't raise a finger to prevent him. If
+you had, maybe he'd have stayed."
+
+"I--I don't think so."
+
+The Parson's voice was not too steady. How sorely he had been tempted to
+raise that finger none would ever know. Fancy went on, breathlessly:
+
+"Molly and me thinks that those who can least be spared may have to go,
+if--if the others hold back."
+
+"I see. You are thinking of your Alfred?"
+
+He lowered his hand, looking straight at her.
+
+"If you please, sir. He be terrible put out at the others hanging back."
+
+"I give my opinion for what it is worth, Fancy. In these deep matters
+none can speak for another. I do not presume to speak for Alfred. But
+Lord Kitchener, if he were here, would assure you that Alfred is
+certainly not needed yet, nor likely to be for a long time."
+
+"Thank you, sir. That does hearten me. But, if he should want to go, and
+if--if he left it to me, what should I do? What ought I to do?"
+
+Her big eyes were flaming with interrogation. The Parson dared not
+temporise with her. All his thoughts concerning women seemed to have
+become focussed on this individual case. All that the finest gentlewomen
+in the Empire were feeling expressed itself poignantly from the mouth of
+his parlourmaid. All his convictions concerning the potentialities of
+the soul became fortified. They burst suddenly into full flower. Yet he
+answered curtly, distrustful of sentiment when tremendous issues were at
+stake.
+
+"You will tell him, Fancy, to act according to the dictates of his own
+conscience."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Do you mean that you will tell him that, regardless of your own
+feelings?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+She got up, begging his pardon for keeping him out of bed. As he rose
+from his chair, he wondered what he could say to comfort her; some word
+of solace that might woo sleep to her tired brain. They went together
+into the small hall. He took her hand.
+
+"Have courage and faith. Pray that these may be vouchsafed to you and to
+all of us. Something tells me that you have both already. And if so,
+Fancy, it is well with you. Good-night."
+
+"Good-night, sir."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+PARSON'S METHODS
+
+
+Next day, immediately after breakfast, Sir Geoffrey summoned his two
+footmen and the odd man, so called because he does odd jobs in a big
+establishment and works harder for less pay than any other servant
+except, possibly, the scullery-maid. The first footman, Alfred Rockley,
+had married recently his cousin, Prudence, and, for the moment, the
+Squire regarded him as ineligible for service elsewhere. Charles, the
+second footman, was held by the Squire to be an oaf, sadly in need of
+barrack-yard discipline; the odd man had been taken from the Home Farm,
+and felt more at home in a barn than in the pantry.
+
+They had attended the lecture of the previous evening.
+
+Sir Geoffrey marshalled them in front of him, as he sat at his desk, and
+said genially:
+
+"Now, Alfred, what do you think about joining up?"
+
+The gallant fellow answered promptly:
+
+"I'm ready to enlist with Captain Pomfret, Sir Geoffrey."
+
+"So he told me, and it warmed the cockles of my heart. But you have a
+wife and----"
+
+"Somebody else coming, Sir Geoffrey," added a true son of
+Nether-Applewhite.
+
+"Yes, yes; a hint of that reached me, and I was much pleased. Babies,
+b'Jove, ought to command premiums nowadays. Under the circumstances,
+Alfred, you can go back to the pantry. Single men must march first."
+
+Alfred thanked the Autocrat, and withdrew. Charles happened to be the
+Squire's godson, and not a credit to his sponsor. Sir Geoffrey stared at
+his bovine face, now exhibiting a grin which might be seen at funerals
+and on all momentous occasions, a grin indicating nervousness and
+apprehension. If Sir Geoffrey could have looked through a very massive
+desk, he would have reprimanded Charles for standing on one foot and
+scratching his calf with the other.
+
+"What do you propose to do, Charles?"
+
+"I be thinking, Sir Gaffrey."
+
+"Good. I want my people to exercise such thought as God has given to
+'em. What conclusion have you come to--hey?"
+
+"Mother don't fancy me going for a soldier."
+
+"Possibly not. But this is a case for your conscience, not for your
+mother's fancy."
+
+He spoke with increasing testiness.
+
+"I be thinking, Sir Gaffrey," he repeated, with a still broader grin.
+
+"Very well. Off with you! Think hard for the next twenty-four hours, and
+I'll see you again."
+
+"Yas, Sir Gaffrey."
+
+Charles withdrew, still grinning, and joined Alfred in the pantry, where
+he used encarmined language which provoked a rebuke from the middle-aged
+butler who had stepped into Fishpingle's shoes.
+
+Sir Geoffrey eyed the odd man.
+
+"What have you to say, my lad?"
+
+"I ain't going to the wars, I ain't."
+
+"Oh, you ain't going to the wars? Why not?"
+
+"Because I'm quite satisfied with my place, sir."
+
+"By the way, what's your name?"
+
+"William Busketts."
+
+"To be sure. Unmarried?"
+
+"I'm walking out with Jemima Pavey, a very respectable young woman."
+
+"What does Jemima Pavey say about it?"
+
+"She thinks with me, sir. Most of us think the same, as we ain't ready
+to go to furrin' parts. If the Kayser invades Old England, I'm ready to
+shoulder gun, stand behind a tree, as brave as my neighbours, and take a
+true shot at 'un."
+
+Sir Geoffrey stared at him. Did all the young men in his beloved village
+think this? And, if so, how was Authority going to deal with such a lot
+of damned fools? He said slowly:
+
+"Has it occurred to you, my lad, that if able-bodied men like you refuse
+to enlist willingly, they will be made to do so? Willy-nilly----!"
+
+"Ah-h-h, you're talking of conscription, sir. Old England won't never
+stand that. 'Tis devilish Proosianism, so they tell me."
+
+"Who has told you that? Answer me!"
+
+"I have heard William Saint say so."
+
+Sir Geoffrey suppressed an oath. That William Saint, a former servant of
+his own, a tenant, a trusted friend, b'Jove! should so poison men's
+minds at such a time seemed incredible. If this were true, the world was
+indeed upside down. He fidgeted in his chair; his face flushed; wrath
+bubbled within him. He began to despair of his fellow-countrymen.
+However, he choked down his rising rage and said freezingly:
+
+"You can go, sir."
+
+"Where to?"
+
+"Back to your work for the present."
+
+William Busketts retreated, slightly moithered, but more at ease. He had
+expected an explosion, followed by the "sack."
+
+Sir Geoffrey leaned back in his chair, sorely discomfited. It would be
+pleasant to record that happier fortune awaited him in his stables, in
+his gardens, and at the Home Farm; but truth will leap from her well on
+rare occasions. Out of all the young men interviewed upon this memorable
+morning, young men more or less dependent upon the will and whim of
+their interlocutor, only one promised to enlist forthwith. The others
+touched their caps, bobbed their heads, and professed themselves willing
+to do anything except bear arms for their country.
+
+Luncheon at Pomfret Court, accordingly, was not a very cheery meal. The
+Squire sat silent and abstracted; the troubles in his brain upset his
+appetite.
+
+In the afternoon, he called upon Captain Davenant, whom he found
+apoplectic with indignation. The Captain had a modest establishment, but
+he had discharged two men who--so the Captain affirmed--preferred to
+guzzle ale when a unique opportunity for sticking pig was held out to
+them.
+
+"Country's rotten," concluded the Captain. "It may be saved by the
+gentlemen, by God! sir, but not by our yokels."
+
+The Squire protested against this, saying, mildly for him:
+
+"Perhaps, Davenant, our methods are at fault."
+
+"That be damned!" roared the Captain.
+
+"Well, well, it's fairly obvious that so far our recruiting campaign has
+not been an overwhelming success. Hamlin means to have a go at 'em on
+Sunday. I haven't a notion how he'll tackle the job, but there it is.
+What is your opinion of William Saint?"
+
+"A very shifty fellow, Pomfret, with a face the colour of skilly. He
+licks your boots. I wouldn't let him black mine. By the way, I've
+promised Habakkuk Mucklow half-a-sovereign for every cove he collars."
+
+"That we should have come to such a pass!"
+
+"Light a fresh cigar, and we'll go to the stables. When I'm fed up with
+mankind, I always take a squint at my gees."
+
+"So do I, Davenant. But they'll have to go, too."
+
+"Mine are ready for 'em."
+
+This talk took place in mid-September, at a moment when an astrologer,
+doing a roaring trade not far from Piccadilly Circus, predicted
+confidently that the final disappearance of the All-Highest would take
+place upon the twenty-fifth day of October, 1914! Many believed him. And
+the mere sight of our splendid regulars route-marching over country
+roads, singing "Tipperary" as they swung along, deepened in the hearts
+of those who beheld them the conviction that French's Army was quite
+sufficient to stem the Hun tide, and, later on, sweep it back to Berlin.
+The pacifist press was widely read by men who had never looked at a
+newspaper before.
+
+Unspeakable atrocities had begun in prostrate Belgium. Some refused to
+credit them. Others shrugged their shoulders and remarked blandly that
+war was not five o'clock tea. Out of the seething mass of
+contradictions, affirmations, exaggerations and recriminations, men in
+the rural districts who could hardly read and write were invited to step
+forward and abandon the beaten tracks. Can one blame them, to-day, that
+they shrank at first from a desperate plunge into the unknown?
+
+Upon the following Sunday, Nether-Applewhite Church was crowded to the
+galleries.
+
+All over the country, churches were filling up or emptying according to
+the virtue that emanated from the preachers of God's Word. One wonders
+whether ministers of the Gospel apply this numerical test to themselves.
+It is certain, however, that those, like Hamlin, whether in Church or
+Chapel, who laid aside for the moment merely Biblical exegesis and the
+expounding of doctrine and dogma, and concentrated spiritual and
+intellectual energies upon dealing faithfully with the problem of human
+conduct as affected by a catastrophic war, had no reason to complain
+that they addressed empty pews.
+
+Captain Davenant read the Lessons as if he were declaiming the Riot Act.
+The good man believed that the young men present were shirking hounds to
+be rated and whipped up to their Master. Under the lash of his rasping
+voice, even Mrs. Yellam, louder in fervent response than usual, winced
+and frowned. The Parson, in his three-decker, wondered whether a
+discreet hint would serve to tone down the zeal of this militant
+Christian, who positively wallowed in the slaughters and comminations of
+the Old Testament. The Captain, as a stout upholder of Church and Crown,
+must be handled delicately; a dry old stick breaks so easily. Uncle sat
+with his wife in the Mucklow pew, half-way down the nave. He carried a
+high head, and thought of the half-sovereigns soon to be rattling in and
+out of his pocket. Jane sat beside him, sniffing audibly. Alfred Yellam
+and Fancy Broomfield were opposite to each other, with the aisle between
+them.
+
+Hamlin ascended the pulpit.
+
+He chose for his text a maxim of Bishop Berkeley:
+
+"Where the heart is right, there is true patriotism."
+
+The shuffling of skirts and occasional coughs soon died down. Sir
+Geoffrey, from his coign of vantage in the chancel, perceived with some
+astonishment that Hamlin had a script on the cushion in front of him. As
+a rule he preached without notes. The Squire inferred rightly that the
+Parson deemed his theme to be of such paramount importance that he
+distrusted the effect of one careless, unconsidered word. Hamlin,
+however, possessed long sight. He could read his typewritten sheets
+without lifting them. Few in the congregation were aware of them.
+
+He began with the curt statement that the actual word "patriotism" is
+not to be found in the Bible. This challenged attention immediately. The
+Squire fidgeted. He considered that Hamlin had made a shockingly bad
+start. A weapon had been thrust into the hands of recalcitrants. This
+apprehension, however, vanished as the preacher set forth convincingly,
+in words that children could understand, the obsessing love of country,
+of the Promised Land, which informed and sustained God's Chosen People
+during forty weary years in the wilderness. With a swift transition, he
+passed to the New Testament, dwelling, with more insistence, upon the
+love that had inspired simple, obscure men to forsake home, country and
+kindred, to fight God's battles in new and strange countries. When he
+paused, before touching his real theme, he had the ears of his
+congregation. He indulged in no gestures, his familiar tones fell
+quietly. So far, what he had said was preparatory, novel neither in
+theme nor treatment. None knew better than he how sadly his parishioners
+were lacking in imagination. His success, as a preacher, had not been
+gained by dealing with abstractions or by inviting ill-educated persons
+to transplant themselves to surroundings and conditions which the wisest
+of moderns find difficulty in apprehending. Hamlin believed in the
+personal appeal.
+
+He leaned forward out of his pulpit, gazing keenly at the faces upturned
+to his.
+
+"I am wondering," he said slowly, "how many of you young unmarried men
+will be here a few Sundays from now?"
+
+He paused again. His voice was gentler:
+
+"I am wondering, also, what the mothers and sisters and sweethearts of
+these young men are thinking to-day, and what part they mean to
+play--to-morrow." Then he said austerely: "Where the heart is right,
+there is true patriotism."
+
+Many hearts began to beat faster, as he went on, picking his way,
+pausing again and again, but never faltering. The Squire, upright in his
+comfortable chair, became conscious of the man's grip upon everybody
+present, gentle and simple. He could see their tense faces.
+
+"I have never doubted one great thing. I believe in the soul and its
+immortality. In God's sight all souls are equal, because they are part
+of Him. From birth that soul is struggling to inform the body, in all
+its functions. It never tires; it never despairs. I dare to affirm that
+it is most active when body and mind are fighting against it, spurning
+it, denying, perhaps, its very existence or power. I affirm, further,
+that this quickening spirit within us may be least potent to achieve its
+purpose when body and mind are stagnant, steeped in apathy, content with
+the things of this earth, food, drink, clothes, money and--pleasure.
+
+"Try to believe, for a moment, that your souls are omnipotently right.
+In the text I have chosen, Bishop Berkeley uses the word 'heart.' I take
+it that he meant mind. Are your minds right? Are they working in harmony
+with your souls? Each of you is called upon to answer that question in
+relation to this world-war, and what that war may demand of each of us.
+It is the duty of some of you to go, not grudgingly, not because
+pressure is brought to bear upon you, not because you want to pose
+before others as more valiant than they are, not for any selfish reason
+whatever, but in the same spirit which informed the apostles, men like
+yourselves, hard workers, absorbed, as you are, in their own affairs,
+who abandoned everything with one unswerving purpose before them--the
+regeneration of a world in pain.
+
+"A great Cause is animating all of us.
+
+"This war may inspire some of you to actions undreamed of in days of
+peace, to a valour which you cannot measure if you would, because the
+hour provoking it has not yet come. Sooner or later that hour comes to
+the greatest and the humblest. And the manner of our rising to it may
+shape anew our lives and other lives, and determine our progress here
+and hereafter. From the cradle to the grave, each of us carries a
+sleeping energy capable of immense expansion, which wakes when the great
+opportunity presents itself.
+
+"Some of you, I daresay, are unconscious of this latent power. We don't
+expect much of a child, do we? A child eats and plays and sleeps. But
+children of the tenderest years have performed amazing, incredible
+deeds. Why? Because of this Divine fund of spiritual force. And we who
+are past middle-age; how difficult it is to say, with any certainty, how
+early we began, resolutely, to exercise what is called the human will.
+
+"I ask you again, are your hearts right? I repeat again that your souls
+are right. Obey the voice of conscience, and it will be well with you.
+It is the duty of some of us to stay here in Nether-Applewhite. I wish
+with all my heart that I could go, but I must stay. A very solemn
+obligation rests with the women. I have never doubted the immense
+influence consciously or unconsciously exercised by you women over men.
+Are your hearts right? Do you realise, thinking, as you must do, of your
+dependence upon your bread-winners, that you may be hindering instead of
+helping those whom you love; that, in urging them to stay at home, you
+may be taking from them an opportunity to rise to their full stature,
+never to be offered again?
+
+"What does Bishop Berkeley mean by _true_ patriotism?
+
+"Are the Germans true patriots? Let us admit that they are passionate
+lovers of their Fatherland. But their patriotism would seem to be an
+insensate fury of self-interest, shrinking from no outrage to be
+inflicted on others, provided only that the material end be
+accomplished--world-dominion. I cannot bring myself to speak, before
+young women and children, of the atrocities deliberately wreaked upon
+helpless Belgians. They are so abominable that details are unprintable
+in clean newspapers.
+
+"Is, then, their form of patriotism true?
+
+"What form will your patriotism take? Will it be true, springing to life
+and strength, out of a right mind inspired by the soul; or will it
+pattern itself after the Prussian model, concerning itself with material
+gain regardless of spiritual loss?
+
+"Ask yourself these things.
+
+"Before I close I want to say this. For many years I have worked amongst
+you, in sickness and in health, in prosperity and adversity, and your
+welfare is dear to me. Sometimes I have felt discouraged, acutely
+sensible of failure and disappointment. For many of you I have cherished
+ambitions, and some of these have been realised. And it is this which
+has sustained and fortified me in the dark hours which none can escape.
+What one can do may be done by another; not in the same way, perhaps,
+but in the same direction--upward and onward. I believe, with all the
+faith that is in me, that you will rise, with right and steadfast
+hearts, to meet this stupendous emergency. I am at your service. My
+house is open to you when I am in it. If you want counsel, if you feel
+perplexed, as you may well do, come to me, and together we will attempt
+to find a way. I shall not appeal to any one of you, personally."
+
+The congregation filed out of the church. Many walked home in silence.
+Alfred Yellam booked no orders in the churchyard on that Sunday. Susan
+Yellam smelt no odour of baked meats as she passed the baker's. Uncle,
+after greeting them not so exuberantly as usual, said with conviction:
+
+"A very moving and proper discourse. 'Tis strange that me and Pa'son do
+think just alike. I felt as I might ha' been preaching that upliftin'
+sermon myself. His motter be mine--upward and onward! He be counting on
+me to play my part, and I shan't disapint 'un."
+
+His wife said tartly:
+
+"There be one preacher you'll never disappoint, Habakkuk."
+
+"You means Pa'son?"
+
+"I means--yourself."
+
+Uncle laughed, patting her shoulder.
+
+"Old dear, I've heard 'ee make more foolish remarks."
+
+Mrs. Yellam said no word about the sermon till the midday meal was over.
+When Alfred had lighted his pipe, she came and sat near him.
+
+"Alferd?"
+
+"Yes, Mother?"
+
+"There be moments when Mr. Hamlin do soar, so to speak, high above me. I
+be a very unhappy 'ooman this day."
+
+Alfred opened his mouth and left it open, gaping with amazement. The
+Parson's sermon had moved him to the marrow, particularly the references
+to the women, because he was well aware of the influence exercised over
+him by his mother and Fancy, the more percolating because he never
+admitted it except to himself. Nevertheless he knew that his mother was
+subject to moods and tenses which no ordinary man could conjugate. She
+held herself strictly to account upon matters affecting conduct,
+somewhat complacently aware that less robust spirits cited her as a
+model. Her cocksureness about others, oddly enough, accentuated
+pitifully her private opinion about Susan Yellam. From time to time
+Alfred alone was privileged to behold this strong woman self-shorn of
+her strength. He could remember well a terrible fortnight after Lizzie
+died, when Mrs. Yellam lay in bed and refused even his efforts to
+console her. The remembrance of her grim, set face came back to him now,
+as he stared mutely at her, wondering what he ought to say, and
+miserably conscious that the situation lay far beyond him.
+
+Why should his mother be unhappy?
+
+Had he been a student of history, he might have reflected that Boadicea,
+possibly, ruled wisely everybody except herself.
+
+Mrs. Yellam continued:
+
+"I have the notion that Mr. Hamlin expects too much o' me."
+
+"What a queer, upsetting idea!"
+
+"I be asking myself if my heart be right. It bain't."
+
+"Maybe 'tis your stomach, Mother."
+
+"No, Alferd. I be no true patriot."
+
+"Well, I never! If such a woman as you are is bogged down, where are we,
+I ask?"
+
+"You be in the right path, Alferd. 'Tis some comfort to think o' that.
+Now, let me bide wi' my own thoughts. Fancy be waiting for 'ee. Be kind
+to the maid, Alferd, if so be as you find her, like me, down on beam
+ends after this marning's sermon."
+
+"Fancy'll be all right, I wager."
+
+"Maybe. I tell 'ee this: we women be fearfully and wonnerfully made--a
+puzzle to ourselves and all mortal men. That be a fact, my son. I knows
+this too hard for any man to understand. If you stayed on here wi' me,
+wi' the whole-souled notion o' comforting an unhappy 'ooman, I should
+wax peevish wi' 'ee. God forgive us! We be cruel to they we love, when
+life goes wrong wi' us."
+
+Alfred wisely had a squint at his motor-'bus to hearten himself up, and
+then took the road to the Vicarage.
+
+Mrs. Yellam cleared away the dinner-things and washed them up. It was
+too early, as yet, to expect visitors. She went into the parlour and
+opened the big Bible, staring at Alfred's name and her own. She had rid
+herself of him cleverly. Had he stayed, she would have broken down. She
+wanted to make him swear to remain in Nether-Applewhite. She had made up
+her mind to do so that very morning. Every word spoken by the Parson
+seemed to be directed at her; his chance shafts quivered in the heart
+that was not right.
+
+She closed the Bible.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+FANCY'S ORDEAL
+
+
+Parson's methods bore fruit. Within the week several young men came
+forward, and certain young women, on their own initiative, formed a
+small society to encourage enlistment. Uncle claimed two or three
+half-sovereigns from Captain Davenant to which, possibly, he was not
+entitled. The Captain raised a protest against one case, having specific
+information that female influence had been diligently at work. Uncle
+laughed.
+
+"Ah-h-h! That be true, Captain. But 'twas me as talked first to the
+young 'ooman, training her, so to speak, and puttin' my brave words into
+her pretty mouth. But I bain't one to keer about money. Everybody knows
+that. I be working as never was for my whole Sovereign, King Garge, not
+for half 'uns."
+
+Captain Davenant paid the extra half-sovereign. Uncle's disarming grin
+proved irresistible.
+
+Ultimately, Nether-Applewhite did better than contiguous villages. In
+Ocknell, with an impoverished squire and a nonentity for a parson, no
+young men came forward during the first three months.
+
+About Christmas, George Mucklow returned home on leave, hardly
+recognisable. Nether-Applewhite was impressed by his martial bearing,
+when he strode down the village street, cocking his head at a
+much-admired angle, with his buttons shining in the sun. Young Hamlin,
+with a corporal's stripes upon his arm, had leave at the same time.
+George and he received an ovation, wandering in and out of the cottages,
+talking and laughing as if war were the greatest lark in the world.
+Recruiting was much stimulated. The girls liked to be seen with a "boy"
+in khaki.
+
+Meanwhile, Lionel Pomfret had been with the gallant Seven Divisions,
+sharing their hardships and glories. He wrote home in good spirits,
+making light of what he had endured, but a postscript in a letter
+received in early December was illuminating.
+
+"At present I feel that when I return to Nether-Applewhite I shall never
+want to leave it again. All the German prisoners taken by our men are
+fatly content. One chap, formerly a barber at Nottingham, told me that
+he'd been looking for us ever since he joined up!"
+
+Perhaps the proudest moment of Lady Pomfret's life came to her when she
+visited a wounded Green Jacket at Netley, who had been in Lionel's
+company. The man said to her:
+
+"During the retreat from Mons, my lady, the Captain kept up all our
+spirits, laughing at us and chaffing us. We loved him."
+
+So far, Lionel had not been touched, but, much to the anxiety of his
+mother, he never mentioned his own health. She knew how delicate his
+lungs were. Would they stand the cruel rigours of the trenches in
+mid-winter?
+
+She was now established as the Commandant of the Red Cross Hospital, and
+wore a red uniform which became her vastly well. For three months,
+preceding Christmas, wounded Belgians were cared for and entertained by
+the devoted band of women who rallied round the lady of the manor. Jane
+Mucklow cooked for the wounded; Susan Yellam was installed as
+bottle-washer in chief. Sir Geoffrey would march through the Long Saloon
+and wonder where he was. All the beautiful furniture and porcelain had
+been put away. Nine cots on each side of the stately room stood side by
+side. In the centre was a large table covered with puzzles and
+paraphernalia for indoor games. At smaller tables the convalescents
+played interminably at cards, piquet and ecarte. They amused each other
+very well, not so dependent upon their entertainers as the Tommies who
+succeeded them. One man sang beautifully; another wrote admirable verse.
+Before the war, the versifier had been on the staff of a Brussels
+newspaper. All these men were unanimous about one thing--an _idee fixe_.
+They hoped and prayed that they might never be asked to fight again.
+Some declared their intention of remaining for ever and ever in England.
+It was heart-breaking to listen to their accounts of ravished and
+pillaged Belgium.
+
+Above them hung the famous French prints. Beautiful, laughing dames and
+exquisite cavaliers looked down upon bandaged heads and shattered limbs.
+The contrast never failed to strike Sir Geoffrey. His prints stood for
+life as he had known it, gay, easy, refined, cultivated, essentially
+aristocratic. Was the Old Order, which he loved, passing inexorably out
+of sight? Would life, after the war, cease to be leisurely and easy for
+the upper classes? Would the payment of a stupendous National Debt fall
+upon them? And, if so, how would it be met? Would a triumphant democracy
+divide up the big estates? Could they be run properly upon diminished
+rent-rolls?
+
+He confronted these questions ill at ease inwardly. Outwardly, as he had
+assured his wife, he carried "a stiff tail." The politeness of the
+Belgians oppressed him. If he came into the ward and addressed a man
+lying in bed, the poor fellow would struggle to sit up and salute him.
+One cheery-faced boy, with eight wounds, passed the time laughing and
+crying; then he would fall asleep, smiling in his sleep like a child.
+
+But recruiting had been damped down by Authority, because housing and
+equipment were so short. Sir Geoffrey was not encouraged to stump the
+county--as he offered to do--and deliver his lecture. His old
+school-fellow at the War Office gave him a hint:
+
+"We want the men, but not too many at once."
+
+In the village, women not engrossed with Red Cross work sewed feverishly
+upon shirts and pyjamas, and knitted comforters. The Squire examined
+some of the pyjamas, and exclaimed:
+
+"Thank God! I don't have to wear them."
+
+Shooting and hunting and football went on much as usual, to the
+amazement of our French Allies. Some of our cavalry regiments in France
+wanted to import a pack of hounds. The French Mandarins forbade it.
+
+Early in January, a curt telegram from the War Office reached Sir
+Geoffrey, as he stood in the hall, after a day in his coverts, shooting
+cock-pheasants.
+
+"Lionel Pomfret wounded, degree not stated."
+
+Next morning, Sir Geoffrey hastened to London and to the War Office. No
+details were forthcoming. The men he saw were kind and sympathetic.
+Captain Pomfret might be badly wounded, but the odds were against that.
+The anxious father couldn't find out where his son was, or even where he
+was likely to be. He engaged rooms at a hotel and spent a wretched
+afternoon at his club. Twenty-four hours dragged themselves by. He was
+wondering how much longer he could bear the strain, when the second
+telegram reached him.
+
+"Arrived Southampton. Destination unknown. Love. LIONEL."
+
+The Squire, you may be sure, shared these good tidings with many
+friends, who congratulated him warmly. Obviously, the wound must be
+light. Exasperations followed, thick and fast. Sir Geoffrey hurried to
+the War Office, and thence to the Admiralty, and finally to Waterloo,
+where, eventually, he had the joy of seeing his son step out of a train,
+with a much-bandaged head, but apparently fit and in the highest
+spirits. A bit of shrapnel had knocked him down, inflicting a
+superficial scalp-wound, which was healing rapidly. Across his overcoat
+was a perfectly-defined cut made by a bullet which had missed him and
+killed the man at his side. He shewed his father a scar upon his neck,
+where another bullet had grazed him. Lionel talked fast and fluently. He
+had been in innumerable small actions since Mons, and had seen whole
+regiments cut to bits.
+
+His destination for the moment was a private hospital for officers in
+Belgrave Square. There his wound was dressed, and Sir Geoffrey talked
+persuasively to the Sister-in-charge and Surgeon, who, under pressure,
+allowed their patient to dine with his father quietly at a club.
+
+Sir Geoffrey never forgot that dinner.
+
+War, as soldiers see it, was brought vividly home to him by a young man
+who talked of indescribable horrors as if they were negligible.
+Everything was accepted by Lionel as part of the "show." The father
+listened, thinking of the pin-pricks which, since August, had so
+irritated his sensitive skin, and felt grievously ashamed of himself.
+But, in Lionel's place, with Lionel's amazing experience, he, too, was
+sensible that he would talk coolly. That was part of the tradition of
+the Service. Tremendous issues must be so faced.
+
+He took his son back to Belgrave Square at half-past nine.
+
+Lionel slept soundly. The Squire lay awake most of the night. Throughout
+dinner, he had suppressed his feelings. And on the threshold of the
+nursing-home, the father had found no other words than these:
+
+"It's jolly to have you back again, old chap."
+
+That was all, and, perhaps, enough.
+
+In bed, the Squire had no inclination to sleep. He wanted to think
+things out. He wanted to adjust past and present conditions, to strike
+some happy mean between them. Could he interpret the significance of
+this never-ending slaughter? Lionel had told him of a German regiment
+pushing too far ahead, and annihilated, not a man left. That had been
+described, also, as a "show."
+
+More--and worse--Lionel ridiculed the suggestion of an early peace.
+Kitchener was under the mark. The war was quite likely to last five
+years.
+
+Five years!
+
+Men such as his son, decent, quiet, sport-loving chaps, admitted with a
+laugh--with a laugh!!!--that the enemy was "hot stuff," and that
+attrition would determine the end--and nothing else.
+
+Attrition.
+
+He attempted to envisage what attrition meant where millions were
+engaged. Put the lot at twenty millions. How many would perish? What
+Divine Purpose could be accomplished by such a holocaust?
+
+But his boy was safe for the next few weeks.
+
+Two days later he brought him back to Pomfret Court.
+
+Lionel received a soul-warming reception from gentle and simple within
+and without a five-mile radius of his home. Apart from the young man's
+personal charm and good looks, he happened to be the first officer to
+return home wounded. The fact that the wound was not serious, that he
+treated it as a convenient peg upon which to hang three weeks' leave,
+made no difference. Indeed, it increased rather than diminished his
+influence in Nether-Applewhite so far as recruiting was concerned. His
+gay voice, his happy inconsequence, the vitality that radiated from him
+as he moved briskly from cottage to cottage, or rode up to talk to men
+working upon the property, achieved effects so far-reaching that
+possibly Hamlin was the only man in the parish able to measure them. The
+Squire and Davenant had appealed trenchantly for volunteers, using the
+time-worn arguments of Authority and believing sincerely enough that
+deaf ears might hear their message if it were shouted loud enough. The
+Parson, wiser man, had appealed to those same ears believing, with
+greater conviction, that noise and violence, veiled threats, bribery in
+any form, would defeat their ends. Right action, he contended, would
+come from within, at the persuasive, insistent call of conscience.
+Lionel Pomfret hit the trail--to use the Western expression--which
+wanders between the high road and the low. Looking at the gallant
+fellow, sitting erect on his horse, it seemed clear even to eyes dimmed
+by living in the twilight of unintellectual surroundings, that he
+impersonated something which captivates the rural mind more than
+anything else--excitement. Lionel told the labourers, none of whom had
+been farther afield than Salisbury or Southampton, stories of France
+bubbling over with humour and high spirits. And if this
+light-heartedness had astonished his father, we can imagine what
+bewilderment it begat in simpler minds. Many of them realised that in
+holding back they were missing _fun_! One hardly dares to use such a
+word. But it burst, like a bomb, from the lips of a man who had been
+"out there," who had been "through it," who bore scars, and who laughed
+at them.
+
+Many joined up; more held back.
+
+Laugh as he did about everything that concerned his own adventures and
+misadventures, Lionel became intensely serious concerning the main
+issue, trembling still in the balance. Kitchener of Khartoum must have
+more and more men. Otherwise, the sacrifices made and the hardships
+endured by the splendid Seven Divisions would be in vain, and,
+ultimately, directly or indirectly, the enemy would triumph.
+
+Charles, the second footman, and the odd man, enlisted within a week of
+Lionel's return home. Their places in the establishment were taken by
+maids.
+
+Upon the first Sunday in February fill-dyke, Alfred Yellam walked out,
+as usual, with Fancy. She had noticed, during the Morning Service, that
+Mrs. Yellam's responses were not quite so fervent as usual, and the
+sermon, a good one, seemed to fail to hold Alfred's attention.
+Servant-maids are acute observers where their interests are concerned.
+They divine a frown before the master's forehead is wrinkled; they
+anticipate a harsh word before it is spoken by the mistress. Alfred
+walked beside Fancy in silence. This, taken by itself, was not
+disturbing. The more privileged classes often wonder why humbler couples
+sitting upon benches in the parks, or walking aimlessly amongst the
+trees, appear to be so satisfied with a silence which they stigmatise as
+stupidity. If, on the other hand, curiosity led our Olympians to
+interrogate the more thoughtful of these couples, they might be
+astonished to discover that the never-ending chatter in our
+drawing-rooms provokes much the same indictment from those whom they
+regard as far below them. The shrill screams of laughter, the
+parrot-house babble, fox-trotting, and the bacchantic waving of arms
+bare to the shoulder are often summed up as--"monkey-shines." To men and
+women who work desperately hard throughout the week, the silences of
+Sunday steal unawares, lapping them to a rest which is real refreshment.
+Fancy, for example, loved to stroll beside Alfred, feeling his sturdy
+arm about her waist, and knowing from its convincing pressure that his
+thoughts were dwelling upon her as hers dwelt upon him, revelling in a
+future which would bring them closer together.
+
+But, to-day, somehow, his silence was not so reassuring.
+
+For the time of year, the weather happened to be mild. Spring was abroad
+in the land. Fancy heard her voice in the bleating of the new-born
+lambs; she beheld her in the snow-drops; Spring's sweet breath beat upon
+a pink cheek when the south-west breeze sighed in the yews and
+pine-tops.
+
+And yet, misgivings assailed the maid.
+
+They had walked from the Vicarage, through Nether-Applewhite, and past
+Mrs. Yellam's cottage whither they would return for tea. Fancy had
+learnt to love the village with its general air of sleepy, comfortable
+prosperity. She would be perfectly content to live here all her days.
+Occasional jaunts to Sarum or to the exciting side-shows of Boscombe and
+Bournemouth could only serve to enhance the more solid charms of home.
+Alfred had spoken once, at the moment when they left the _Sir John
+Barleycorn_ tavern behind them.
+
+"Do you like William Saint, Fancy?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I don't know, Alfie. I ain't never spoken to him, nor him to me. 'Tis
+his face, I suppose."
+
+"Mother thinks he's a danger to me."
+
+"Gracious!"
+
+"William moves with the times, a far-seeing man. And snug, with money in
+bank and credit, too. Mother says he's after my business. I got ahead by
+buying my motor-'bus. Yes--William Saint might have sneaked my good
+business. He knows folk far and wide, as I do. That's bread and cheese
+to a carrier. And he knows how to tickle 'em with pleasant words. That's
+cakes and ale."
+
+He said no more. Fancy felt vaguely troubled. She had taken Alfred's
+profitable business for granted. Fellow-servants and villagers had
+assured her, with a sub-acid inflection underlying congratulation, that
+she was lucky indeed to have got so warm a man as the carrier. Like most
+of her class, she entertained nebulous ideas about how money was made,
+although she had been constrained all her life to use such money as came
+to her thriftily and with a very lively sense of its elusive attributes
+in slipping through careless fingers. The slow building-up of a business
+had never engrossed her thoughts. But she knew well enough, poor child,
+how rapidly such a business may disintegrate, and fall to pieces. That
+calamity had been her father's bitter experience.
+
+They followed the Avon, strolling leisurely up-stream till they reached
+a small covert much beloved by hunting-men because it always harboured a
+stout fox.
+
+"Let's go in wood," said Alfred.
+
+"Won't it be damp, dear?"
+
+"I want to talk to you."
+
+Her heart beat faster. Something was coming--What?
+
+Alfred led the way to a hurdler's hut, a rough shed, where the lovers
+sat down upon a heap of dry chips. A delicious smell of bark filled the
+air. George Mucklow had worked here often, before he was dragooned into
+the Army. With the smell of bark, dominating it, rose the odour of damp
+earth, always so significant, bearing its double message. From earth we
+have come; to it we must return. Fancy's sensitive nose could detect yet
+another odour. An ancient coat, much soiled by time and weather, had
+been thrown upon the pile of chips. In an olfactory sense the coat was
+eloquent of labour, of long perspiring hours and all that such hours
+hold. Fancy's nostrils were not offended. But she refused to sit on it.
+Alfred, wearing his Sunday best, was not so particular.
+
+He wasted little time in preliminaries. And he spoke with a geniality
+assumed, as Fancy guessed, for her benefit.
+
+"The young Captain," he began, "has stirred us all up with his pleasant
+tongue. Now don't jump! Let me tell my tale."
+
+He told it simply. Upon the previous Friday, it appeared, Alfred had
+fallen into talk with the Pavey boys, who worked on a farm between
+Nether-Applewhite and Salisbury. The Paveys were reckoned by Sir
+Geoffrey to be stout specimens of sound breeding. Jemima Pavey, it may
+be recalled, "walked out" with William Busketts, the odd man. It is
+likely, therefore, that the enlistment of William affected profoundly
+Jemima's brothers, both single, both of military age. Alfred, urged on,
+no doubt, by Lionel Pomfret, had taken upon himself the task of
+persuading the Paveys to follow William to the wars. According to
+Alfred, a hot discussion had ensued. The Paveys were regarded by the
+Squire as sound in body but weak and plastic of mind. Wiser men than the
+Autocrat of Nether-Applewhite consistently underrated the intelligence
+of young men like the Paveys, abnormally acute when stimulated by
+self-interest. Ultimately, so Alfred said, the Paveys had twitted him
+offensively upon the fact that he preached what he did not practise.
+And, oddly enough, poor Alfred was not prepared for this sudden turning
+of tables. He, too, was single and of military age. The fact that he
+happened to be engaged in a lucrative business served to sharpen railing
+tongues. At long last, after much vituperation (as Alfred admitted) on
+both sides, the Paveys had delivered a momentous ultimatum. They pledged
+themselves to enlist at once, if Alfred agreed to join them. More, they
+were prepared to answer for half-a-dozen others. To gain time for
+thought, Alfred invited them to obtain some similar pledge from these
+others. And, before Service that morning, the pledge had been
+forthcoming. In time, if Alfred donned khaki, eight of the best would
+follow so striking an example. Alfred concluded pleasantly:
+
+"You see, Fancy, that I'm up against it."
+
+Engrossed with his own exciting narrative, he had failed to notice her.
+From the beginning of the tale to the end, she never moved. The
+impending sword had fallen upon her frail body, lacerating cruelly every
+fibre of her being. All fears, all sensibilities which from birth had
+differentiated her from more robust young women, sensibilities which
+dwelt upon things spiritual rather than material, sensibilities which
+had been further quickened by her father's unmerited misfortunes,
+constraining her early in life to envisage the future as likely to hold
+more pain than pleasure, these rose up and choked utterance. Had Alfred
+looked at her, at this poignant moment, his decision--not as yet
+reached---might have been different. He looked away from her, staring
+through the open side of the hut, seeing the rows and rows of trees,
+standing like soldiers, awaiting the inevitable axe.
+
+Presently Fancy said quietly:
+
+"Have you spoken to your mother? Does she know?"
+
+Alfred turned, taking her hand. But the supreme moment had passed. Fancy
+was now herself again, or rather she had become what her will and
+conscience made her to appear--an outwardly calm young woman, who,
+having swiftly read her own soul, was seeking to read the soul of the
+man beside her.
+
+Alfred answered hesitatingly:
+
+"Mother's wonderful. I never quite understand her. I ain't said a word,
+but back of her dear mind is something."
+
+"Are you going to tell her?"
+
+Alfred squirmed a little, certain that Mrs. Yellam would oppose his
+going. And he could not reckon accurately what obedience he owed to a
+mother in such a matter. He said gently:
+
+"Never mind that, Fancy. What do you say?"
+
+He held her hand tightly, but sat beside her rigid as she was.
+Afterwards, again and again, she wondered what her reply would have been
+if her lover, at such a crisis, had appealed to her body instead of to
+her mind. If he had seized her in his arms, kissing her passionately,
+evoking a passionate response from her, exciting her physical senses,
+lulling to sleep her conscience, could she have resisted such an appeal?
+
+It was not made. Did he deliberately leave her free to speak calmly, as
+he had spoken? Was he thinking of her? Was he thinking of his mother?
+Who could blame him if all thought were focussed upon himself? And his
+next words confirmed her suspicion that it was impossible for any man,
+at such a time, to wean consideration from issues so personal and so
+insistent.
+
+"That's why I spoke to you about William Saint. If I go, Fancy, I must
+find a man to take my place, see? 'Taint likely as I'll find anybody who
+knows folk as I knows 'em. And if William Saint sneaks in, maybe I won't
+find what I leave when I come back."
+
+He spoke very earnestly, gripping her hand. Her sympathy for him welled
+up, drowning all thoughts of self. Alfred had leapt to heights. She
+realised the extent of the sacrifice he might make. And she felt,
+instinctively, that the sacrifice would be made. A curious exaltation
+possessed her. Alfred had thrilled her soul. If he went, true
+patriotism, as Mr. Hamlin interpreted the elusive word, would be behind
+his going. And he looked so stolid, dear man, so unconscious of the
+spiritual forces stirring within him.
+
+She said impulsively:
+
+"You mean to go, Alfie?"
+
+"If you approve."
+
+She drew a deeper breath. Then the decision rested with her. If she
+burst into tears, if she flung herself into his arms, if she whispered
+to him, blushingly, the arguments which come pat to any woman's tongue,
+when her happiness is at stake, he would stay. The burden laid upon her
+seemed greater than she could bear. Her withers were wrung. In her
+perplexity she lurched here and there, staggeringly. She caught at
+straws.
+
+"And if your mother disapproves?"
+
+"Ah-h-h! Maybe she will."
+
+"But, if she does--? Answer me, Alfie. I be hanging on your words."
+
+He said heavily:
+
+"I ain't one for argument. I only know this, dear, if I go, others will
+go, too. And the men are wanted, so Captain Lionel says. And if he says
+so, 'tis so. I feel as I ought to go, if you approve. When it comes to
+Mother, I'm weak-kneed. If I leave her out, Fancy, 'tis because I know
+what's tearing her, the thought of the graves in churchyard. 'Tain't in
+Mother as 'tis in you, to stand hand in hand with me, and forget her
+dear self."
+
+Desperately, she clutched at another straw.
+
+"You may be right, Alfie, about Mr. Saint--I don't like him. I feel,
+someway, that he will do as you say, sneak in behind your back, and rob
+you of what you have worked so hard for. Could you stand that?"
+
+"'Twould be a rare twister, Fancy. But the men are wanted."
+
+He spoke with no fire, no enthusiasm. The men were wanted. That,
+apparently, had become an obsession. Dared she temporise any further?
+Was this the opportunity, never to be presented again, of which Mr.
+Hamlin had spoken?
+
+"If you feel like that, Alfie, you must go. I--I couldn't lift a finger
+to hold you back. I am proud," her voice faltered, "to belong to such a
+man."
+
+The victory was won.
+
+Reaction followed quickly. They clung to each other. Fancy cried,
+knowing that tears would lighten her heart. Alfred kissed them away. He
+set himself, resolutely, the task of cheering her up. The war might be
+over before he was ready to serve in France. William Saint had his own
+business. One that exacted constant attention. No doubt a trusty fellow
+could be found to drive the 'bus.
+
+At tea, no trace of the storm could be discerned on their smiling faces.
+
+But Mrs. Yellam knew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
+
+
+Alfred Yellam enlisted. But only seven out of the eight other young men
+enlisted with him. To the amazement of Nether-Applewhite, Adam Mucklow,
+a married man, took the place of the shirker. And this was not under
+pressure from Uncle, although he tried (and failed) to "touch" old
+Captain Davenant for another half-sovereign. Possibly the sight of the
+effulgent George--a younger brother not held in the highest esteem by
+Adam--had its effect; possibly, also, Adam had been swept off his large
+feet by Lionel Pomfret; possibly, again, Hamlin's good seed may have
+sprouted in somewhat thin soil. Motives must not be analysed too
+closely.
+
+Susan Yellam and Jane Mucklow said nothing. Susan may have realised that
+protest would be wasted; Jane, probably, was just as shrewd. Each woman
+cherished a bitter grievance, hiding it grimly from inquisitive eyes.
+Each read the heart of the other, and still remained silent. Each,
+however, was proud to be the mother of a valiant son. Mrs. Yellam never
+knew that a tremendous decision had been left to Fancy. She took for
+granted that Fancy felt as she did, and the pale, anxious face of the
+girl confirmed this conviction. Alfred, you may be sure, made Fancy
+promise to keep silence concerning what passed in the fox-covert. To her
+dying day let the mother believe that the son had acted "on his own,"
+without consulting another. Fancy sighed and consented. What did it
+matter? What did anything matter now that Alfred was going? During these
+last few days, the spiritual part of her seemed dead. Triumph appeared
+to have killed it! But her will prevailed over the weakness of the
+flesh. Alfred must see no more tears. Her smile was the most pathetic
+memory which he took with him from Nether-Applewhite.
+
+Before "joining-up," he gave two presents to the women he loved. To his
+mother he brought a wire-haired fox-terrier, pure white save for one
+round black spot between the ears and an oval black spot upon the loins.
+The dog was nine months old and clean thoroughbred, the son of a famous
+prize-winner. Alfred paid five pounds for him. Mrs. Yellam was
+profoundly moved; and the dog seemed to acclaim her as mistress at
+sight, jumping into her ample lap and licking her hand.
+
+"What shall we call him, Mother?" asked Alfred.
+
+Mrs. Yellam studied the dog's lineaments. His eyes sparkled as shrewdly
+as her own.
+
+"He looks wonnerful wise," she said. "Wise as Solomon, he be."
+
+"Then we'll call him--Solomon."
+
+And it was so. Solomon--soon abbreviated into "Sol"--wagged his short
+tail approvingly.
+
+To Fancy Alfred presented a bicycle, and with it these words:
+
+"Vicarage is nigh three-quarters of a mile from Mother's cottage. I want
+you to see Mother whenever 'tis possible. I know her. She'll keep
+herself to herself, thinking her own thoughts, and they'll be hard
+thoughts, Fancy. You'll help to soften 'em, dear, won't you?"
+
+"Indeed I will."
+
+"Parson'll let you off, afternoons, for an hour, maybe; and the bike'll
+make all the difference. I see you nipping down in no time."
+
+"I shall love that, if Mr. Hamlin can spare me."
+
+Alfred laughed gaily.
+
+"I've spoken a word to him. And a kinder gentleman, in spite of his
+coldish face, I never met. He shook hands with me, and told me you
+should have a whiff of fresh air."
+
+And thus it was cosily arranged.
+
+To find a responsible, capable fellow to take his place as village
+carrier, and to drive the precious 'bus, was not so easy of achievement.
+But this, too, was managed through Mr. Hamlin. Alfred said uneasily:
+
+"I ask you, sir, to keep an eye on William Saint."
+
+"William Saint?"
+
+"He's crafty as any fox, sir, and a rare pusher. Mother fears that he
+may push himself into my good business."
+
+Hamlin promised to bear this possibility in mind. Then Alfred, with
+groanings and travailings, delivered himself of the last burden on his
+mind:
+
+"I'm sore troubled about Mother."
+
+Hamlin held his tongue.
+
+"She's taking this hard, but not a word does she say, not one. She
+thinks, I know, that God Almighty has forsaken her, pore soul. Such a
+mort o' trouble as she's had, too. My going seems the last straw.
+'Twouldn't be so bad, if all the young men had gone first."
+
+"I can imagine what she feels, Alfred. This is a time of sore trial to
+all of us, and, perhaps, the strongest suffer most. I will do what I can
+to comfort her, but I can do so little. In all my life I have never felt
+before how cheap mere words are. Now, go your way with a glad heart. Put
+these anxieties from you, hopefully, and so you will do your duty the
+better. God bless you!"
+
+Alfred duly departed.
+
+Before Lionel returned to France, the Squire's ardent desire was
+granted. He became the happy grandfather of a stout boy, with his sire's
+blue eyes and clear skin--a ten-pounder!
+
+To celebrate this glorious event, the Squire built a shrine and
+dedicated it to the men of Nether-Applewhite who had answered the call
+to arms. It took the form of a fountain, with a granite trough for
+watering horses. Inside the fountain might be found a great slab of
+white marble with the names of the young fellows, in order, inscribed
+upon it in dull gold lettering, a very notable monument, as Uncle
+observed. It stood below the Church, opposite to the _Pomfret Arms_, in
+an open space where roads branched. Folk, from far and near, came to
+look at it.
+
+From the recruiting point of view, the fountain, as was generally
+admitted, furnished inspiration together with pure water to thirsty
+souls.
+
+When Lionel went back to France, a drab pall of apathy settled again
+upon the village. Mrs. Yellam spent every morning at Pomfret Court,
+returning to her cottage after the mid-day meal, which she helped to
+serve. Fancy would dash down to see her after five o'clock tea. Within
+six weeks Alfred appeared in khaki, with forty-eight hours' leave. He
+had joined an infantry regiment, somewhat to his regret, for he had a
+leg for a kilt, and remembered the resplendent appearance of "No Account
+Harry."
+
+"The Highlanders were in my mind, Mother. I'd a notion to enlist with
+them, but 'twas not to be."
+
+Susan Yellam said reflectively:
+
+"I prefer the Grannydeer Guards, to they Seafarin' Highlanders, Alfie."
+
+"Ah-h-h! I might have gone for a horse-soldier, but when they told me
+'twould be my pleasure and duty to keep my horse cleaner than myself, I
+thought twice about it. 'Tis a hard life, dear, but I feel wonderful
+strong, with a tremendous stomach for my victuals."
+
+His appearance delighted Fancy.
+
+They were photographed together, arm in crook, travelling to Salisbury
+as passengers in Alfred's 'bus, which provoked many jests. But when
+Alfred went back to duty the corners in two hearts seemed more empty
+than before.
+
+Meanwhile, Tommies had taken the place of Belgians at Pomfret Court,
+much to the satisfaction of the maids in the village. They were an
+amazing set of fellows, so the Squire decided, guests after his own
+heart, always ready to crack a joke, grousing about trifles, simply
+splendid when they discoursed about the war. Some of them, unlike the
+Belgians, were impatient to return to the front. They talked pleasantly
+of the enemy whom they spoke of generically as "Fritz." The
+kindest-hearted of the first lot, a little Cockney, bubbling over with
+fun and high spirits, ever ready to help the "Sisters" in any job that
+came to the one hand that had not been left in France, gloried in the
+distinction of having been in a bayonet charge. The Squire, much
+interested, asked for details, gleefully forthcoming.
+
+"Yer see red, sir. I got after a fat 'Un. Lord lumme! 'E run a fair
+treat, 'e did. But I stuck him to rights. I lost my 'ead though.
+Couldn't see nothink nor nobody except 'im. In my silly 'aste I missed
+some fine opportoonities."
+
+"Opportunities?"
+
+"Wounded 'Uns, sir, lyin' there to me 'and. I might 'ave 'ad
+'arf-a-dozen notches on my old rifle, instead of one!"
+
+"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Sir Geoffrey.
+
+"Yer see, sir, we knows what they done to women and children."
+
+By this time. George Mucklow and the first to join were at the front,
+and every Sunday, during Morning Service, Mr. Hamlin would stand up,
+before the Litany, and read out the names on the Roll of Honour. The
+congregation, after Service, remained quietly in the church till the
+National Anthem had been sung.
+
+Mrs. Yellam sat alone in her pew, rigidly upright.
+
+At home, alone in the evening, she talked to her dog. Solomon would sit
+in front of her, staring up into her massive face, with one ear
+half-cocked, very alert, very sympathetic.
+
+"You be a wondersome dog."
+
+Solomon's tail flickered.
+
+"You knows more'n they donkeys as walks on two legs."
+
+Solomon winked.
+
+"You knows what a hard old flint I be, same as I digs up in garden."
+
+Solomon laid a protesting paw upon her knee.
+
+"You knows that I be tried beyond my powers, that I be mazed and dazed
+beyond what tongue can tell."
+
+Solomon leaped into her lap, and attempted to lick her face.
+
+"No, no, Solly; my kissing days be over."
+
+Solomon refused to believe this.
+
+"You knows, too, that my Alferd be going to the wars, and he won't come
+back. 'Twill kill that pore white-faced lil' maid. But 'twon't kill me,
+I be too tough, Sol. I be getting tougher. And I get no taste out o'
+life neither. I be so wicked that, times, I could lift my hand to kill
+they who stay behind, guzzling ale, grinning because they think
+theirselves so clever! I fair wonders that you can love so wicked an old
+'ooman as I be."
+
+Solomon, as a last reassuring protest, would curl up and fall asleep.
+Mrs. Yellam would sit on, staring into the fire, trying to adjust the
+workings of the Divine Mind with her own perplexed intelligence. Often
+kindly sleep would come to the rescue, and she would wake with a start
+to find the fire burnt out and the kitchen cold. But Solomon lay snug
+and warm against her.
+
+Many persons, besides Mrs. Yellam, were mazed and dazed during these
+Spring days. At Neuve Chapelle, our cavalry had their feet in stirrup
+ready to ride down the enemy, when a thick mist rolled up and balked
+them of their prey. Jupiter Pluvius seemed to be fighting against us.
+The appalling earthquake in Italy was joyously affirmed by Germans to be
+God's judgment upon an ally who had deserted them. Strikes in the
+industrial parts, Irish troubles going from bad to worse, seemed to
+indicate the chastening hand of Omnipotence.
+
+But we had accomplished a mighty miracle.
+
+Five hundred thousand men were in France, and not a life lost during the
+perilous operations connected with transport.
+
+And then came the crushing disaster of the _Lusitania_. A wave of horror
+and rage swept over the country. Till now, Lissauer's "Hymn of Hate" had
+aroused ridicule, not resentment, amongst English-speaking peoples. The
+Belgian atrocities, known in all their horror to very few, had been
+accepted as the handiwork of brutes driven mad by drink and blood-lust,
+not as the systematic, inspired doctrine of Frightfulness. But when all
+Germany rose up to justify the slaughter of helpless women and children,
+when streets were beflagged, medals struck, and the schools held
+holiday, the nation began, at last, to grasp the truth. Might meant to
+stick at nothing.
+
+Recruiting, in the rural districts, received a sharp stimulus.
+
+Fancy, lying awake at night, shed many tears, but none before Mrs.
+Yellam. The pair, so strangely different, got on well together, because,
+so Susan said, the girl was not a chatter-box. Often they would meet and
+part without exchanging more than a dozen words. Fancy would help with
+the work, the never-ending cleaning and sweeping, or take some sewing
+and sit by the kitchen fire in silence. These quiet ways endeared her
+more and more to Alfred's mother, and occasionally, very seldom, Fancy
+would be vouchsafed a glimpse of an indurated heart. She had noticed
+that Mrs. Yellam avoided any direct reference to the Deity, Whose name,
+before the war, had been so often on her lips, the personal God, Whose
+guiding finger, even in trivial, domestic affairs, could be so plainly
+seen. One day, on the eve of Alfred's departure for France, Fancy said
+nervously:
+
+"God will be with Alfred."
+
+Mrs. Yellam said quickly:
+
+"He be wi' the Kayser, too, seemin'ly."
+
+Instantly she closed her lips, as if fearful that more might leak from
+them. Fancy remained discreetly silent. She comforted herself with this
+reflection: faith in works sustained this unhappy old woman. She
+laboured abundantly for others at Pomfret Court, and tended her garden
+diligently so that she might have fruit and flowers and vegetables to
+bestow upon poorer neighbours. In church, her responses were clear and
+regular, her deportment irreproachable, but she never discussed the
+sermon, once a favourite mental exercise, and Fancy came to the
+conclusion that she no longer listened to it, too much obsessed by her
+own perplexities.
+
+About this time Nether-Applewhite was electrified out of its apathy by
+an extraordinary event, something so unexpected that Hamlin himself, who
+had foreshadowed such a remote possibility in his sermon on Patriotism,
+began to wonder if he had been inspired.
+
+George Mucklow won the Victoria Cross!
+
+This heavy, stolid young man, who shut both eyes when his shins were
+imperilled by a cricket-ball, who was "afeard wi' maids," who had been
+driven to the colours before the toe of a thick boot, performed one of
+those deeds that thrill an Empire. Fortunately for him, the tremendous
+opportunity of which Hamlin had spoken came at a moment when Authority
+was looking on, and able to record what took place. George confessed
+afterwards that at the time he didn't know what he did, or how he did
+it. Out of some subconscious zone surged the irresistible impulse
+blindly obeyed. A shell fell in the trenches at a moment when the
+officer on duty was making his rounds. Not an "Archie" or a "Black
+Maria" but something smaller than a football. Dozens of men were close
+to it. George darted past the officer and hurled himself upon it.
+
+_It didn't explode!_
+
+Within a week, George's photograph was given pride of place in
+half-a-dozen newspapers. And then the supreme decoration was conferred.
+He returned home on leave; the King pinned to his tunic the bronze
+cross; Jane Mucklow and Uncle witnessed the ceremony; George came back
+to Nether-Applewhite with his parents, and was the hero of another
+function when Sir Geoffrey Pomfret presented him with a gold watch and
+chain, a tribute from the Squire of the parish, and a well-lined purse,
+the gift of the parishioners.
+
+The effect on Uncle may be imagined. For ever after he associated
+himself with George as owning an undivided half interest in the cross,
+and in describing the glorious deed he assumed the royal plural, and
+with it some of the attributes of a monarch.
+
+"Us was standing at attention," he would say, "as I be standing now,
+when the dam thing falls slam-bang in front of we. Neighbours, 'twas a
+moment as won't bear thinking on. Many souls all unfit for Kingdom Come.
+What does we do? We falls atop o' that there cannon-ball--'twas big
+enough to blow a thousand fellers to glory--and hugs it to our buzzums.
+'Tain't a thing to brag about, but us was in the noospapers, and--and,
+well, you knows the end on't--Buckingham Pallis! And, believe me or not,
+neighbours, but this be sober truth. Me and King Garge was hobnobbing
+together for the space of one mortial minute, just so friendly and kind
+as true brothers. I nodded to 'un, as I nods to you, and, by Jo! he nods
+back to me."
+
+Jane Mucklow had believed that George would perish in his first action.
+He had come triumphantly through half-a-dozen. And, to-day, he wore the
+proudest decoration that England's King can bestow. At a bound, she
+became an impassioned optimist. She discerned clearly the hand of
+Providence. King George was beheld as the Lord's Anointed. Queen Mary
+towered higher than he as the sacrosanct Mother. Mrs. Mucklow had her
+tale to tell, and told it with Uncle's unction and satisfaction.
+
+"Queen Mary looked at my Garge as if 'twas her own dear son. Yes, she
+did. And then she smiles sweetly at me. I tell 'ee this--Queeny Mary was
+just so proud o' my Garge as I be. A good, kind 'ooman! I allows that,
+now and again, I ha' raised my blasphemious voice against they crowned
+heads, believing in my every-day way that they wore golden crowns when
+we pore folks was a-wearing made-over bonnets. Such wicked thoughts be
+clean gone from me. I be fair aching to sing 'God save the Queen' next
+Sunday morning."
+
+A neighbour remarked timidly:
+
+"Lard bless 'ee, Jane Mucklow, we sings 'God save the King.'"
+
+Jane answered solemnly:
+
+"You sings what you please. I began my life singing 'God save the
+Queen.' And I means to sing it again next Sunday."
+
+But the glory that encompassed her nephew's thick head as with a halo
+flickered like a farthing dip in the mind of Susan Yellam. Her poor
+heart was lacerated by envy and jealousy. If George were indeed chosen
+by Providence to wear the Victoria Cross, what decoration would He award
+to her Alfred? The press had laid emphasis upon George being amongst the
+first to volunteer. If Queeny Mary knew the whole truth, would she have
+smiled sweetly at George's mother? Not she!
+
+She laid the matter before Solomon that same night, after the memorable
+function which took place at the Shrine.
+
+"Solly, my soul be in sore trouble."
+
+Solomon considered this attentively.
+
+"Yes, my dog, I be setting in the seat o' the scornful. I be weary o' my
+groanings. I ha' conceived sorrow and brought forth ungodliness."
+
+Solomon whined.
+
+"Why be this change come upon me, Solly? 'Tis written: Upon the ungodly
+He shall rain fire and brimstone, storm and tempest. But, to-day,
+seemingly, that be the lot o' the godly and the fatherless. To the
+ungodly be given Victoria Crosses."
+
+Solomon sat up and begged his mistress to be silent.
+
+She concluded sorrowfully:
+
+"I be cast down, and they that trouble me will rejoice at it."
+
+Solomon leapt into her lap, and thrust his nice cold nose against her
+cheek.
+
+Hamlin visited her from time to time, but as friend, not priest. Wisely,
+he bided his time to speak, wondering when the right moment would come.
+She received him respectfully, answered his questions, enquired after
+Mr. Edward, who had just received his Sam Brown belt, and then relapsed
+into exasperating silence.
+
+Meanwhile, Mr. William Saint had not neglected his opportunities. The
+man chosen by Hamlin and Alfred to "carry on" during Alfred's absence
+was sober and honest, but a poor talker. Saint bought a motor-'bus in
+May, which he used at first to take passengers to and from the railway
+station, some four miles distant. At the same time, he made arrangements
+to entertain summer guests, renting a small house with a garden
+overlooking the Avon, which served as an annexe for middle class
+trippers, elderly spinsters who drew in water-colours, officers' wives
+with children, and professional men seeking a little cheap fishing.
+Saint drove the 'bus himself, engaging a good-looking young woman to
+take his place in the bar. Now and again he made expeditions to
+Salisbury, filling his 'bus with strangers who wished to see the
+Cathedral. Before June was out, he started a bi-weekly trip. In July he
+began carrying parcels.
+
+Hamlin, accordingly, said a word to the Squire. But what could be done?
+The Squire and he stuck faithfully to the regular carrier. Others
+consulted their own convenience. Mrs. Yellam told Fancy that Alfred's
+business was steadily diminishing in volume.
+
+"Have you told Alfred?" asked Fancy.
+
+"No. And don't 'ee tell him, neither."
+
+"Not me. Anyways, so long as dear Alfred be safe and well, I shan't
+worry about money matters."
+
+Mrs. Yellam said tartly:
+
+"Folks wi' no money to lose can allers sleep sound at nights." Then,
+realising that she had slapped an innocent cheek, she added in a
+pleasanter voice: "If Alferd keep safe and well, he'll downscramble this
+raskil so soon as he be homealong."
+
+Fancy kissed her.
+
+"He will be homealong soon," she whispered.
+
+"How do 'ee know? You ain't got a letter saying so?"
+
+"N-n-no."
+
+Mrs. Yellam's voice became testy again.
+
+"Then how do 'ee know?"
+
+Fancy hesitated, blushing. But Mrs. Yellam pressed her point. Finally,
+the girl made confession. When Alfred went to France, she had consulted
+the cards.
+
+Mrs. Yellam exploded. What ridiculous notions young maids got, to be
+sure! Cards, indeed! Very scornfully, she informed Fancy of the
+existence of a so-called wise woman, half-gypsy, who lived in a
+tumble-down cottage at Ocknell.
+
+"You go and see that old grammer. 'Twill cost 'ee sixpence. For a
+shillin' she'll tell 'ee a fine fortin, marry 'ee to a young lord, and
+make 'ee the mother o' nine children. I ha' no patience wi' such
+tricks."
+
+Fancy said humbly:
+
+"Alfred thinks it foolishness, just as you do, but ..."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"The lady in Salisbury, as taught me, did say that I should marry a
+soldier. Alfred laughed at that, till--till he became one."
+
+"You bain't married to a soldier yet."
+
+"No. That's true."
+
+Fancy sighed. Mrs. Yellam went on with some knitting. Suddenly, she said
+sharply:
+
+"What did they cards say?"
+
+Fancy smiled faintly.
+
+"They said that Alfred would come back--soon."
+
+Mrs. Yellam knitted on. After a long pause, she pronounced a verdict.
+
+"I bain't one to talk about what I don't understand. If so be as Alfred
+comes back soon, and if he marries 'ee, I may own up that cards do tell
+truth sometimes."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE EMPTY PEW
+
+
+After her Alfred went to the front, Mrs. Yellam's interest in the
+Tommies who had been "over the top" became more acute. She listened to
+everything said, regardless of a timely caution from Lionel Pomfret,
+who, before he rejoined his battalion, warned her that Mr. Atkins, with
+all his glorious qualities, was not too scrupulous a respecter of the
+truth. When the wounded men fell to talking amongst themselves, or
+before sympathetic females, the hypercritical might have noted a valiant
+determination on the part of each speaker to go "one better" than his
+predecessor. And the essential fact that these boys, most of them under
+twenty-five years of age, laughed at and chaffed each other when
+relating horrors merely piled Pelion upon Ossa in the mind of Mrs.
+Yellam. It seemed to her--and to how many more mothers?--that none could
+escape death or mutilation. One man was dumb from shell-shock. A "Black
+Maria" had buried him and ten others. He alone survived, unable to tell
+in speech what he had undergone. Mrs. Yellam paid this man particular
+attention, because her imagination was lively enough to realise what
+loss of speech would mean to herself. She told Jane Mucklow, with
+portentous shakings of the head, that the poor lad had lost his tongue
+for evermore. What else could be expected? Jane, now in happier mood,
+remarked sententiously that miracles still happened. Mrs. Yellam smiled
+grimly, wondering whether Jane was thinking of what George had done and
+accounted that achievement a miracle. And Jane could afford to take a
+rosy view of life, inasmuch as Adam was still in England, and George,
+with a view to stimulating recruiting, had been given a snug billet at
+the depot of his regiment. All the credit due to George had, by this
+time, been assumed by Uncle. He not only took part, as has been said, in
+the heart-thrilling exploit, but assured everybody that the valour of
+his son had been begotten in him by a sire known far and wide to be
+without fear, the Bayard of the countryside! Jane accepted this
+hypothesis with creditable derision. She would say in reply to strangers
+avid for details: "Do 'ee talk to Garge's father. _He was there!_ Garge
+be his father's son from stem to starn. My boy'd ha' behaved hisself
+very different. He'd ha' crawled down a rabbit-hole, he would, so be as
+one were handy."
+
+Some strangers, pleased with this whimsical exposition, pressed money
+into Jane's hand, which she accepted with a humble and grateful heart,
+adding even more slily: "Thank 'ee very kindly. Money be scarce wi' us,
+since my dear husband's son won the Victoria Cross, because the father
+o' such a notable hero has to drink his brave boy's health so many times
+a day."
+
+One memorable night, when most of the Tommies were asleep in the Saloon,
+the dumb man burst into excited speech, and talked for about two hours,
+to the delight of seventeen comrades. When Mrs. Yellam heard the
+wonderful news next morning, she was immensely comforted. That afternoon
+Fancy noticed a change in her, and was emboldened to strike iron when it
+happened to be hot.
+
+"Miracles do happen," she affirmed, with an odd expression upon her pale
+little face.
+
+Mrs. Yellam passed no remark on this. In her opinion, formulated long
+before the war, miracles had been wrought long ago in the misty,
+prehistoric times of the apostles, and not since. Fancy continued
+nervously:
+
+"A miracle happened to me."
+
+"What do you say, child? A miracle happened to--_you_?"
+
+Fancy nodded. As a little girl, during her school-days, she had told her
+tale many times with the abominable conviction that it failed to
+convince, although it might excite astonishment and sympathy. When she
+grew older and more reserved she ceased to tell it, wincing from
+incredulity. She hated to tell it to this austere old woman, whose
+tongue could be so sharp, but impulse conquered apprehension.
+
+"I was four years old at the time. And I was playing in the street just
+opposite to our house with some other children. A great dog came rushing
+down on us, snapping right and left. Folks said afterwards he was mad,
+but I don't know. Someway he was killed, so Father told me, before that
+was made certain; killed and buried."
+
+"A mad dog! My!"
+
+"The other children ran away. I--I didn't."
+
+"Why ever not?"
+
+"I couldn't. I stood still, all of a dreadful tremble. And he came bang
+at me."
+
+"What a fearsome tale! You pore lil' maid!"
+
+Up to this point of the narrative, Fancy had generally received just
+such sympathy, particularly when telling the story to mothers. She
+paused; her cheeks flushed; but her large eyes rested tranquilly upon
+the eyes of Susan Yellam.
+
+"Well, dear, go on!"
+
+"When the dog was quite close, I saw Mother."
+
+Mrs. Yellam gasped.
+
+"You saw your mother, who was dead!"
+
+"I never think of Mother as dead. Yes, I saw Mother standing between me
+and the dog. She never looked at me; she looked at the dog. And the dog
+saw her."
+
+"I never heard such a tale in all my life."
+
+"The dog saw her. He stopped of a sudden, turned, and went
+back--howling. And I howled, too. Mother turned as the dog turned, and
+give me one beautiful look. Then she went."
+
+Mrs. Yellam grasped the arms of her chair, still staring into Fancy's
+artless face. But no outburst of incredulity escaped from her as Fancy
+had feared it would. Her logical mind grappled with the facts as
+presented. She said, after a long pause:
+
+"You thought you saw her."
+
+"No. I did see her--plain as plain."
+
+"But, Fancy dear, seeing as she died afore you was born, how did 'ee
+know 'twas she?"
+
+"I'd seen Mother ever so often before."
+
+"When and how?"
+
+After some hesitation, Fancy narrated, with many details, her psychic
+experiences not only with her mother but with the four Evangelists. The
+girl's mordant anxiety that the astounding tale should be believed bit
+deep into the elder woman's heart. To Fancy's delight no incredulity was
+expressed. And Mrs. Yellam's face remained calm and kind. Solomon
+listened, also, with singular alertness and an eager intelligence which,
+to Fancy, indicated full belief. Indeed, Solomon seemed to be saying to
+himself: "Yes, yes, we know about that. We see things every day that
+would astonish all of you, if we were allowed to talk about them." And,
+in the middle of the story, the dog, that never showed any affection for
+others in the presence of his mistress, leapt suddenly into Fancy's lap
+and remained there. Long afterwards, Mrs. Yellam admitted that this mark
+of confidence upon Sol's part had impressed her. Inwardly she explained
+things quite to her satisfaction. She beheld Fancy as a four-year-old, a
+tiny mite, all eyes, physically weak, the victim of a perfervid
+imagination. Her own little girl, Lizzie, physically robust, would
+invent somewhat similar stories about tramps and sweeps quite as
+apocryphal as these tales of communings with Matthew and Mark. She
+remembered smacking Lizzie, and telling her that she was a little liar.
+No doubt, Fancy's father, rather a weakling, has encouraged the mite.
+Since Alfred's engagement, Mrs. Yellam had met Mr. Broomfield, and
+summed him up trenchantly as half a man.
+
+However, she kept such thoughts to herself, saying quietly:
+
+"You be a strange girl, Fancy, but you speaks what you believes to be
+sober truth, and I love 'ee."
+
+Fancy had to be satisfied with this.
+
+The first year of the war came to an end.
+
+So far, Nether-Applewhite had been fortunate. None of the young men had
+been killed; none had been seriously wounded. And it was generally held
+that "Fritz" couldn't stick another winter. Alfred became a sergeant.
+Mrs. Yellam appeared in her pew, next Sunday, wearing a new bonnet. But,
+coming out of church, she met William Saint, and cut him dead. She now
+thought of him, habitually, as a "Prooshian," out for world-dominion.
+When her Alfred returned from the wars, he would smash William Saint.
+The triumph of such a "sneak" must be short-lived. Like the Kayser, he
+had sold himself, body and soul, to Satan. Satan would claim his own in
+God A'mighty's good time. Renewed belief in a Personal Deity had crept
+back into a heart less indurated. But He remained there, so to speak, on
+sufferance. At any moment, He might be driven out, as before.
+Omnipotence, so Mrs. Yellam argued during many vigils, could not be
+reasonably regarded as such if Satan triumphed unduly. It is to be
+feared that a daily motor-'bus service to Salisbury and back under the
+auspices of William Saint would have been regarded as a Satanic triumph.
+But such a service, as yet, had not been inaugurated.
+
+Alfred wrote home once a week, alternately to Fancy and his mother. The
+life agreed with him. Obviously he accepted rough and smooth
+philosophically, regarding himself as a part of a vast machine that
+would "rampage" on with or without him. Although he was careful to keep
+from his mother and Fancy the horrors which they heard from the wounded
+soldiers, now and again some careless phrase would reveal,
+illuminatingly, everything that the good fellow wished to suppress.
+
+"You enjoy your food as never was," he wrote, "when you know that any
+square meal may be the last. A chum of mine got it yesterday. And he was
+smoking a Woodbine I gave him. The man next him, as told me all about
+it, finished the Woodbine. I couldn't help laughing."
+
+"Sometimes," said Mrs. Yellam, deliberately, "I thinks they be all mad."
+She turned almost fiercely upon Fancy. "Why did he laugh, my boy as
+hated to kill a fly?"
+
+Fancy hazarded a conjecture.
+
+"Men are not so very, very different from us women. I often laugh to
+save myself crying."
+
+Mrs. Yellam admitted that there might be something in this.
+
+The Squire was busy with his bailiff, fattening bullocks, and, generally
+speaking, trying to increase his flocks and herds. In this task, he
+found an enthusiastic partner in Fishpingle, who possessed two obsessing
+interests: love of the land and love of the Pomfrets. Nobody, except the
+Squire and Lady Pomfret knew that this quiet, handsome old man, so
+distinguished in appearance, and so choice in his use of words, might
+have been lord of the manor, had he marched into life along the broad
+highway which leads from the altar. Fate ordained otherwise. Fishpingle
+had been constrained to stroll placidly along a by-path. He hoped that
+he would so walk till the end.
+
+His point of view was characteristic. Of the more complex designs of
+Providence, which such men as Hamlin were seeking to elucidate,
+Fishpingle took no cognisance. He admitted gravely that they lay beyond
+his vision. But he was quite certain that the land, the backbone of
+England, must and would receive the attention which, before the war, had
+been so unwisely withheld. He had always wanted to see his country
+independent of necessary supplies--wheat, cattle, sheep and
+hogs--imported from other countries. Upon that peg he had hung his
+philosophy. And now, towards the close of his days, he believed that
+what he had prayed for might come to pass. To that end he was prepared
+to consecrate such energies as were left to him. Incidentally, his
+enthusiasm served to wean Sir Geoffrey's mind from acrimonious criticism
+of politicians. To provide in the present means that might fill the
+inexorable demand of the future absorbed the thoughts of Squire and
+Bailiff.
+
+Towards the middle of September, two Nether-Applewhite men were killed
+in action. A week later, Lionel Pomfret was reported "severely wounded."
+Sir Geoffrey crossed over to France. Lady Pomfret remained at the Court
+in command of the hospital. She moved amongst the men with the same
+gracious smile upon her lips; courage and faith--those great twin
+brethren--sustained her; but the news was very bad, so serious that Mrs.
+Yellam hardened once more her heart. Lionel had been shot through the
+back, and lay, half-paralysed and in constant pain, in a receiving
+hospital. Upon the Sunday after these details reached Nether-Applewhite,
+Susan Yellam sat huddled up in her pew, and almost mumbled the
+responses. Alone with Fancy, her sorrow broke into words:
+
+"I be thinking o' keeping away from church next Sunday."
+
+"Mother--!"
+
+The dear word escaped from Fancy's lips unconsciously. She had never
+used it before, except in her thoughts.
+
+"What be you callin' me?"
+
+Fancy knelt beside her, stroking her rough hand.
+
+"I called you 'Mother.' Do you mind?"
+
+"No, no; but I bain't worthy to be your mother. If Master Lionel be
+taken, Alferd'll go, too. I can't bring myself to look at my lady. I
+can't look Pa'son square i' the face, neither. I reads the Bible, Fancy,
+and the holy words do seem to mock me. I ain't been near those two pore
+souls as ha' lost their boys. For why? I ain't got no comfort for 'em."
+
+Fancy said desperately:
+
+"If you keep away from church, others will pass remarks."
+
+"As if I keered about that!"
+
+"Wouldn't you care if I stayed away, just because you did?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam considered this. Her face relaxed.
+
+"Maybe. Anyways, I'll go next Sunday; But, child, it be sinful to sit in
+God's House wi' such a soul as mine."
+
+Fancy said in a low voice:
+
+"Your _soul_ is right. You mind what Mr. Hamlin said about that? George
+Mucklow won his Cross because our souls are always right."
+
+Mrs. Yellam shook her head. Then an idea came to her. A faint smile
+flickered about her lips.
+
+"Souls may take a notion to leave us for a spell. My soul seems to have
+flown out o' winder, as it did when Lizzie died."
+
+"But it came back."
+
+"Yes; that be true; it came back. Forgi' me, child, for shovin' my
+wickedness on your lil' shoulders."
+
+"Dear Mother, you must talk to somebody."
+
+"When I be alone, evenings, I talks to Solly."
+
+"Well, I never!"
+
+"And he understands me, yas, he do. He be very human, and a gert
+sinner."
+
+Fancy laughed; and the pretty trickle of sound may have melted a little
+ice. Susan Yellam laughed with her.
+
+"Solly--a sinner?"
+
+"Ay. He be a black murderer. He killed a cat day afore yesterday, and
+come back to me, all over scratches, and wi' a look as if--as if he'd
+been churched."
+
+"What a naughty hypocrite! I wish he hadn't killed the poor cat."
+
+"'Twas a vagabond cat, no better than she should be. I scolded Solly,
+and told 'un to kill William Saint's tabby, if so be as he couldn't help
+breaking the Sixth Commandment. I be no better than Solly."
+
+Fancy looked round.
+
+"Where is the naughty dog?"
+
+"Ah-h-h! He be courtin' some four-legged hussy. I knows 'un. Last night
+he come in after bed-time, so pleased as Punch. There be Original Sin in
+animals, as ther be in us. And feeling as I does, 'tis easy to forgive
+Solly his trespasses. Now you knows nearly everything."
+
+As the days succeeded each other, slightly better news came from France
+about Lionel Pomfret. At the end of the month the Squire brought him
+home. He lay upon his back; pain had become intermittent instead of
+constant. A great specialist said that he might, in time, recover the
+use of his lower limbs. Not a complaint leaked from his lips. Susan
+Yellam accepted this partial recovery from what had been deemed a lethal
+wound as a sign vouchsafed to her. Jealousy, however, was kindled by the
+professional nurse, who kept from her patient an old friend lavish with
+bull's-eyes in happier days and doubly anxious on that account to
+minister faithfully to him in the unhappy present.
+
+London was visited by Zeppelins. Nether-Applewhite would have accepted
+this fresh proof of Hun "frightfulness" with more Christian resignation,
+if one of the villagers had not happened to be present during the
+October raid which caused such destruction in the Strand. Uncle heard
+the tale at first hand, and repeated it everywhere. Martin Mowland, the
+bricklayer, had travelled to London to see his son, who was lying,
+desperately wounded, in the Charing Cross Hospital. According to Martin
+the Zeppelin had hovered just above his head, about tree-high. Then
+bombs had fallen with terrifying explosions. Uncle supplied
+supplementary detail to his own audience at the _Sir John Barleycorn_.
+
+"I says to Martin: 'What did 'ee do, old friend?' And he says to me:
+'Uncle,' he says, 'I thought my hour was come, but I legs it away so
+fast as I can to my lodgings....'"
+
+At this point Uncle, being an accomplished _raconteur_, would pause.
+Then he would add impressively:
+
+"Neighbours, I don't blame 'un, although speaking for myself, I knows
+that I should ha' stood still, onless, maybe, I'd seen some nice lil'
+ale-house handy. Well, Martin, he legs it homealong so fast as if a
+hornet's nest were tied to his starn-sheets, and presently he pulls up
+like to catch his breath. And then he takes a squint upwards. Dang me,
+'tis hard to believe some true stories. But Martin Mowland do take his
+oath to this. He'd run the most of a mile, giving tongue, too, I'll
+warrant. And when he looks up, as I be a Christian man, that there Zep
+had follered he, and was slam bang over his head."
+
+"Lard preserve us! Whatever did 'un do?"
+
+Uncle solemnly put the finishing touch to the narrative.
+
+"What did Martin do? He stands stone-still, and puts up his old
+umbrella."
+
+Many persons in the village believe to this day that Martin Mowland
+saved his life by putting up his ancient umbrella. Unquestionably
+Providence had stretched forth a Hand to preserve a worthy man who, as
+bricklayer, could ill be spared.
+
+During November, it will be remembered, Conscription was admitted to be
+inevitable, and shirkers were adjured to join up before they were
+"fetched." Many did so. Near Salisbury was established a vast camp of
+Canadians, jolly fellows who swung, route-marching, through
+Nether-Applewhite, winking gaily at the girls, and setting an inspiring
+example to the young men still clinging to the soil.
+
+Susan Yellam, spectacles upon nose, read all articles in her paper which
+dealt drastically with recalcitrants.
+
+Would they take William Saint?
+
+This question obsessed her. William was single and of military age. But
+his usefulness in the village could not be gainsaid, even by Captain
+Davenant. Of late, William had begun to cough, particularly in his
+sanded bar-parlour, or when he happened to be talking to Squire or
+Parson. His yellow gills confirmed the general opinion that he enjoyed
+poor health. Susan Yellam maintained that Willum was malingering, and
+deserved such obloquy as descended upon the empty head of Ezekiel
+Busketts, the brother of the sometime "odd man" at Pomfret Court.
+Ezekiel, presenting himself for examination before a medical board, had
+provided himself with an ancient truss, once the property of a deceased
+father. Unfortunately, he adjusted the truss so improperly that
+detection and ridicule fell upon him. Uncle, being distantly of kin to
+Ezekiel, covered his retreat with no harsher comment than this:
+
+"'Twas a very sad mishap."
+
+Susan, to return to William Saint, asked for a "sign," which, if
+unfavourable, might be taken to indicate how deeply she had incurred
+Divine displeasure. Some people, with greater advantages than Mrs.
+Yellam, believe devoutly in signs. Lionel Pomfret's slow recovery had
+been thankfully accepted by Susan as a sign that Satan was not having it
+all his own way in Nether-Applewhite. If William Saint was removed from
+the scene of his time-serving activities, Mrs. Yellam felt that a signal
+victory over the powers of Evil would have been achieved. Such a
+victory, in a true religious sense, would re-tighten the spiritual
+fibres that, before the war, had bound her so closely to Omnipotence.
+Nay, more; she dared to presume that if Willum went, her Alfred would
+return, and pick up the scattered parcels of his good business as of
+yore.
+
+She confided all this to Solomon, but not to Fancy.
+
+Uncle furthered her wishes without any "mumbudgetting" between brother
+and sister. He disliked Saint, because his ale was watered. But he liked
+to meet his cronies at the _Sir John Barleycorn_. Being a brave, candid
+fellow, with a half-interest in the V. C., he told Saint to his face
+what he thought of the ale.
+
+"I likes my ale, and I bain't ashamed on't. I see eye to eye wi' this
+yere Horatio Bottomley about they pumpuritans, which I make bold to say
+includes milkmen" (Saint sold milk) "so well as publicans. Me and
+Bottomley do think just alike about knaves, hypocrites, and they as
+grinds the face o' the pore. Much o' what I read in Johnny Bull might
+ha' been written by me. I comes back to my tankard o' ale."
+
+"You allers do, Uncle."
+
+"What I likes about my first tankard be this. If 'tis good ale, such as
+used to be set afore a man, I drinks it wi' a grateful heart, a-smackin'
+my lips over the tankard to foller. If 'tis wishwash, I nourishes most
+onChristian feelin's, and loses my thirst."
+
+William Saint would reply imperturbably:
+
+"For a patriotic man, you surprise me, Uncle. The ale is not what it was
+because good barley is needed for better purposes."
+
+"I knows nothing about that."
+
+"A man with your great knowledge of everything ought to know."
+
+Uncle marked the irony, and resented it. In argument, as he well knew,
+Saint was too much for him. He began to study the publican and his
+hollow cough. He noted his manoeuvres: the tiny bit of land ploughed up,
+the buying of horses for remount agents, the sale of forage to the same
+interested parties, who might be trusted to speak up, when Conscription
+came, for an indispensable and indefatigable subject of the King. Uncle
+passed some not disagreeable moments speculating concerning the fouling
+of a well-lined nest.
+
+As the season of Peace and Goodwill approached, Lionel Pomfret was just
+able to hobble the length of the terrace with the assistance of a pair
+of crutches. His campaigning days were over. It was doubtful whether he
+would be seen again in the hunting-field. But high spirits remained
+inalienably his. He plunged with renewed ardour into schemes for the
+more intensive culture of a thin soil, and displayed remarkable
+aptitudes fortified by hard grinding at text-books. Hamlin spent many
+hours with him. In Lionel he seemed to see a type, the son of an ancient
+house, born with the silver spoon in his mouth, cradled in ease and
+luxury, popped on a pony to ride through life as soon as he was
+short-coated, sent to a great public-school, not to acquire learning,
+but manners and skill at games, pitchforked later into a famous
+regiment, with a handsome allowance, not to study the stern arts of war,
+but to hold his own at polo and pig-sticking.
+
+Hamlin had deplored such upbringing. But the results confounded him,
+forcing him once again to thrust carefully-considered judgments into the
+melting-pot. The fact bristled in front of him that Lionel, and
+thousands like him, had "made good" against all odds, vindicating an
+education which consistently disdained efficiency except at games and
+sport. What a gulf yawned between Prussian and English officers! The
+Prussians had scrapped everything to attain efficiency. They had got it.
+And what an atrocious use had been made of it! But their efficiency had
+constrained young men like Lionel to an efficiency greater because the
+inspiration of a fine cause lay behind it. That must be the keystone of
+any arch--inspiration. Whether for good or evil, it fired men to supreme
+endeavour.
+
+Out of Hamlin's four sons, three were now in the Army. Teddy, however,
+was the only one in France. The eldest son, in Orders, was still at
+Cambridge; the second, after passing through the O. T. C., had sailed
+for Salonika; the third had enlisted as a Bombardier.
+
+Christmas, therefore, seemed likely to be happy, if not merry.
+
+Upon Christmas Eve, Mrs. Yellam heard, officially, that Alfred was
+wounded.
+
+Upon Christmas Day, at Morning Service, her pew was empty.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+FANCY CONSULTS THE CARDS
+
+
+On the following Sunday, Mrs. Yellam's pew was empty again,
+conspicuously so, in the eyes of Hamlin. After luncheon he said to
+Fancy:
+
+"Is Mrs. Yellam ill?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+Hamlin guessed what had happened.
+
+"No news is good news, Fancy."
+
+"That's what the men say, sir. It ain't a mort of comfort to us women."
+
+She looked very white, with dark, heavy lines beneath her eyes. Hamlin
+said a few encouraging words to which she listened attentively, nodding
+her head. Hamlin felt reassured. Fancy was unhappy, but she didn't
+despair. Before she left the study, she said slowly:
+
+"I believe as Alfred will come back."
+
+To the solicitude and sympathy of neighbours Mrs. Yellam exhibited a
+frigid indifference.
+
+"I be just as well as never was," she remarked, when they enquired after
+her own health. "Time enough for such as me to fall sick if my Alferd
+don't come back."
+
+No further news had reached her. To Jane Mucklow, now the village
+optimist, with George at home on leave for Christmas, Mrs. Yellam spoke
+with some bitterness. Jane meant well; her sympathy was sincere, but how
+could she, so high in Divine favour, understand? Nothing could shake
+Susan's conviction that Alfred lay somewhere in France, mortally
+wounded, whilst William Saint, the hypocrite and rascal, knelt among the
+Communicants. To kneel with him, feeling as she did, would be, in her
+opinion, an act of sacrilege. She reflected miserably that, since
+confirmation, she had never missed a Christmas Celebration of the
+Eucharist.
+
+On the Monday, Hamlin came to visit her as parish priest. He had
+carefully considered what he should say. The faith that burned within
+this strong man had been a plant of slow growth, watered by suffering,
+pruned by constant self-analysis, and yet, in its essence, the faith of
+a child, a faith independent of dogma, soaring high above
+technicalities, resting securely upon a belief in ultimate good. He
+could not disguise from himself that the Churches--all of them--had
+crippled expectation. There had been no renascence, no uplifting
+movement, no real enthusiasm. Political considerations and expediencies
+kept the Vatican silent when a voice, thundering as from Sinai, might
+have awakened millions to a realisation of the issues at stake. The
+Church of England and the Nonconformists remained almost as stagnant,
+content, for the most part, with the well-oiled grooves, waiting for and
+watching Temporal Power, unable or unwilling to take the lead, to speak
+definitely, to act decisively. With rare exceptions, the gospel of Love
+had not been authoritatively used to vanquish the gospel of Hate.
+Hamlin, need it be said? was no sentimentalist. He believed with Woodrow
+Wilson that Prussian militarism must be wiped out. He did not believe
+with Wilson that the German nation, as a whole, could be exonerated from
+blame. Available evidence justified a different conclusion. Lust for
+world-dominion, regardless of consequence, animated and fortified the
+Central Powers because popular opinion lay behind them, unanimous save
+for a negligible minority. Non-resistance to a catastrophic policy of
+aggression, so potent, so meticulously organised threatened not only
+Christianity but civilisation. To turn the cheek to these smiting Huns
+was an unthinkable proposition to Hamlin. Nor could he find in the New
+Testament any injunction of the Master which could be twisted into a
+golden rule to be applied to States and nationalities. Christ dealt with
+individuals, preaching and practising the power of love as between man
+and man, not as between man and mankind. No text that Hamlin could find
+would justify forbearance towards a nation determined to inflict
+"Shrecklichkeit" upon the human race. On this point his mind was
+perfectly clear.
+
+It was not yet, however, so clear upon issues still to be determined,
+such as "After the War" problems. He could not measure the stride about
+to be taken, provided militarism was crushed. He wondered constantly,
+with ever-increasing apprehension, whether love would triumph in the
+end, as he prayed that it might, creating a new world concerned with the
+happiness of the many, a world purged of the old insensate vanities and
+acrimonies.
+
+Mrs. Yellam received him, as usual, a shade more formally, perhaps, with
+a slight tightening of her lips. Hamlin began as the personal friend of
+long standing, assuring the mother that her son, in all probability, was
+not severely wounded, that good news might be expected shortly, that
+very soon Alfred might be with her, out of the danger zone for a season,
+and able to give attention to his business. But he perceived that he was
+wasting words and time. She listened respectfully, saying nothing. He
+guessed what ebullitions of feeling were suppressed. He had been
+tormented by her anxieties, by her doubts. The loss of his wife had been
+irreparable. And when his daughter left him alone in the Vicarage, with
+nothing to engross him but his work, an odd distaste of life had
+assailed him, a slackness which he fought tooth and nail. Till then he
+had hardly known fatigue, as it is known to all women, that dull apathy
+more mental than physical which questions means and ends, exaggerating
+the difficulties of the former and minimising the latter, an apathy
+continually whispering the sad words: _cui bono_? He knew how hard Mrs.
+Yellam had worked for her husband, her children, and in particular for
+Alfred. During the last ten years all ambition, all energies had been
+concentrated upon him alone. She had made unconsciously, a God of him.
+
+Hamlin rose up to deliver his message. Mrs. Yellam rose with him.
+
+"I missed you in church yesterday, and on Christmas Day."
+
+"One old 'ooman can't be missed, sir."
+
+His eyes not his voice softened.
+
+"You are mistaken, Mrs. Yellam. A woman of your character in this parish
+is missed--more than you think, perhaps."
+
+"If Alferd comes back, you'll see me in my pew again."
+
+"You have made that rash bargain with your God?"
+
+She said defiantly:
+
+"How do I know as He is my God? The Kayser claims Him."
+
+Hamlin gazed keenly at her.
+
+"If--if I left the matter there, Mrs. Yellam, in the firm hope and
+belief that God's way, inscrutable as they may appear to us when all our
+energies are at a low ebb, will in His time be made manifest, may I not
+ask you, as your parish priest, to consider the example to others, the
+many, possibly, who are wavering in faith as you are?"
+
+"Fancy Broomfield bid me think of that."
+
+"Did she? Poor girl, she is distracted with anxiety, like you. But her
+faith sustains her. Have you thought of what Fancy told you?"
+
+She answered him slowly, weighing her words:
+
+"My faith be gone, sir. It may come back wi' Alferd. And feeling so
+bitter as I do about William Saint, who be stealing my boy's business,
+who be letting others fight for him, and making a fortin for hisself,
+can I kneel at God's Table?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What be I to do? Go to church, a whited sepulchre, and pretend that I
+be a Christian 'ooman? Do 'ee ask me to do that for sake of others?"
+
+Hamlin remained silent. She continued, more calmly:
+
+"I can't bring myself to go church along, although I'd be pleased to
+oblige you, sir."
+
+"It is no question of obliging me, Mrs. Yellam. Aren't you adding to
+your heavy burden instead of sharing it with One Who laid it upon you
+and Who alone can lighten it?"
+
+Grievously she shook her head. Hamlin took his leave. As he walked away,
+he muttered to himself: "Civil War--devastating Civil War raging in that
+poor old heart."
+
+He returned to the Vicarage with his mind dwelling upon the eternal
+conflict, a conflict accentuated by the world-war, because its issues
+seemed to enrich or impoverish everybody. By it, without a doubt, Susan
+Yellam had been impoverished. He himself was conscious of enrichment.
+But--he had not lost a son. He had five children.
+
+After tea Fancy cycled down, as usual, to the Yellam cottage. Solomon
+received her boisterously. She made sure that good news awaited her. A
+glance at Mrs. Yellam's set face put to flight her hopes. No news had
+come. Mrs. Yellam greeted the girl perfunctorily, and then said sharply:
+
+"Have you brought 'em?"
+
+"Yes," said Fancy.
+
+She took from a small hand-bag a much-used pack of cards. Mrs. Yellam
+had cleared a space upon the kitchen-table.
+
+"Set 'em out," she commanded.
+
+Fancy sat down, and began to shuffle the pack. Hamlin would have smiled
+sorrowfully, had he seen Mrs. Yellam's intent face as the girl's slim
+fingers dealt out the cards. So it had come to this. Rejecting the faith
+of sixty years, this poor old woman asked for hope and happiness from a
+fortuitous arrangement of bits of painted pasteboard! Comedy upon the
+underlying tragedy. Hamlin knew, of course, that astrologers, mediums,
+crystal-gazers and the like were doing a roaring trade.
+
+Mrs. Yellam, let it be noted, asked Fancy to bring the cards. Protest
+had quivered upon Fancy's lips and stayed there.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"It is well, Mother. Alfred will come back. This makes the third time;
+and, do you know, when I rode up Sol barked and wagged his tail."
+
+"Did he? The dog be full o' fun now."
+
+Fancy went down on her knees; Sol barked at her, and then began to race
+round the room, playing what Fancy called "mad dog." He ended by
+leaping, panting, into Mrs. Yellam's lap.
+
+"I believe he knows something, Fancy."
+
+"I'm sure he does. Would he carry on like that if--if Alfred was real
+bad?"
+
+Thus each woman, in her artless way, consoled the other.
+
+Upon the Tuesday, details reached Mrs. Yellam. Alfred had been shot in
+the arm; the bone was badly broken; his destination was Netley.
+
+Strings were pulled by Sir Geoffrey. Before the week was out Alfred
+arrived at Pomfret Court. He looked much the same, not quite so
+rubicund; he carried his left arm in a sling. Upon the following Sunday,
+Mrs. Yellam appeared in her pew, and the fervour of her responses
+excited some comment.
+
+She said to Fancy:
+
+"The cards told true. Now, the sooner you and Alferd becomes man and
+wife the better."
+
+The doctor, who visited Pomfret Court daily, raised no objections.
+Alfred's arm would keep him in Nether-Applewhite for many weeks, because
+small splinters, from time to time, would have to be extracted, a
+tedious process. Mrs. Yellam, when she heard this, said with twinkling
+eyes:
+
+"Alfred, dear, why didn't you get wounded in both arms?"
+
+To which Alfred replied slily:
+
+"I kept my right arm, Mother, to slip round Fancy's waist."
+
+He told many stories to which Fancy and Mrs. Yellam listened entranced,
+and he spoke of the enemy with respect and without rancour. Upon one
+occasion, as his battalion moved into the trenches, a German had shouted
+out in excellent English:
+
+"Be you the Wiltsheers?"
+
+A reply in the affirmative provoked a request for "pozzy" (jam). But a
+tall sergeant, who stood up to hurl a can of preserve into the German
+trench, was shot dead. This aroused tremendous wrath, as quickly allayed
+when the same voice shouted again, asking if the sergeant who threw the
+jam had been hurt. He was soon satisfied on that point, and,
+immediately, a hubbub arose in the enemy trench, and a shot was heard.
+Soon afterwards the Wiltshires learnt from the lips of the first speaker
+that the man who treacherously slew the sergeant had been "done in."
+
+"They ain't all bad," said Alfred.
+
+To Mrs. Yellam's amazement, her son merely laughed when she told him of
+Willum Saint's activities.
+
+"'Tis life, Mother. Down river, if a trout's caught behind an old stump,
+another takes his pitch before night."
+
+Mrs. Yellam, however, noted with satisfaction that although Alfred was
+incapacitated from driving his motor-'bus, the business, since his
+arrival in Nether-Applewhite, had leaped ahead again with a renewed
+impetus. William Saint looked sour.
+
+Fancy bought her modest trousseau, and, incidentally, put on several
+pounds in weight. The weather happened to be bitter, but she never felt
+cold when walking out with Alfred. He spoke with enthusiasm of his
+officers:
+
+"They're fine gentlemen, Fancy. And those in the ranks are finest of
+all." Then he told her a story about two men in a London regiment, both
+privates and chums. One was an East-ender; the father of the other owned
+a house in Park Lane. The Cockney asked his chum if he had ever visited
+Whitechapel. The other remembered that he had bought a bull-terrier from
+a fancier in the Mile End Road. He remembered, also, that he had been
+handsomely "done" over the deal. After a pause, the Cockney said with a
+grin: "I sold you that dawg, Algy. What a mug you was then!"
+
+But Fancy remarked one amazing change in her lover. He never spoke of
+the future. His enjoyment of the present was unmistakable. This
+abstention from a topic which formerly had engrossed him became more and
+more significant. The girl realised what Alfred had been through,
+although, unlike most of the wounded men at the Court, he recited no
+"horrors." Gradually, too, she perceived a change in his face: he had
+"fined down"; his eyes were more alert, with a curiously steadfast
+expression. She had never talked with him about religion. That was taken
+for granted, and might be summed up as a cut-and-dried sense of certain
+obligations such as church-going, honourable dealings with neighbours,
+loyalty to the Sovereign, and sobriety of conduct. He knew nothing about
+the empty pew.
+
+"Mother took my going awful hard. Did she talk to you about it?"
+
+Fancy told him what had taken place. Alfred held his tongue till she had
+finished.
+
+"Thought she'd lost her soul, did she? Poor dear!"
+
+"William Saint doing so well and cutting into your business worried her
+dreadful. I think it worries her still that you takes it so easy."
+
+Alfred meditated upon this. When he answered her, he conveyed to her
+mind an extraordinary sense of detachment, as if he, the strong man, so
+enterprising as a carrier, so alert for "orders," had become suddenly an
+onlooker at the game of life. Perhaps surroundings lent themselves to
+this impression. They had climbed slowly to the high downs, and were
+standing near a noted landmark, a small tower known as the Pepper Box. A
+sharp frost had silvered the downs. The air was very still. Upon each
+side of them stretched the uplands, melting into distant woods. No
+animals were to be seen, not a sheep, not a bird. They seemed to stand
+alone in a beautiful, deserted world.
+
+"I suppose," he said, "that 'tis like this. Before the war, I might have
+felt different towards William Saint. And after the war, Fancy, if I'm
+here, I shall try hard to get back my own again. But to-day I'm thinking
+of peace. Fed-up with war I am. I want to live quiet with you and
+Mother. I talked a lot of foolishness once about making big money. You
+didn't cotton much to the notion. Maybe you feared it would take me away
+from you?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"Well, maybe it would. Money drives some folks apart, and the want of it
+brings 'em together. And, out there, plotting and planning seems silly,
+because one may be--'next.'"
+
+She clutched his arm. He smiled at her, continuing slowly:
+
+"'Tain't so terrible a thought. Most of us fears pain more'n death. I
+see more frightened folks in Nether-Applewhite than in the dug outs.
+Queer thoughts have come to me, my maid, since we two parted."
+
+"Tell them to me, Alfie."
+
+"'Tisn't easy unless a man has the gift of words. Times, especially at
+night, when an attack is expected I've lain still as a dormouse,
+thinking that 'twas unreal, a dream like, and that soon I should wake up
+and find myself somewhere else."
+
+"I often feel just that way."
+
+"Ah-h-h! Another queer notion is this: the best seem to go first, Fancy;
+some of the young officers. Why? I figure it out that death is a big
+prize to such. It does explain things a bit, don't it? They get their
+reward---quick! And then I set to figuring who is best. God Almighty
+knows. One feller in my platoon, before I got my stripes, was a
+right-down scallywag, a gaol-bird."
+
+"My!"
+
+"'Twas his notion about death being a prize for the lucky ones. And he
+told me that he loved to think how bad he'd been, because he reckoned
+himself safe, sure to be one of the last to be called. Next week, he was
+blown to a pulp, except his face, and on that was the queerest smile I
+ever saw. I helped to carry in what was left."
+
+She clung closer to him. He said in his ordinary genial tones:
+
+"I feel myself again in Blighty, dear. But I want no unpleasantness with
+William Saint or any one else. I think, night and day, of you, soon to
+be my dear wife."
+
+Love-making rolled on smoothly, as before the war.
+
+But what Alfred had said remained in Fancy's mind. It explained much
+that had puzzled her ever since she was able to think: her father's
+ill-health and ill-fortune, her mother's premature death, and the big
+casualty-lists. If life was a dream--! If reality lay beyond--! Then all
+the mysteries, the inequalities, the apparent injustices, could be
+explained. Such an explanation is old as human thought. It can be found
+in the Vedas, in the Bible, in the writings of the Gnostics, in some of
+the pagan and modern philosophies. Fancy, however, was neither concerned
+nor interested in speculations veiled in words she could not understand.
+Alfred's queer notions were his and hers, rushlights shining in the
+darkness. But terror touched her heart, when she applied the obvious
+conclusion to herself. If the best were taken, why then Alfred would be
+numbered amongst them.
+
+As her wedding-day approached, this apprehension grew fainter and then
+disappeared for a time. She resolved to live in the present, not in the
+shadows of past or future. Such resolution has been a fairy godmother's
+gift to young women in Fancy's class of life. They turn their eyes
+gratefully to the sun whenever it shines upon them.
+
+She had never been so happy before.
+
+It was arranged that part of the honeymoon should be spent in London.
+After three days' sight-seeing, the pair would return to Mrs. Yellam's
+cottage. Alfred bestowed upon Fancy a black fur stole and muff, a
+wrist-watch, and a pair of silver-backed hair-brushes.
+
+She placed these oblations upon a chair near her bed, so that her eyes
+could gloat upon them the last thing at night and the first thing in the
+morning.
+
+Sergeant George Mucklow, V. C., promised to act as best man.
+
+Mrs. Yellam was nearly as happy as Fancy. One fly settled in her
+ointment. Conscription had become the law of the land. But the local
+tribunal exempted William Saint. Uncle predicted that he would be called
+up later. Jane, of course, contradicted this on general principles. With
+Mrs. Yellam she believed that Satan would take good care of his own.
+
+The men at Pomfret Court gave a sing-song in Alfred's honour upon the
+afternoon before he left them. Fancy sat beside the bridegroom-elect
+amongst the quality. She liked one new song so much that she clapped her
+hands and called out "Encore" before anybody else. The chorus of that
+song is now known to every English-speaking soldier in the world.
+
+     There's a long, long trail a-winding
+     Into the land of my dreams;
+     Where the nightingales are singing,
+     And a white moon beams.
+     There's a long, long night of waiting
+     Until my dreams all come true;
+     Till the day when I'll be going down
+     That long, long trail with you.
+
+Her dreams had come true; the night of waiting was past.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+HYMENEAL
+
+
+They were married from Mr. Broomfield's house in Salisbury, and, before
+returning to Nether-Applewhite, Mrs. Yellam reconsidered her opinion of
+Fancy's father. He was more than half a man. Call him three-quarters at
+least. The other quarter was woman. Fancy always affirmed that her sire
+had played mother to her. Mrs. Yellam, after some intimate conversation
+with Mr. Broomfield, believed this to be true. It seemed odd to think of
+a farrier--the brawny blacksmith of the village chestnut-tree--helping
+to undress dolls and smacking them when they misbehaved themselves. But
+Mr. Broomfield was not brawny. He had Fancy's pale face and large,
+luminous eyes. He talked about books, not storybooks, which Susan Yellam
+disdained as "rubbishy truck," but solid, respectable treatises dealing
+with subjects far beyond Susan's ken, such as the better housing of the
+poor, communal kitchens, and a more equable wage for the working-man.
+About such talk hung a flavour of Radicalism, a whiff of Socialism. Mrs.
+Yellam gasped for breath when Mr. Broomfield "blasphemiously" labelled
+Christ as Socialist. As a set-off, the man actually believed in fairies!
+Mrs. Yellam had never met his like. But she admitted somewhat grudgingly
+his charm as a companion. He attended Divine Worship, regularly,
+observed the Sabbath, and spoke with enthusiasm of the cathedral. He
+could laugh at his own mild jokes. Through him, Mrs. Yellam came to a
+subtler understanding of her daughter-in-law. She accepted Fancy, so she
+informed Mr. Broomfield, as a daughter, saying trenchantly: "No
+'in-laws' for me." But she ceased to regard her as a child. Fancy's
+artless ways, she decided, were on the surface. Beneath might be found,
+by a diligent delver, a remarkable little woman, sensible, very
+affectionate, but queer, like her father. Mr. Broomfield, apparently,
+could enjoy a joke against himself. Susan, with a very limited sense of
+humour, was incapable of such a feat. Speaking of motors, Mr. Broomfield
+said whimsically:
+
+"What I've lost over 'em, Mrs. Yellam, seems to have been picked up by
+Alfred. So--no complaints! Good money remains in the family."
+
+To Susan this cheerful acceptance of bludgeonings indicated Christian
+resignation rather than humour. She told the farrier forthwith all about
+William Saint--the "Proosian." Mr. Broomfield listened sympathetically.
+He perceived that Mrs. Yellam was disappointed because Alfred had not
+"man-handled" a rascal and hypocrite, but he said with an odd chuckle:
+
+"That makes things harder for this Saint, don't it?"
+
+"I begs your pardon, Mr. Broomfield--whatever does you mean?"
+
+She thought for the moment that he was as light in head as in body.
+Fancy's father went on chuckling:
+
+"Well, from what you tell me of Alfred, and seeing what a big, strong
+man he is, I expect that William Saint is worrying. Like as not he
+looked for a row and wanted to get it over. Now, I reckon, being the
+coward you say he is, that he lies awake wondering when he'll catch it.
+Once, when I was a boy, I had to wait for a good whipping from Saturday
+till Monday. I've forgotten the whipping, Mrs. Yellam, but I remember
+that miserable Sunday."
+
+Mrs. Yellam was much impressed with this point of view, admitting
+cautiously that it opened new vistas. Disturbed nights must be William
+Saint's portion and punishment. Mr. Broomfield hammered home his nail:
+
+"'Tis the same way with sinners--and this Saint seems a crafty
+sinner--outwardly they look fat and prosperous, but inwardly I reckon
+they give uneasy thought to a Day o' Judgment when they won't be invited
+to stand amongst the sheep. I've neighbours in this town, Mrs. Yellam,
+who have done the dirty on me. I never think of them. It dirties my mind
+to do so. I like to think of my friends instead."
+
+"You be a true Christian man."
+
+Later, she told Uncle, who set, perhaps, an undue value on
+chest-measurements, that Mr. Broomfield was very much of a gentleman,
+and repeated what had been said about Saint. Uncle saw the funny side of
+it, and smacked his thigh.
+
+"Saint Willum--! I shall call 'un that in his own bar. 'Tis a rare jest.
+Saint Willum living amongst us sheep and knowing full well that he be a
+goat. He do act the goat, too, when the sheep be grazin' away from he. I
+could tell 'ee stories, Susan...."
+
+"Don't, Habakkuk! Mr. Broomfield be right. I means to think o' my
+friends, and I refuses to dirty my mind wi' listenin' to stories o'
+goats."
+
+Her responses in church became louder and more fervent. Having gained
+the shore, after many buffetings, she put from her disagreeable memories
+of billows past.
+
+Fancy and Alfred returned from London town full of high spirits and
+overbrimming with talk. Fancy looked prettier than ever hanging upon the
+right arm of her sergeant. His left arm still hung in a sling. The
+doctor, who examined it periodically, said solemnly:
+
+"I'm very sorry, Sergeant, but I can't pass you as fit for duty."
+
+Alfred grinned:
+
+"You do pull my pore arm about, sir, but don't pull my leg, please."
+
+The doctor laughed.
+
+"You may count on six weeks at home, perhaps more."
+
+The momentary pain of having small splinters of bone extracted was
+negligible compared with six weeks of married bliss.
+
+Fancy's happiness defies analysis. Her naive ecstasies astounded Mrs.
+Yellam, to whom marriage had been rather a prosaic affair. She wondered
+occasionally if this had been her fault. Why had dull contentment set in
+so soon? As a young wife, she may have overbusied herself with domestic
+duties. Fancy practised wiles and guiles with Alfred. She planned quaint
+little surprises, played dexterously with an imagination which became as
+lively as her own. One evening, when Fancy was upstairs, Alfred took
+from his pocket some pieces of white paper, all that was left of three
+packets of food. Abroad on business, Alfred had lunched under a hedge
+by himself, far from home. Upon the paper were pencilings in Fancy's
+handwriting. Mrs. Yellam wiped her spectacles and put them on. She
+read three sentences:--"Meat sandwiches. Don't gobble 'em! Say
+grace and think of Fancy." Upon the next piece of paper this was
+scribbled:--"Bread and butter and cheese--and _kisses_." And then the
+third:--"Rich cake stolen from Mother by a loving thief. P. S. Another
+fat kiss has just started to grow. F. Y."
+
+Mrs. Yellam returned the papers. Alfred folded them carefully, and
+placed them in the inner pocket of his tunic.
+
+"They go back with me to France," he said quietly.
+
+Mrs. Yellam sighed.
+
+"You be a lucky man, Alferd."
+
+He nodded and went upstairs. Mrs. Yellam heard a tinkle of laughter. She
+sat on, thinking; a frown wrinkled her broad forehead. She had never
+played the game of love as Fancy played it. It occurred to her that she
+had missed something all her life without knowing what it was. It might
+be wise to consult Solomon, who was gazing at her interrogatively, with
+his head on one side. She did so.
+
+"Be they a pair o' fools, Solly?"
+
+Solomon never budged. This might be taken to mean an answer in the
+negative.
+
+"There be wisdom in folly, my dog, and folly in wisdom. You knows that?"
+
+Solomon wagged his tail. Mrs. Yellam continued:
+
+"I be learning things, Solly, old as I be. I wish I'd ha' learned 'em
+earlier. I might ha' been a happier 'ooman. I might ha' made my man
+happier. Why do such knowledge come to us too late?"
+
+Solomon gazed at his mistress intently. From his expression Mrs. Yellam
+divined that all her questions could be answered exhaustively by any dog
+able to wag his tongue instead of his tail.
+
+The war went on.
+
+Conscription began to dislocate small trades and industries, but
+Nether-Applewhite hardly felt the pinch of this. A few of the young
+women disappeared, seeking higher wages in munition-works. One or two
+returned to the village wearing coney-seal coats, and peacocking into
+church with bold eyes challenging attention from wounded heroes. Mrs.
+Yellam was much exasperated. All strikes she regarded as sinful. Satan,
+and his dark legions, had been the first to rebel against Authority.
+Hence--Hell! She envisaged as Hell industrial England, with its
+blast-furnaces vomiting flames and smoke day and night, with its black
+hordes of angry strikers disgracefully overpaid in comparison with the
+pittance doled out to Sergeant Yellam. Coney-seal coats "dirtied" her
+mind. Many of them, no doubt, were the obvious wages of sin. She rebuked
+Alfred severely, when he proposed to buy one for Fancy. Alfred defended
+himself and the wearers of the coats.
+
+"It's one of the signs of the times, Mother. I thought you were an
+'Onward' one."
+
+"Lard help us! Not 'Onward and downward.'"
+
+"It's all the result of the war," affirmed Alfred. "Money's scarcer
+amongst the quality, but poor folks are richer. Why shouldn't our girls
+have a good time? They're working hard for the country."
+
+Mrs. Yellam retorted viciously:
+
+"Being a man, wi' an eye for a pretty face, you sticks up for the girls.
+But what about they miners, a-smoking silling cigars and a-drinking
+champagne, when our boys are dying at one-and-tuppence a day? And some
+o' they strikers, so they tells me, 'd as lief live under Kayser Bill as
+under King Garge."
+
+"Is that their fault, Mother?"
+
+"What do you say? Gracious! Be you telling me that such wickedness be
+_my_ fault?"
+
+Alfred smiled pleasantly. He was not entitled to full credit for his
+answer; he had been talking upon the subject with Lionel Pomfret.
+
+"It's the fault of the quality, Mother."
+
+"What a tale!"
+
+Alfred proceeded to explain. Although his brains worked slowly, and
+despite the lack of an adequate vocabulary, he could be trusted to
+repeat faithfully anything that had made a deep impression. He pointed
+out to Mrs. Yellam, in language she could understand, that the weak in
+mind and body were ever at the mercy of the strong. The quality, before
+the war, had been strong. They had exercised their strength, speaking
+generally, at the expense of the weak, fortifying their own impregnable
+position. The masses, with rare exceptions, had submitted to imposed
+conditions. They struggled on in the gloom, groping here and there for
+illumination. Ill-educated, ill-fed, ill-clothed, they became gradually
+conscious that things might be better and could hardly be worse. It made
+precious little difference to them, poor Bezonians, under which king
+they lived or died. The real advantages of living under King George were
+patent to others, not to these unhappy prisoners in bondage to their
+taskmasters. Alfred informed his mother, in conclusion, that within the
+memory of living man children of tenderest years had been driven to work
+in deep coal-mines, half-starved and half-naked, and kept at work, under
+the lash, in rabbit-holes of passages, because such work by warping
+their poor backs enabled them to get coal out of places where the
+straight-backed could not go. Conditions had changed for the better
+since those days, but not much, not nearly enough.
+
+Mrs. Yellam was visibly impressed.
+
+Alfred went on in his own quiet way:
+
+"I've talked with such fellers in the trenches, Mother. You be sure of
+this: they ain't going back to slavery."
+
+"Slavery, Alfred, in England!"
+
+"There are slaves in Ocknell, to-day, Mother. Some pore devils had to be
+'fetched.' They didn't know enough to get out of their hog-wallows. 'Tis
+rank slavery for a man to bring up wife and six little 'uns on fifteen
+bob a week."
+
+"Anyways," replied Mrs. Yellam, tartly, "I don't hold wi' fur coats on
+the backs o' hussies whose mothers can't afford decent underlinen. And
+that minds me o' the advertisements in my paper. I fair blush to look at
+'un. Pictures o' garments that I hangs up to dry out o' sight in my back
+yard."
+
+Alfred laughed loudly.
+
+"It always seemed to me as if you women hid the things you were ashamed
+of. The pretty frillies flutter in the wind, where all can see 'em, and
+envy 'em. Nether-Applewhite knew when Rose Mucklow took to nighties
+trimmed with real Val."
+
+Mrs. Yellam sighed, admitting frankly that she couldn't keep in step
+with the times. Alfred, conscious, possibly, that some of his mother's
+shafts were aimed at him, said tentatively:
+
+"Are you miffed because I gave Fancy a fur muff and stole?"
+
+"I don't know as I bain't. A wise man, my son, puts money in bank, not
+on back."
+
+"I see you putting your savings into stockings. Blame the war, Mother,
+not me. I aimed to make Fancy happy, and to see her smile, whilst I'm
+here to see it. We're both hay-making in these March winds."
+
+Mrs. Yellam surrendered.
+
+What Alfred said remained in her ample mind, to be considered carefully
+at leisure. She abhorred extravagance. But, in March, she might have
+bought a warm muff for herself, had she been told by her doctor that she
+would die before June. Insensibly she adopted part of Alfred's new
+philosophy. She set before bride and groom the best plain food
+procurable; she piled logs on the open hearth; she put the two
+coffin-stools into a cupboard.
+
+And she read her Bible diligently, believing devoutly that she was
+basking in heavenly sunshine.
+
+The six weeks raced by, but Alfred's arm mended less rapidly. He was
+given three weeks' more leave. His business had picked up wonderfully
+ever since he was able to bestow upon it personal attention. Perhaps
+William Saint withdrew tentacles, waiting for better opportunities later
+on. Alfred didn't drive his 'bus, but he whipped up old customers,
+chaffing them pleasantly, avoiding reproaches. All the women liked his
+manners, which were easy without being too free. Fancy felt jealous at
+times, and couldn't hide it: a tribute to love which Alfred accepted in
+the right spirit.
+
+"I couldn't be unfaithful to you, if I tried," he whispered to her. "I
+love you so dearly that my heart warms to all females. I could kiss the
+ugliest just because you're my sweet wife."
+
+"Oh, Alfie, I couldn't bear that."
+
+He never left home without finding her on his return hovering about the
+wicket-gate, waving her hand as he appeared round the bend of the road,
+and hurrying to meet him with outstretched arms. Those spoke eloquently
+of the suffering which approaching separation must impose. Each
+refrained from mention of France.
+
+Alfred hoped that she would have something to console her, something
+intimately his and hers, when he went back to the front. From the first,
+husband and wife had discussed the possibility of children.
+
+"Are you afraid?" he asked, thinking of her mother.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Ah-h-h. I'm not surprised to hear that."
+
+"I want to whisper something, Alfie."
+
+He inclined his head. She kissed his ear, murmuring:
+
+"I _am_ afraid--afraid it mayn't come. That's the only fear I have."
+
+He was profoundly moved, sensible that his feelings were the more tender
+because, before the war, he would have accepted paternity and all it
+implied as an ordinary happening. Till he had suffered himself--his
+wound had caused him intense pain--he had never thought of what women
+endure every time a child is born into the world.
+
+"What a brave dear you are!"
+
+She whispered again:
+
+"Would you like a He or a She?"
+
+Alfred insisted that first choice lay with her.
+
+"I want a boy."
+
+"I believe I should love a lil' maid best."
+
+"Better than you love me, maybe?"
+
+Having answered this in his own way, Alfred said abruptly:
+
+"If 'tis a maid, you must call her Lizzie. 'Twill please Mother. I can
+see the child traipsin' after her."
+
+Fancy said doubtfully:
+
+"Lizzie ain't a pretty name, Alfie. I thought of Alfreda--Freda for
+short."
+
+"Been thinking of that already, have you? Let it be Lizzie, Fancy.
+Promise me, dear!"
+
+She promised, and then laughed gaily:
+
+"Ain't we counting our chicks before they're hatched?"
+
+"We might be worse employed."
+
+"And if one comes, Alfie, I know 'twill be a big baby boy."
+
+"You have it your own way. I allow it concerns you more'n me."
+
+April was nearly over before Alfred went back. He might have been
+transferred to his depot, following the example of the hero. Sir
+Geoffrey was quite willing to pull more strings, and hinted as much to
+Sergeant Yellam. Alfred refused the kind offer, pledging the Squire to
+secrecy. Something he couldn't define, some dominating, irresistible
+impulse drew him to his own men. He admitted to the Squire that he was
+sorely tempted.
+
+"I know my job, Sir Geoffrey. And I know how bad we are wanted."
+
+Upon the eve of departure Fancy told him that she hoped, she believed,
+she was almost sure that the wish of both their hearts would be granted.
+If he got Yuletide leave, he might be in time for a christening.
+
+Mother and wife travelled to Southampton to speed the Sergeant on his
+way. No tears were shed till his broad back was turned on them at the
+dock-gates. They were spared that heart-twisting spectacle, the slow
+warping from the wharf of a great transport, the strains of "The Girl he
+left behind Him," the long line of faces packed close above the
+bulwarks, the interminable wait till the ship became a blur upon the
+waters.
+
+In silence they returned by train to Salisbury, sitting side by side,
+gripping each other's hands. A drizzle of rain obscured the landscape.
+Fancy told herself that sunshine would have been hard to bear.
+Capricious Nature seemed to be mourning with her, dropping soft tears
+upon a past four months so enchanting that they seemed, to-day, unreal,
+a mirage, too beautiful to be seen again. But Spring laughs through her
+showers. Before Nether-Applewhite was reached, the sun shone below the
+clouds, setting in a blaze of crimson splendour. Solomon greeted the
+women joyously; in the water meadows the Squire's black-and-white
+Frisian-Holsteins were grazing quietly; now and again Fancy heard the
+bleat of a calf. The plaintive cry seemed to turn her from a girl into a
+woman. She realised that never again could she be the girl of yesterday.
+Alfred would kiss a matron when he returned.
+
+After supper, when things were washed up, and Mrs. Yellam had taken up
+her sewing, Fancy disappeared for a moment, returning with her pack of
+cards. Mrs. Yellam made no comment at first, but she fidgeted in her
+armchair. As Fancy shuffled the pack, she said quietly:
+
+"Don't, dear!"
+
+"I must, Mother. They told true before."
+
+"Very well."
+
+Resolutely she turned her eyes to her needle, not daring to look at
+Fancy's face. She found herself wondering whether Fancy would be tempted
+to cheat, to shuffle back some card of ill-omen. After an eternity of
+suspense, she heard Fancy's clear voice:
+
+"It's quite all right. He's coming back."
+
+Mrs. Yellam laid down her sewing, and rose majestically. In a small
+cupboard, a special sanctuary to the right of the hearth, she kept some
+home-made cordials: mead, currant wine, and ginger-brandy. Upon very
+special occasions she would produce such strong waters, and drink one
+small glass, not more. Her feelings might be gauged by the cordial
+selected. Mead was well enough after village christenings and
+churchings; the currant wine was stronger tipple, and very heartening
+after a wedding. The ginger-brandy warmed bodies chilled by winter
+funerals.
+
+She took down the currant wine, and fetched two glasses. Having filled
+them to the brim, she gave one to Fancy and held up the other.
+
+"Alferd."
+
+They clinked glasses and drank, very solemnly. Mrs. Yellam replaced the
+bottle of wine and washed the glasses. Returning to her chair, she
+perceived that Fancy was re-shuffling the cards.
+
+"Leave well alone, child."
+
+"I want to try something else."
+
+"What, you queer creature?"
+
+"I'm wondering whether IT will be a He or a She?"
+
+"What notions you has, to be sure!"
+
+Fancy laughed and dealt on. Mrs. Yellam sat down, looking into the
+smouldering embers, seeing, possibly, the shadowy forms of the children
+she had lost. The wooden cradle which had rocked them to sleep stood in
+its place to the left of the fireplace--full of logs. It would serve for
+Fancy's child, for her own grandchild. And upstairs, in an old chest of
+drawers, lay some little things, tiny shifts and frocks with lavender
+between them. Once, in a moment of dull despair, she had resolved to
+burn them. A kindlier thought had urged her to give them, away. She had
+put that thought from her frowningly. How deeply the gain of others
+magnifies and distorts our own loss! Happy instinct must have
+constrained her to keep these garments made by her own hands, although
+at the time she never recked that they might be worn, so long
+afterwards, by flesh of her flesh and bone of her bone.
+
+"Mother...."
+
+"Ah-h-h! You've settled the affair, have 'ee?"
+
+"Yes. 'Tis a boy--another Alfred. Ain't you glad?"
+
+"I be ready to welcome any babe, boy or girl, as belongs to Alferd--and
+you."
+
+Solomon, dreaming blissfully of rats, woke up and wagged his tail.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+LEANNESS OF SOUL
+
+
+Life meandered on in the village. Mrs. Yellam spent her mornings at
+Pomfret Court; Fancy took her place in the afternoon; they were together
+during the light-lengthening evenings. By this happy arrangement, two
+women, not of the same temperament, never saw too much of each other.
+They met at supper, glad to exchange the mild gossip of the day. And,
+always, after uneasy matutinal hours, Fancy felt a renewed zest in life,
+an appetite for work amongst the "boys," and a delightful consciousness
+that physical strength--heretofore lacking--was slowly coming to fortify
+a frail body against the still far-off ordeal. She learnt much from Mrs.
+Yellam, and said so with flattering reiteration. Mrs. Yellam may have
+learnt more from her, but she did not say so. That, perhaps, constituted
+the essential difference between them. Fancy's thoughts and ideas
+bubbled out of her mind, effervescent, like water from a chalybeate
+spring. Mrs. Yellam had suppressed her intimate thoughts since
+childhood. What she said, indeed, masked her real feelings, conveying to
+others an impression of shrewdness, cocksureness and unruffled calm. It
+would be grossly unfair to speak of this as a pose. Since girlhood, she
+had been shrewd, sure of herself, and calm. Now, when she was past
+sixty, these comfortable and admirable attributes deserted her. She
+judged herself quite as severely as she judged her neighbours. She knew
+that, inwardly, she was questioning her wisdom, her cherished
+convictions, and her unruffled deportment.
+
+"I be a whited sepulchre," she told Solomon.
+
+Nevertheless, during these Spring days, when May was dancing in the
+woods and across the fields, rest and refreshment fell upon Mrs.
+Yellam's perplexed mind. By sheer force of will, for her own sake and
+for Fancy's sake, she called "Pax" to introspection, and, like a
+schoolboy, almost believed that the kindliest dew from heaven had fallen
+upon her. During this month, too, Alfred happened to be out of the
+danger zone, busy with new drafts who had not yet been under fire. And
+everybody in Nether-Applewhite predicted that the war must end soon
+because sheer exhaustion, military and economic, affected so
+tremendously the belligerents. Upon this _cheval de bataille_ Sir
+Geoffrey Pomfret rode over all obstacles. Old Captain Davenant bestrode
+just such another charger. Uncle, you may be sure, ran with them,
+throwing his tongue, speaking to a breast-high scent.
+
+"We be nigh the end on't," he told his cronies. "They Proosians be more
+fed up wi' mud and blood than us. I talks of what I knows. The slaughter
+o' they Huns be so fearsome that Kayser Bill be a-thinkin' night and day
+o' polligammy."
+
+"Polly--who? I never heard tell o' she, Uncle."
+
+To this interruption Uncle replied with something of his sister's
+majesty.
+
+"Ah-h-h! This war'd be over now, if beastly ignerunce ran mute.
+Polligammy be practised, as I told old Captain, by cannibals and such.
+For why? Because they eats up the young men, and then there bain't
+husbands enough to go round. Polligammy allows a man to marry so many
+wives as he's a mind to."
+
+"Lard preserve our dear lives!"
+
+"Yes, my sonnies, that's how life be preserved amongst savage tribes.
+They Huns be cannibals and worse. When I told Squire as they fellers
+used corps to make them tasty Bolony sausages, he couldn't believe me;
+but 'tis a fact."
+
+"How do you know?" asked William Saint.
+
+"Never you mind how I knows, Saint Willum. I don't never help myself to
+what isn't mine. I nourishes meself wi' sober truth, not lies. Where be
+I? Ah, yes. Well, neighbours, they be come to that pretty pass,
+polligammy. I allows that one wife be enough for me."
+
+"More than enough, 'tis said, Uncle."
+
+"You be seldom right, my man, but times you hit the mark. Now, I figures
+it out this way. They Huns be savages, but not fools. One wife be more'n
+enough for any man, and if so be as Kayser Bill makes polligammy the law
+in German land, why, I says they won't stick it. 'Tis the beginning o'
+the end."
+
+An old gaffer was not sure about this. Women in Germany, so he'd been
+told, worked with dogs in carts. A farmer with fifty wives might get a
+lot of work out of them. The gaffer spoke with some authority, having
+buried three wives in his time. All present knew that they had worked
+hard for their husband. Uncle, however, after more strong talk and weak
+ale, convinced his audience that peace would be declared before October.
+Wiser folk held the same opinion.
+
+The villagers, at last, were beginning to feel the pinch of war. Wages
+had risen, greatly to their satisfaction, but prices outstripped them.
+The local store closed shutters, because the proprietor was called up.
+The baker was baking bread somewhere in the North Sea. On Sundays Mrs.
+Yellam and other housewives ate cold victuals for dinner, unless they
+stayed away from Morning Service to make hot beef-and-kidney puddings.
+Shopping had to be done in Salisbury. This meant increased business for
+the carrier. But, unhappily, Alfred's _locum tenens_ lacked the
+executive ability to cope successfully with a glut of orders.
+
+In August, William Saint began a daily service to the county town. Peace
+fled, silently, from Mrs. Yellam's pillow.
+
+In September, worse followed. Fortune, cruel jade, lashed out at Mrs.
+Yellam, striking her hard below the belt. Alfred's resplendent 'bus was
+knocked into a deep ditch by a huge Government trolley, which rolled
+serenely on--undamaged.
+
+_Et tu, Brute----!_
+
+Try to picture Mrs. Yellam's feelings. The 'bus was out of action. That
+in itself might be deemed a serious mishap, to use a word often in
+Nether-Applewhite mouths, a word applicable to murders, chicken-pox,
+frozen water-pipes and other domestic disasters. External and internal
+injuries to the car might be set right in six weeks or so. Skilled
+mechanics in Salisbury were overworked. No definite promise could be
+extracted from the firm that sold the 'bus to Alfred. But the driver,
+the middle-aged man whom, with all his faults, Mrs. Yellam had come to
+regard as a tower of sobriety and honesty, sustained concussion of the
+brain. He soon recovered from this but, alas! his nerve was gone.
+Obstinately, deaf to Fancy's coaxing and to Mrs. Yellam's trenchant
+protestations, he tendered notice. How could he be replaced? By the time
+that the 'bus was in order again--insurance covered all damage--William
+Saint would have captured Alfred's faithful customers; the faithless
+were his already.
+
+But what rankled so bitterly in Mrs. Yellam's heart, and would have
+provoked the Caesarean apostrophe had she indulged in quotations from the
+Swan of Avon, was the tormenting reflection that the Army had dealt her
+this parlous blow, the Army she loved, because Alfred was part of it.
+Rampaging on, like a ruthless Juggernaut, the trolley had crashed into
+the 'bus, wiping it out, killing it and burying it in a ditch.
+
+Sympathy flowed into the Yellam cottage from all points of the compass,
+a generous flood upon which Fancy floated buoyantly. Poor Mrs. Yellam
+sank beneath it, helplessly aware of its significance. Everybody, of
+course, knew that Alfred's business was bound up in the 'bus, ditched
+indefinitely, perhaps forever. The cynical thought obtruded itself,
+grinning derisively; help was proffered so eagerly, because it could not
+be accepted.
+
+Satan had triumphed again.
+
+Uncle was nearly as much upset as the 'bus. The gallant fellow offered
+his services to his sister.
+
+"Look 'ee here, Susan. I be a man o' parts. 'Tis no trick for me to larn
+motor-drivin'. To use a figure o' speech, I be a born shover, clever, as
+you be, wi' my brain and my fingers. Such a thatcher as Habakkuk Mucklow
+be fit for anything. I feel it in me, dear, to command armies. Say the
+word, and I'll declare war wi' Saint Willum; I'll downscramble 'un in
+two jiffs."
+
+Mrs. Yellam thanked him, but the word was not said.
+
+She appeared to accept misfortune with grim resignation. Not even to
+Fancy dared she unveil her heart. Alone with Solomon, she permitted a
+few words to escape.
+
+"My faith, Solly, be on the wing again. Why should God Almighty raise
+His hand against an old 'ooman? He might ha' seen fit to cripple me wi'
+rheumatics. I could ha' borne that wi'out whimpering. But why do He
+exalt Willum Saint? That's what tears me, my dog."
+
+Solomon spared no effort of mind or body in the attempt to assure his
+mistress that these high matters were apprehended by all dumb animals.
+Conscious of failure, he became very dejected.
+
+A letter from Alfred heartened her a little.
+
+     "Dear Mother:" (he wrote) "I hope this finds you in the
+     pink, as it leaves me. Don't worry about the old 'bus! _I
+     don't, not a bit._ I have a notion that if you worry much
+     'twill be bad for Fancy and for Somebody Else, you know who
+     I mean. As for William Saint, I say this--take a squint at
+     his face! I wouldn't have his liver for the best carrying
+     business in the world. If you've set your dear heart on my
+     punching a rascal's head, I'll do it, so soon as I get back,
+     and make a job of it, too. Hard blows hurt them as get them;
+     hard thoughts hurt them as think them. I puzzled that out in
+     the trenches, where we be making very merry again. You'll
+     worry too about the loss of money. I say to that--_Napoo_!
+     That's French. I parleyvoo with the best of them, but when
+     it comes to buying stuff, they do me in a fair treat...."
+
+Mrs. Yellam read and re-read the letter. Fancy was at the Court when it
+came. Then she said to Solomon:
+
+"Wherever does that boy o' mine get his Christian principles? Not from
+me, Solly, not from me. Wag tail, little man, and I'll tell 'ee for why.
+Willum Saint, next Christmas, maybe, 'll take such a head to Salisbury
+as never was."
+
+Sol barked.
+
+Alfred's sentence about merry-making in the trenches provoked much
+thought. Mrs. Yellam had talked freely with scores of wounded Tommies.
+They came, they conquered all reserves, they went. Some actually
+complained that life in Nether-Applewhite seemed "dull" after the "fun"
+in the dug-outs. At first, she suspected "leg-pulling," but she limped
+to the slow conclusion that the high spirits of these gallant fellows
+came _from_ the trenches, and were not, as she had supposed at first, a
+natural result of finding themselves snug and safe after shell-fire.
+Possessing the qualities which distinguish a "tufting" hound--a good
+nose for a scent, staying powers, and tenacity in sticking to her
+quarry, Mrs. Yellam decided, ultimately, that millions of young men and
+women were living, like gnats, for the passing hour, buzzing gaily here
+and there, utterly regardless of past and future.
+
+Could she bring herself to so happy a condition of mind?
+
+"Take no thought for the morrow."
+
+That injunction couldn't be ignored. Nevertheless, she had ignored it
+all her life. Hence, from a material point of view, her sound economic
+condition. She was independent of the 'bus.
+
+Such thoughts were obsessing, also, the parson of the parish.
+
+Hamlin was quite as handicapped as Mrs. Yellam by principles adopted
+long ago which he deemed, before the war, to be bomb-proof. He had
+pinned his faith to the masses, dismissing the classes as effete and
+lapped in luxury and indifference. All workers appealed to him
+irresistibly; men and women of leisure rather exasperated him. He held
+with Matthew Arnold that conduct was three-fourths of life, whereas
+culture might or might not claim the odd quarter.
+
+The masses had disappointed him. The classes seemed to have justified
+their claim to superiority not in mere education but in a capacity and
+willingness to scrap self-interest which astounded him. He had expected,
+too, a tremendous upward movement from German Socialists. Indeed, he had
+regarded the Socialists of Europe as a band of brothers prepared to
+stand shoulder to shoulder against autocracy.
+
+And they had not done so.
+
+He could find for the masses, not at the front, all the excuses which
+fell so glibly from the lips of Democracy's champions. Strikers
+complained of lack of good faith on the part of the Government, of local
+injustices, of this and that, but the fact remained that self-interest
+swayed them, as it had swayed the privileged classes before the war. The
+tables seemed to be turned. Aristocracy, governed possibly by its fine
+motto, "_Noblesse oblige_," hurled self-interest to the void; Democracy
+picked it up and hugged it. Indisputable evidence exhibited Labour as
+rejoicing in an increased wage, and spending pounds a week upon
+luxuries, many actually praying that the war might continue, because
+they believed that the end of it would mean a return to dull, grinding
+pre-war conditions.
+
+And Hamlin admitted sorrowfully to himself that if the war did end
+suddenly, leaving Labour triumphant, insatiate for more and more wealth,
+and in a position to dictate terms to Capital, that the country would be
+plunged into abysmal depths, depths in which new tyrants would impose a
+new slavery without any of the restrictions which culture and tradition
+had prescribed upon the former autocrats and plutocrats.
+
+He envisaged England at the mercy of the mob!
+
+With pleasure and relief he turned from the Industrials to the Soldiers.
+What a fine spirit animated them! With Mrs. Yellam, he had arrived, by a
+different road, at the same conclusion.
+
+Our men of all ranks were facing unspeakable horrors with a laugh.
+
+How had it come to pass?
+
+According to Hamlin's teaching, a supreme Sacrifice, a Divine Atonement,
+had regenerated the pagan world. Did sacrifice make not only for
+regeneration but for joyousness? Lionel Pomfret, still on his crutches,
+was joyous. The Squire, after the sale of many heirlooms, was joyous. A
+finer humanity informed him, radiating from him.
+
+The Parson pondered these things in his heart. He might have found
+another object-lesson in William Saint. He was unmistakably prospering,
+making money hand over fist. But he was not joyous.
+
+Very reluctantly, Hamlin decided that the time for peace might be far
+distant, if the designs of Omnipotence were rightly apprehended by him.
+Armageddon would continue till pain had purged the whole world, till
+materialism in its hydraheaded forms was slain by spirituality, by a
+faith, simple as that preached by the Nazarene, which counted worldly
+gain as naught if such gain involved the loss of the soul.
+
+Faithful to his promise to Alfred, Hamlin kept a watchful eye on Mrs.
+Yellam. Her empty pew had affected him poignantly. He thought of empty
+pews throughout Europe. They stood mute witnesses against teachers and
+preachers, against creeds that crumbled when the cannon thundered. He
+respected this old woman for braving gossip by staying at home. She had
+moral courage, nearly as rare and even more precious than common-sense.
+But when she came back to her pew, when he heard her loud responses, he
+realised sadly that her son, not her God, had found this wandering sheep
+and led it back to the fold.
+
+At any moment the pew might be empty again.
+
+Next Sunday, he took for his text the verse out of the
+hundredth-and-sixth Psalm:
+
+"_And He gave them their desire; but withal He sent leanness into their
+soul._"
+
+No coincidence was involved in this choice of a text. Fancy Broomfield,
+before she married, had asked her master to explain "leanness of soul."
+He had said a few simple words. Afterwards, he jotted down some notes
+and put them away.
+
+He re-read these notes, thinking of William Saint, whose activities had
+not escaped his notice. But he wrote the sermon with a wider
+application. And although he had to bear in mind the limited
+intelligence of his congregation, what he set down constituted an
+indictment of a material, world-wide prosperity.
+
+Hamlin began by reminding his parishioners of what he had said in his
+sermon on patriotism: the soul in its essence was always right.
+
+"What there is of it," he added impressively. "Some souls are very
+lean."
+
+Jane Mucklow maintained afterwards that the Parson looked hard at Uncle.
+Uncle was equally positive that austere eyes dwelt on Jane. Mrs. Yellam
+sat bolt upright in her pew with Fancy beside her. William Saint assumed
+an air of detachment. He attended church once a week to curry favour
+with his Squire and landlord. He held Hamlin in some disdain, because so
+able a man had pushed himself no farther along preferment's highway than
+Nether-Applewhite. A man who had played cricket for the Gentlemen of
+England ought surely to be a dean at least, if he had any gumption in
+him.
+
+Hamlin repeated the text.
+
+"I want you to notice," he said, in his quiet voice, "that the word
+'soul' is used in the singular. God sent leanness into the soul of His
+people. Nations, therefore, like individuals, possess souls.
+
+"Has leanness entered into our national soul?
+
+"We have prospered exceedingly. We are even richer than our expert
+accountants deemed us to be. Some of you may have glanced casually at
+the stupendous figures which set forth the wealth and resources of the
+British Empire. We forget to consider how this vast wealth is piled up.
+It is not my purpose to consider that with you, to-day. But such
+consideration is the duty of those who are able to deal intelligently
+with these astounding figures.
+
+"We have been, in short, given our desire.
+
+"In the text you will note that God gave His people their desire; and
+then He sent leanness into their souls.
+
+"What was their desire? The Psalmist informs us in the context. God's
+Chosen People had wandered from Him. They had corrupted themselves, as
+we read in Exodus. I will cite one instance known to the youngest child
+here: they had set up and worshipped the calf of Horeb, the golden calf,
+which has stood forth ever since as the symbol of Mammon, the symbol of
+material prosperity. They wanted this golden calf, and God gave it to
+them. And then He sent leanness into their soul.
+
+"To many of us this text presents difficulties. Is it wrong for a nation
+to desire worldly prosperity? Is it wrong for an individual, for any one
+of us, to desire to better one's condition in life, to rise, as it is
+called, in the world? Most certainly not. Such a desire is firmly rooted
+in every healthy nation, in every healthy man and woman. It is basic,
+the mainspring of human endeavour and human advancement, rooted in
+nations and individuals by God.
+
+"The desire, then, in its simplest form, must be right. Its
+accomplishment may be utterly wrong.
+
+"Desires change their character during accomplishment. Thrift, for
+instance, may degenerate into parsimony; temperance, if uncontrolled,
+leads to intemperance; the noblest ambitions may become insensate;
+proper care of the body, which I have commended to you, may end in
+vanity; love, alas! is often deformed into lust. All that is obvious.
+Nobody here questions it.
+
+"Desires, then, face two ways. They may lead us to God or away from Him;
+they may enrich or impoverish the soul.
+
+"But why, you may ask, does God, as in the text, deliberately gratify
+soul-impoverishing desires in a nation, with the knowledge and therefore
+with the intention of making the soul of that nation lean?
+
+"The answer is plain. Nations, like individuals, exercise the privilege
+of free-will. The choice between good and evil is theirs, as it is mine,
+and yours.
+
+"How can we tell whether the soul of a nation be lean?
+
+"There is an infallible test, the same test which each of us must apply
+to ourselves. Never forget that what we think, we are. What we go on
+thinking, we become. By a nation's thoughts, by your own thoughts, the
+soul's stature may be measured. If the thoughts of a nation, if your own
+thoughts, dwell habitually upon self-advancement and self-indulgence, be
+sure that the soul is dwindling instead of expanding. If our thoughts,
+collectively or individually, are hard, jealous thoughts concerning
+other nations, the soul is growing lean. But when we think of others
+with love animating our thoughts, and if that love, in ever-widening
+circles, includes not only our friends but all, all who claim from us
+pity and consideration, then it is very well with the soul. It is
+expanding, and it is capable of an expansion so immense that, like Time
+and Space, no finite mind can measure it. Hate impoverishes souls and
+bodies. A man under the influence of violent passion is physically the
+worse. Any doctor will tell you that. A nation convulsed by hate is
+physically weaker. Violence is not strength. It may appear to be so for
+a brief time. In a stand-up fight, between two men, the man who loses
+his temper is likely to lose the victory. At this moment, a gospel of
+hate is convulsing our enemies. We may, and must, hate what they have
+done, the atrocious crimes perpetrated by and for Authority, but let us
+beware of hating, as they hate, because such rancour eats away the soul.
+Let us remember Who said: 'God forgive them, for they know not what they
+do!'
+
+"Let us consider more attentively the desires of a nation and their
+direction--upward or downward. I repeat emphatically that the desires of
+a nation are the desires of the individual immeasurably multiplied.
+
+"And, first, I should like to suggest to you that desires concerned with
+material ends, such as money, or any other worldly ambition, are
+generally gratified, provided we work for them hard enough.
+
+"When are desires soul-impoverishing? How can we tell when a nation or
+an individual, after rising steadily upward, reaches a point from which
+they and he, as steadily, descend?
+
+"The answer may be found in the Book of Micah: 'He hath shewed thee, O
+man, what is good, and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do
+justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?'
+
+"In itself a nation can achieve much, so can an individual; but if
+self-advancement, in any form, whether modest or far-reaching, relies
+upon itself and takes to itself the credit and glory, then we are not
+walking humbly with God, but speeding from Him along a road that may
+lead to success, as the world interprets success, but which leads, also,
+to disappointment, disillusionment, and often at the last--despair.
+
+"The great conquerors of history have not been happy men.
+
+"Everything that is done vaingloriously turns to ashes. From that sad
+thought we may take this much consolation. Ashes, as you farmers know,
+are great fertilisers. I know of no greater proof of God's wisdom and
+mercy than this: the ashes of our failures do, so I believe, cause good
+to bloom out of evil.
+
+"If it be true that leanness has been sent into the soul of this nation,
+if we have not walked humbly with God, what can be done? The answer is
+to be found not only in the Bible, but in every chapter of the world's
+history. We must make atonement by sacrifice."
+
+He paused, and many remembered that pause afterwards. The preacher stood
+erect, but his eyes were not on the congregation. They looked out
+dreamily into a world in anguish. Tears trickled down Fancy's cheeks.
+With her quick sensibilities, she divined that the Parson's thoughts had
+flown to France, where his Benjamin was fighting, not in hate, none who
+knew the boy could believe that, but inspired by the faith that a
+selfless Cause would triumph. Instantly, her own thoughts flew to
+Alfred. If--if sacrifice were demanded of her--? She looked up. Some
+intuition told her that Hamlin was ready for any sacrifice. His face
+appeared calm. But she became aware of tension, as if a far-seeing man
+were braced against impending calamity. She recalled stories current in
+the village after the _Lusitania_ was torpedoed: stories of men who had
+confronted death without a tremor. Surely, at such a moment God stood
+with them.
+
+Would He stand with her, if Alfred did not come back?
+
+She stole a glance at Mrs. Yellam.
+
+Her face remained impassive. But again intuition told Fancy that this
+outward calmness masked bitter trouble and perplexity. Timidly she
+slipped her hand into the hand of the old woman, pressing it gently. The
+pressure was not returned, because, perhaps, it may not have been felt.
+Mrs. Yellam, Fancy perceived, was staring at a mural tablet to the right
+of the pulpit, new and shining brass upon which were inscribed the names
+of two nephews of Captain Davenant. He had read the Lessons, as usual,
+but in a less rasping voice, so she had thought. She heard Hamlin's
+quiet tones:
+
+"Let us prepare ourselves for greater sacrifices."
+
+The rest of the sermon was devoted to particular rather than general
+ends. The Parson appealed, as was his wont, to the children, and the
+younger members of the congregation, the twigs waiting to be inclined.
+And to these his appeal was persuasive and suggestive, never didactic or
+minatory. He shone best when conducting a children's service, when he
+walked amongst them using the simplest words.
+
+Perhaps he knew that the middle-aged and old could be touched to finer
+issues indirectly. In every heart, however worn and tired, there lingers
+a subtle fragrance of youth which thought of youth releases. The sad
+fact that many of the elder people were mourning may have tempered what
+speech he addressed to them, and many of them were aware of this,
+shifting uneasily in their pews as they remembered similar words spoken
+in the same place by the same man twenty years back.
+
+Once more, Mrs. Yellam walked home in silence. Fancy, engrossed by her
+own thoughts, did not speak till they entered the cottage. Then she
+said, hesitatingly:
+
+"'Tis strange. We talked of lean souls the first day Alfie brought me to
+see you."
+
+"Ay--so we did."
+
+"And afterwards I asked Mr. Hamlin to tell me what 'lean souls' meant."
+
+"Did 'ee? He never looked once at me this marning."
+
+"Why should he?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam answered heavily:
+
+"I dunno. But I'd a notion that he had me in mind. 'Twas a notable
+sermon, but----"
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"He ain't been tried as I have."
+
+She went upstairs slowly to take off her bonnet and shawl.
+
+Upon the following Wednesday, the sermon assumed a fresh importance and
+significance.
+
+Edward Hamlin was killed in action.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+SAINT WILLUM
+
+
+It was a blow over the heart to Nether-Applewhite. Master Teddy, as
+everybody called him, had grown to man's estate amongst the villagers,
+but he was remembered as a boy, full of pranks, a bit of a scapegrace,
+with a smile that Uncle affirmed to be "so good as sixpence." Uncle
+assumed a band of crepe, and said to Susan Yellam:
+
+"Master Teddy be taken, and us useless old sticks be left. I taught 'un
+to set night lines. He'd a tang o' the poacher, he had, but allers ready
+to give away what trout he catched out o' old Captain's water. Bold as
+brass, too, wi' rich or poor. And a good fighter. He fit 'No Account
+Harry' back o' village pound, and licked 'un, too, a boy bigger'n
+older'n he. A pleasant word for all, and fair bustin' wi' fun and
+kindness. I tell 'ee this, I be so sorrowful as if I'd lost a son, but
+there's rejoicing where he be gone. I can see Saint Peter a-openin' wide
+the gate to let 'un in."
+
+Greater orators have declaimed less sincere funeral orations.
+
+Mrs. Yellam said little. Her troubled face made Fancy unhappy. But when
+she spoke of Edward Hamlin, Mrs. Yellam cut her short:
+
+"He be gone. It don't bear speaking of. Why should such as he be
+sacrificed to atone for our sins?"
+
+"If God gave His Only Son----!"
+
+"Ah-h-h! That be it. _If...._"
+
+"Mother!"
+
+"You be shocked, and no wonder. But unless I speaks what I feels to 'ee,
+I must hold my tongue. And more decent, too. I be mazed beyond words. I
+be losing my grip o' this world and the next."
+
+Fancy met Hamlin two days afterwards as she was leaving Pomfret Court.
+She quickened her step, but he stopped still. She said simply:
+
+"I be so grieved about Mr. Edward. He was so full of life."
+
+Hamlin took her hand.
+
+"Thank you. The sympathy of all of you is much to me, more than you
+think." He paused adding slowly: "He may be fuller of life, Fancy, where
+he is now."
+
+She went her way, strangely comforted. Her time was approaching. Soon
+she must remain at home, awaiting her ordeal. She confronted that with
+the courage which is so often the attribute of physically frail women.
+The month before the wonderful event would be happily occupied in making
+the _layette_ or such of it as Mrs. Yellam couldn't provide; and Fancy
+had in mind the lining and trimming of a baby-basket fit for a tiny
+prince. She intended to embroider a broad blue riband with this legend:
+"To my little son." She made absolutely certain that the child would be
+a son. Already she had envisaged his life from the cradle to the grave.
+She wouldn't allow him to play too rough games, but he must be a _Man_;
+she shrank from what he would have to go through before he attained his
+sire's stature; she rehearsed a prayer suitable for babbling lips; she
+arrayed him in knickerbockers and despatched him to school, with many
+injunctions not to play truant, or pull the hair of small girls, or be
+pert to his teacher. Of course, he would be just such a son to her as
+Alfred was to his mother. She went so far in mental vagabondage as to
+choose a wife for him, a very practical young woman with a reassuring
+physique, quite unlike herself. Being his father's son, every inch of
+him, it was certain that he would have "affairs" with other young women
+before he chose the "One and Only." Fancy meant to deal faithfully with
+such flirtations. One of them would nearly capture the youth. He would
+be saved from a too audacious baggage by his mother! She hoped that he
+would not be too good, but full of fun, like Mr. Edward. He would be a
+carrier, because all wars would be over and done with after this war.
+
+These were her day-dreams.
+
+At night, she was not so happy. At night she thought much of Mrs.
+Yellam. That troubled face formed itself in the dark, mutely entreating
+comfort and counsel which Fancy could not evoke out of her eagerness to
+help a sorely-stricken creature.
+
+Why did Mrs. Yellam borrow trouble?
+
+Why did she believe that God had forsaken her? What a terrible notion
+this of Satan supreme and triumphant in Nether-Applewhite! But she had
+faith in God's mercy. He would lift this black cloud from a poor old
+woman's heart.
+
+About two weeks after Edward Hamlin's death, unexpected balm, very
+precious spikenard, was poured upon Mrs. Yellam's lacerated feelings.
+William Saint had got his desire and leanness of soul withal. Alfred's
+good business was his. When he drove past the Yellam cottage, Mrs.
+Yellam turned her face from the window, if she happened to be there. She
+told Uncle that she discerned a mocking smile, a contemptuous upper lip,
+upon that hard, yellow face. Uncle nodded, saying nothing. But leaving
+his sister's house, he laid a couple of fingers upon his biceps as he
+contracted the muscles of it. He smiled genially. His biceps still
+swelled hard and big as a cricket ball. And only the day before he had
+been out running with the hounds. William Saint did not run. He walked
+to his objectives, the sort of tortoise, Uncle reflected, who wins
+prizes from the more nimble hare.
+
+He was so pleasant with Jane that she suspected a frontal attack upon
+her money-box. Uncle, however, impetrated no loan. Later in the
+afternoon, when she went to the fowl-house to collect eggs, she
+surprised her lord and master, with his coat off, vigorously punching a
+sack of bran in the shed that adjoined the chicken-run.
+
+"Whatever be you doing?" she asked.
+
+Uncle grinned.
+
+"I be working off some ale, Jane. So thin stuff it be that I wants to
+get rid of it quick."
+
+"I thought you was gone mad."
+
+"Ah-h-h! Others may think that afore we be much older."
+
+To her further amazement, Uncle remained at home that evening instead of
+going to the _Sir John Barleycorn_. She wondered if he were sickening
+for an illness. Possibly, the Parson's sermon on lean souls had affected
+him. Presently Uncle's earnest words lent colour to this possibility. He
+observed didactically:
+
+"Hate be bad for the body. Parson got that notion from me. A man as
+hates his feller-men, and lies awake nights plottin' and plannin' evil,
+bain't never a fighter."
+
+"How about they Proosians?"
+
+Uncle riposted gaily:
+
+"I hain't one to misparage the enemy, but from what I hears, and you
+knows I hears more than most, they Proosians fights wi' wallopin' big
+guns, not wi' fisteses."
+
+"Who's talking o' fisteses?"
+
+"I be. I reckons as a man past sixty might well stand up to a Proosian
+not more'n thirty."
+
+"You ain't never thinking of enlisting, Habakkuk?"
+
+"No, no. I couldn't leave 'ee, Jane."
+
+"You takes keer o' yourself for my sake. I knows that. What be you
+thinking of?"
+
+"You'll know soon enough, old girl. I minds that time when I bruised
+meself so bad slidin' off a slippery roof bang on to a stone wall. You
+rubbed in some wonnerful stuff. Any of it left?"
+
+"Lard help us! I knew you'd miss your ale. You bain't never thinking o'
+drinking Helliman's Embrocation?"
+
+"Not yet. Have you the bottle handy?"
+
+Jane nodded; Uncle relapsed into silence, broken by rumblings and
+chucklings. He went to bed early and slept soundly.
+
+Next afternoon, at four, he entered the sanded bar of Saint's tavern.
+Saint drove his 'bus to Salisbury upon alternate days. He had a man to
+take his place upon the other days when business kept him at home.
+Behind the bar stood a fresh-coloured young woman, quick of tongue and
+hand, floridly good-looking, with very alert eyes. Gossip affirmed that
+she was secretly engaged to Saint. Jane Mucklow remarked that the hussy
+ought to be, if she wasn't. Uncle greeted her pleasantly, nodded to
+those present, called for a tankard of ale, and enquired tenderly after
+Saint Willum. The young woman frowned. Then she said sharply:
+
+"I've a mind to tell you something."
+
+The company present pricked ears. Uncle smiled, drawing himself up,
+inflating his chest, quite ready for a preliminary spar.
+
+"You tell it, my girl. 'Tis crool to think o' what wimmen-folk suffer
+from allers holding their tongues."
+
+"Your tongue is too sharp. Mr. Saint is civil to you. Be civil to him.
+That's all."
+
+She drew his ale, and handed it to him.
+
+Uncle looked at her with twinkling eyes. She was making things easy for
+him, and he felt quite grateful to her. She had fired the first shot.
+This might or might not be used as a _casus belli_. He said, meaningly:
+
+"Be that advice or a warning like?"
+
+"Take it as both, Mr. Mucklow."
+
+"I will. Now, tell me this, my girl; be you speaking for yourself, or
+for your master? If you be speaking for yourself, I be minded to tell
+'ee that you be paid to serve customers, and not to improve their
+manners. If you be speaking for Willum Saint, I thanks you very kindly
+and passes no more remarks."
+
+This, it will be admitted, was a crafty speech on Uncle's part, and
+pleased him mightily. The girl was sure to resent a rebuke before
+others, and already the gaffers were grinning at her. If she shifted
+responsibility to Saint Willum, a _casus belli_ had been established.
+The young woman lacked Uncle's _finesse_. She answered sullenly:
+
+"I spoke up for Mr. Saint, because he's not here to speak for himself."
+
+Uncle felt that this was not satisfactory enough, although promising.
+
+"You means," he said incisively, "that you speaks words which your
+master bain't man enough to speak for hisself, either to my face or
+behind me back?"
+
+The derisive intonation placed upon "master" brought a flush to the
+girl's cheek. Her eyes sparkled. And she believed Saint to be a man.
+
+"If you want it straight," she retorted, "the words I used have been
+spoken by Mr. Saint and others."
+
+"Thank 'ee," said Uncle, lifting his tankard. "I drinks to your good
+health, miss. Cheer oh! as our dear lads say."
+
+He buried his nose in the tankard. But he drank little in it, carrying
+it to the stout oak table near the fire. The gaffers testified
+afterwards, that Uncle's talk, before Saint came in, was even more
+genial and easy than usual. And Saint's face, when he appeared, was in
+marked contrast to Uncle's rubicund cheerful countenance. Obviously
+Saint was out of temper. He had been cited to appear before the local
+tribunal again, and exemption might not be granted twice. "Comb-out"
+articles were appearing in the daily press. And Saint, who tapped
+private sources of information, was well aware that Captain Davenant,
+Chairman of the Board, had expressed a strong opinion that Saint, a
+Class A fellow, b'George! ought to be kicked into the ranks. Saint had
+just begun to realise, also, that he was hoist with his own petard.
+Alfred Yellam, as carrier, set a precedent, shewing that carriers could
+find less able-bodied men to transact necessary local business.
+
+Uncle looked hard at him.
+
+"What's wrong, Saint Willum?" he asked, in the drawling tone that always
+provoked a cackle from the gaffers.
+
+Saint looked hard at Uncle. He had good reason for knowing that Uncle
+saw eye to eye with the Captain. Before entering the bar, the landlord
+of the _Sir John Barleycorn_ had drunk some whisky from a bottle which
+he kept locked up in his bedroom. In a word, he was ripe for a quarrel.
+
+"What's wrong?" he repeated viciously. "You are. I'm fed up with your
+insolence. You take yourself off to the _Pomfret Arms_. The landlord
+there may want your money and your sauce. I've had enough of both."
+
+The young woman smiled. If, as she expected, and not without good
+reason, William Saint became her husband, he might turn out, with
+discreet handling, a docile helpmeet. Within twenty-four hours, she had
+urged him to "out" Habakkuk Mucklow at the first opportunity. Saint had
+hesitated, observing angrily that he detested Uncle, and would gladly
+attend his funeral. At the same time, the man brought custom to the
+tavern. If he left it, some of his cronies might leave with him.
+Whereupon the young woman remarked scornfully: "If you can stick it,
+I've nothing more to say." And then she had eyed him slowly from heel to
+head, as if taking stock of an animal not quite sound. Saint knew that
+his manhood had been challenged by a woman who was becoming
+indispensable to him.
+
+Uncle rose, tankard in hand. His smile was so disarming that Saint,
+probably, believed him to be harmless. Accordingly he scowled the more
+fiercely as Uncle slowly approached him. An expert of the prize ring,
+comparing the two men physically, would have said, off-hand, that age
+could never fight youth on equal terms. Saint was stoutly built, heavy
+in the shoulder, with good underpinning. He may have lacked two inches
+of Uncle's height.
+
+Uncle feigned nervousness, luring Saint on. Had the landlord been
+perfectly sober, he might have suspected guile. Whisky had inflamed his
+mind and paralysed his judgment.
+
+"Don't 'ee talk that way, Mr. Saint. I be old enough to be your father.
+And not the man I was."
+
+Saint exploded.
+
+"If you don't walk out, I'll kick you out."
+
+Uncle almost cooed at him.
+
+"What brave words to an old gaffer past sixty! And before ladies, too."
+
+The sly emphasis on "ladies" provoked a titter from a granfer warmed by
+hot ale.
+
+Saint sprang to the attack. Now, Uncle, the sly old campaigner, had
+foreseen this opening. He knew well enough the advantage of a first
+blow. He knew, also, that Saint, out of condition as he was, might end a
+fight at close quarters in thirty seconds. Within one minute, so Uncle
+reckoned, Saint would have lost fifty per cent of energy and endurance.
+With a gay laugh he dashed the ale he had so valiantly refrained from
+drinking in Saint's face.
+
+"That'll cool 'ee," said Uncle, as he side-stepped as gracefully as a
+dancing-master.
+
+Saint was half-blinded, but now well aware that Uncle meant business. He
+must "finish" him at once, inflict a "knock-out" blow. He charged again,
+head down, like an infuriated bull. Sober reflection might have warned
+him that Uncle's arms were longer than his. Uncle raised the tankard and
+brought it down hard upon a thick skull. Saint fell to the floor,
+stunned. The young woman screamed out:
+
+"You've killed him!"
+
+Uncle laughed pleasantly:
+
+"Not me. I only tapped 'un. Don't 'ee be afeard, my dear. He'll live to
+make 'ee miserable. I hopes as I ain't hurt this handsome tankard." He
+examined it. "No. 'Tis ale-tight yet. I sees a dent though. 'Twill
+serve, like rosemary, for remembrance. Ah-h-h! He be comin' to."
+
+Saint raised his head, but remained huddled up on the sanded floor,
+rubbing his head and staring at the grinning faces about him. Uncle
+addressed him with courtesy.
+
+"Willum Saint, I be a marciful man. There be many here as could testify
+and swear by the Book as you assaulted and batteried me, but I won't
+have the law on 'ee. More, never again will I call 'ee Saint Willum. For
+why?--your immortial soul be too lean. I means to call 'ee, after this
+memorable day, Mr. Sinner. And now, Mr. Sinner, I takes myself off to
+the _Pomfret Arms_, and my friends go wi' me."
+
+Three out of the five other men rose solemnly, and called for their
+reckoning. The two that remained might have done so had they possessed
+cash in their pockets.
+
+Uncle took off his hat to the young woman, and bowed politely:
+
+"Good-bye, miss. If he become too rampagious, do 'ee whisper 'tankard'
+to 'un."
+
+Uncle did not walk straight to the _Pomfret Arms_; he fetched a compass,
+calling upon Mrs. Yellam. He told his tale without embellishment. Susan
+threw back her head and laughed. Then she kissed her brother.
+
+"Habakkuk," she said solemnly, "'twas a gert victory for you, _and for
+me_, over Satan."
+
+Next day, by the luck of things, Saint met Uncle face to face in the
+village street.
+
+"You downed me last night, because I wasn't sober."
+
+"Drunk _and_ disorderly!" exclaimed Uncle, raising his voice so that
+others might hear. "What would Squire say, if so be as you came afore
+the Bench?"
+
+Saint was perfectly sober and smugly self-possessed.
+
+"You couldn't down me this morning."
+
+"I be willing to try," said Uncle, perceiving that he had room for
+side-stepping. "You takes your coat off and I takes off mine, and we
+goes at it, here and now, slam-bang."
+
+Saint declined this cordial invitation. He scowled at Uncle, and went
+his way.
+
+Next Sunday Mrs. Yellam's responses were half a second ahead of the
+congregation. On the Saturday Fancy had received a long letter from
+Alfred. He was out of the danger zone again, and in a rest camp with his
+men, who "groused" at "fatigues" imposed upon them unreasonably. Alfred
+reported himself sound of left arm, and, as usual, "in the pink."
+William Saint did not attend Divine Service, thinking, possibly, that a
+large strip of plaster across his head might distract the attention of
+the congregation. In this he was needlessly thoughtful, inasmuch as
+everybody in the parish knew what had happened in the sanded tap-room,
+and acclaimed Uncle as the true sire of a valorous son. Uncle sat in his
+pew, as upright as Mrs. Yellam, inviting inspection with an upward cock
+of one eyebrow, as much as to say:
+
+"Look at me, neighbours. Not a mark on me!"
+
+You may be sure that the Squire had the epic pat from the lips of
+Captain Davenant, to whom Uncle had recited it when shooting in the New
+Forest. More, the Captain made it clear to the Autocrat how insidiously
+Alfred Yellam had been undermined by "Mr. Sinner." Finally, it was
+decided between them that William Saint would serve his country to
+better advantage away from Nether-Applewhite, and the Squire, gravely
+affected by Susan Yellam's troubles, swore that he would personally see
+to it that Alfred's carrying business should be resurrected. On Monday
+morning, Mrs. Yellam, upon arrival at the Court, was informed that Sir
+Geoffrey wished to see her in his room. For a terrible moment, she
+feared that the Squire might be about to break bad news of Alfred. A
+glance at his jolly face reassured her.
+
+"Sit you down, Susan. Make yourself comfortable. What about a glass of
+port?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam associated port with funerals. She declined any liquid
+refreshment, very politely. The Squire stood upon the hearth-rug,
+beneath the portrait of his father, and thrust his hands in his
+breeches' pockets.
+
+"Now, Susan, where is Alfred's 'bus?"
+
+"In Salisbury, Sir Geoffrey."
+
+"Out of dry dock? Ready for the road--um?"
+
+"I believe so, Sir Geoffrey, but Willum Saint has the business; and I
+don't know where to turn for a man."
+
+"That's going to be my affair. I should have made it my affair, if you
+had come to me without my sending for you. Alfred has been treated
+abominably. All the facts never reached my ears till yesterday, when I
+heard about Uncle and the tankard."
+
+He laughed, and Susan laughed with him. The Squire waxed confidential.
+
+"Just between us, let it go no further, William Saint will be called
+up."
+
+"The Lard be praised! This be heartsome news, Sir Geoffrey. If you gets
+me a man, trade'll come back."
+
+"You rest easy. I repeat, all this is my affair. I'm still Squire of
+Nether-Applewhite. Have you seen my grandson lately?"
+
+"No, Sir Geoffrey."
+
+"You come along with me to the nursery, and we'll have a squint at him.
+He's a whopper."
+
+And thus the sun shone bright once more in Mrs. Yellam's heaven. The
+Squire proved even better than his word. What he said in private to
+William Saint was never known. Sir Geoffrey found, for Mrs. Yellam, a
+reliable driver, an ex-soldier discharged from the army but not
+disabled, with a merry eye and a persuasive tongue. Saint's 'bus went to
+the station, as before, not to Salisbury.
+
+You may think of this time as the St. Martin's Summer of Mrs. Yellam's
+life. The dull November days drifted by, bringing with them mist and
+rain and wind; the trees were stripped of their leaves; Nature sang her
+requiem for the dying year; but Pentecostal joys filled Mrs. Yellam's
+heart.
+
+And this Feast of Rejoicing affected Fancy and her child. The Yellam
+cottage became a heat-centre. From it radiated warming beams. Susan, at
+work in her kitchen, could hear Fancy's clear voice singing "Abide with
+Me."
+
+     Hold Thou Thy Cross before my closing eyes;
+     Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies:
+     Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
+     In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me!
+
+If it were only so, reflected Mrs. Yellam, how rich and happy life would
+be, with all its ups and downs. She remained obstinately convinced that
+she wanted the Lord to abide with her. It was He Who left her so
+mysteriously. And then, of course, Satan took the vacant place. She
+examined herself rigorously. She dealt justly with her neighbours; she
+loved mercy; she read her Bible each day. What more could she do? Really
+and truly, she demanded so little of Omnipotence--not wealth, not even
+health, for, at her age, she must expect aches and pains; just peace,
+only that, and Alfred.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+FOOL-WISDOM
+
+
+Fancy's approaching confinement aroused no apprehensions in the mind of
+Mrs. Yellam. She took it for granted that nothing untoward would happen.
+Probably, the doctor in attendance would make things appear more serious
+than they were. Deep down in her heart lay the conviction that doctors,
+in their own interests, pursed up lips and bent frowning brows over
+sick-beds, because when their patients pulled through the greater credit
+attached itself to them. Her own confinements had been reasonably easy,
+so she told Fancy.
+
+Both women wondered whether Alfred would get his Christmas leave and his
+Christmas present at the same time. That double event, however, lay upon
+the knees of the gods.
+
+Leave or no leave, Mrs. Yellam told herself that Alfred was safe till
+the Spring. Why this conviction came to her she did not explain. Had you
+asked her, she would have replied, probably, that the wounded boys at
+the Court affirmed nothing to be doing in mid-winter. The sight of
+William Saint in khaki nearly made her break into song. The banns of his
+approaching marriage to the young person behind the bar were called in
+Nether-Applewhite Church, none too soon, according to Jane Mucklow.
+Uncle was heard to whisper, "And sarve 'un right!" by neighbours in
+adjoining pews. He assured his cronies that Mr. Sinner's punishment was
+to come. Susan rejoiced, also, in the notable fact that
+Nether-Applewhite harboured no conscientious objectors. Ocknell, the
+next parish, was not so fortunate.
+
+In fine, the first half of December glided by swiftly and pleasantly.
+Alfred's business became firmly re-established, and, with Saint no
+longer competing, more remunerative than ever. Mrs. Yellam said to
+Fancy:
+
+"Your child, seemin'ly, may be rich."
+
+She refused to speak of the child as a son. But Fancy's conviction about
+that remained impregnable.
+
+"I ought to know, Mother."
+
+"Maybe. But you don't. Nobody knows."
+
+"Alfred wants him to be a girl."
+
+"Do he? I wonders why."
+
+"He said a little maid would traipse so nicely after you. I promised him
+to call her Lizzie. She'll be the next."
+
+"Lizzie! Ah-h-h! Alferd be a good son. Fancy his thinkin' o' that.
+Lizzie----!"
+
+She spoke the name almost under her breath. A moment later, she removed
+her spectacles, and wiped them. The two women were sitting in the
+kitchen by the hearth, after supper. A basket held the logs. The cradle
+was upstairs in Mrs. Yellam's room. In that room, despite Fancy's
+protests, Alfred's child would be born. In that room Susan Yellam's
+first baby had wailed his regret at finding himself in a wicked world.
+In that room her husband had died. Everything lay ready to hand; the
+monthly nurse lived only a quarter of a mile away; the doctor had been
+advised that he might be wanted at any minute.
+
+Fancy loved to sit over the fire, listening to the wind talking to the
+chimney, telling that stay-at-home the tale of many wanderings. She
+liked to make-believe that the winds were real persons, although she had
+never heard of Aeolus and his rebellious prisoners. She hated to pick
+flowers because they must feel so unhappy out of their own garden. Of
+course, they died of loneliness in mid-Victorian vases. She held
+inviolate her faith in fairies, beneficent and malevolent. She assured
+Mrs. Yellam that Solomon could see pixies dancing in their rings. How
+else could you account for his stopping in the middle of a field and
+barking?
+
+Of her mother and the four Evangelists she said nothing.
+
+Uncle and she became great friends.
+
+Three days out of the week (as has been mentioned), from October to the
+end of January, Uncle served as "beater" to Captain Davenant, when that
+veteran went shooting in the New Forest. Returning home, about five,
+Uncle liked to wander into Mrs. Yellam's cottage and drink a cup of tea
+instead of marching up to the _Pomfret Arms_, where his supremacy as a
+talker and man of the world might be disputed by certain bagmen in that
+inn, which prided itself upon being "more class" than the _Sir John
+Barleycorn_. Fancy paid homage to Uncle, as the favourite brother of
+Mrs. Yellam, ministering to his love of creature comforts, making hot
+buttered toast and putting cream into his tea, which he never got at
+home. Whenever Jane happened to be "miffed" her husband tactically
+retreated to what he now termed "Fancy's rest camp." He found her alone
+there, because Mrs. Yellam was now on duty at Pomfret Court from two
+till seven. Fancy and Uncle would sit by the fire and talk.
+
+Between Uncle's house and the Yellam cottage stood a clump of firs, near
+the river. Each year, during the annual migration, ospreys, probably
+southward bound from Scotland, would roost for one night only in these
+firs. Uncle had watched them many a time. They would circle three times
+round the firs and then alight upon them. Always the young birds, that
+year's nestlings, would come first. The parent birds followed, perhaps
+two days later. The sense of direction, the triple circling round the
+same trees, on the part of young birds, who preceded their parents,
+filled Fancy with astonishment. Being urban, she delighted in Uncle's
+Arcadian lore. She asked him to explain this amazing performance.
+
+"Birds be wiser than we, my girl."
+
+Alfred had made the same remark about water-rats.
+
+"How do they find their way, Uncle?"
+
+"Ah-h-h! How does a young hound find his way back to kennels, when he be
+taken to a distant meet by train, to new country never seen afore? You
+answer me that."
+
+"I can't. Can you?"
+
+"I thinks I can. 'Tis fool-wisdom. Wimmenfolk has it, because they be
+nearer to the animals than we men."
+
+Fancy wondered whether this was to be taken as a compliment. Uncle
+continued:
+
+"Fool-wisdom comes from God A'mighty. We be told that He don't forget
+one sparrer. I never liked sparrers too well, because they interferes
+crool wi' the house-martins, pore lil' dears. Yas--God A'mighty guides
+they young ospreys. I've a notion that He'd guide us if so be as we
+weren't so set on guiding ourselves. That be the main trouble wi' my
+dear sister."
+
+Fancy opened her eyes wide.
+
+"What are you saying, Uncle?"
+
+"I be fool-wise, my girl. I sees that you be mazed. Fool-wisdom be what
+we read on in the Holy Book, the sart that God A'mighty gives to babes
+and sucklings. My dear sister be full o' man's wisdom, just so clever as
+a man can be. She takes credit to herself for every big onion in her
+garden."
+
+Fancy said slily:
+
+"But, Uncle, you took credit for George getting the Victoria Cross."
+
+"So I did. A sharp 'un you be, for sartain. 'Tis true. Where would pore
+Garge be if I hadn't begotten 'un? And 'twas my brave will as sent 'un
+to Salisbury to enlist. But I gives the Lard the credit for pickin' such
+a man as I be for Garge's father. And Garge's valorous deed was a
+marvellous miracle upsides wi' they young ospreys findin' their way to
+our clump o' firs."
+
+"You ought to be a preacher, Uncle."
+
+"Ah-h-h! 'Tis easy for me to preach, allers was; but practisin' be the
+devil. Me and Pa'son be o' the same mind about that. But how I be
+wanderin' from my text! We was talkin' of fool-wisdom and your dear
+mother-in-law."
+
+"She's my mother now."
+
+"Ay. And I bain't fit to black her boots when it comes to practisin'. I
+knows that. But she ain't got fool-wisdom, as I calls it."
+
+Fancy considered this attentively. Uncle puffed at his pipe, glancing at
+Fancy's pensive face. He saw that he had puzzled her, and pulled himself
+together for another effort.
+
+"'Tis like this. Susan be proud because she thinks as she walks wi' God
+A'mighty. She takes credit for that, pore soul! Now, I be proud and so
+humble as a bee when the Lard sees fit to walk wi' me. That be my
+fool-wisdom, Fancy."
+
+"I see."
+
+And she did. Uncle's naive remarks were illuminating. She
+could look back, by the light of fool-wisdom, and sort out
+innumerable, half-forgotten trifles, unconsidered at the time, which
+corroborated, almost disconcertingly, this--what could she call it?
+Yes--vaingloriousness on the part of Mrs. Yellam. Another word, in
+every-day use amongst the "boys," bustled into her mind--"swank." She
+smiled. It seemed a wicked word to apply to such a majestic woman, and
+yet it was just right. Mrs. Yellam did "swank" whenever she talked of
+herself or Alfred. She had won first prize for the best village garden
+at the annual Flower Show, discontinued since the outbreak of war,
+because, so she told Fancy, she tended her vegetables herself. Alfred's
+robust health, his sobriety, his capacity for steady work, his
+churchgoing, his pleasant manners with neighbours--all these were
+feathers in Mrs. Yellam's cap, placed there by herself! She was set on
+guiding herself and others, admittedly a leader. Uncle was right. His
+dear sister did not walk humbly with the Lord. Hamlin's sermon had not
+been forgotten by Fancy. His son's death had made it an imperishable
+memory. And Mrs. Yellam, it will be recalled, had shrewdly suspected
+that the Parson had aimed a shaft or two at her. Had he? Could it be
+possible that this wonderful old woman's soul was lean? Naturally Fancy
+shrank from such a conclusion.
+
+To lighten her mind, and with the intention of extracting more
+fool-wisdom from Uncle, she said mischievously:
+
+"Uncle----?"
+
+"Yas, my dear----?"
+
+"What takes a man to the ale-house? Fool-wisdom?"
+
+Uncle threw back his handsome head and roared with laughter. But
+fool-wisdom told him that this was the right way to tackle a backslider.
+What a pity that Jane disdained indirect methods! He shook a long
+forefinger in a smiling face.
+
+"You lil' besom----! Now, if Alferd ever takes a notion to drink more
+ale than be strictly needful to slake a pleasant thirst, you poke just
+such fun at 'un, and smile at 'un, as you be smilin' at an old sinner
+this minute. My wife be a good, faithful 'ooman, but vartue wi' her be
+turned sourish, like that there clarety wine, the only liquor as never
+did lie easy on my good stomach. Maybe I married her latish in life. And
+cooks, from stewin' over fire, do seem to overbake their livers and
+lights. Anyways, hard looks drive a man to ale-house; smiles keep 'un at
+home. I admits to you, Fancy, but never a word to Jane, mind 'ee, that
+ale be my weakness. 'Twould be blasphemious to say that the Lard ever
+walked wi' me _to_ an ale-house, except on one very notable occasion,
+but 'tis a fact that in His Marcy He have walked wi' me _from_ the _Sir
+John Barleycorn_. And now you has it."
+
+"Tell me about the notable exception."
+
+"Ah-h-h! You knows. The Lard walked wi' me when I downscrambled Willum
+Saint. I gives He the credit. He put the notion into my head o' flingin'
+Willum's ale into Willum's face, and bashin' 'un wi' his own tankard. I
+tell 'ee that notion come to me bang from Kingdom Come. My own notion
+was different. I calkilated on a stand-up fight. Willum might ha' downed
+me, being so young and strong a man. And I tells 'ee more, a lil'
+secret, seein' as you has the trick o' squeezin' secrets out o' sinners:
+the Lard walks wi' me when I comes here to see you. And I be drinkin'
+less ale in consekence."
+
+With that he kissed Fancy and took his leave.
+
+Solomon jumped into the warm, cushioned arm-chair. But, instead of
+curling himself up, he walked three times round the chair, and then sat
+up, with his head on one side glancing interrogatively at Fancy, as much
+as to say:
+
+"If you want fool-wisdom, why not tap it at its source?"
+
+Fancy eyed him reflectively. All day, the dog had behaved strangely. He
+never left Fancy for a moment. But, till now, he had seemed disinclined
+for conversation. And he had hardly touched his dinner. Again and again
+he had walked round the kitchen, whining a little. Fancy, supposing that
+he wished to go outside, had opened the door, but he remained with her,
+staring up at her, as if he had some message to deliver. Finally, she
+jumped to the conclusion that the dog must be feeling unwell, or,
+possibly, cats lay heavy on his conscience.
+
+"What is it, Solomon?"
+
+He whined.
+
+"Got a pain, Solly?"
+
+He regarded her sorrowfully. Till that moment Fancy had been happy and
+light-hearted. Uncle had cheered her up. And his parting remark was
+uplifting and unmistakable. God had seen fit to use her, Fancy Yellam,
+as a humble instrument whereby Uncle's thirst for ale became less
+importunate. A warm glow suffused her small body.
+
+And now, suddenly, she felt chilled, uneasy, unhappy, merely because a
+dog gazed mournfully at her, as if he, the wicked little sinner, were
+grieving for her. Did he know that pain was coming to her inexorably? As
+the thought assailed her mind, so swiftly that she winced, Solomon's
+tail flickered. Not in joyousness. She divined that. In some uncanny
+fashion he was encouraging her to accept this thought of pain, to
+confront it valiantly, not to shrink from it.
+
+"Do you know, Sol?" she whispered.
+
+His tail flickered again. He leaped into her lap, and laid his head upon
+her bosom. She could feel his heart beating; her own heart beat with it.
+
+Was this another amazing proof of fool-wisdom?
+
+Peace came back to her. Humbly, she committed herself to the keeping of
+Omnipotence, thinking intently of her mother. Solomon never moved. She
+was intimately sensible that this dumb creature comforted her. She
+glanced into the shadows of the kitchen. Had her mother's face and
+figure formed themselves out of those shadows, she would not have been
+surprised or frightened. She expected to see her. The conviction stole
+slowly upon her that the mother stood near her, invisible, but a
+powerful protector. And from her would radiate hope and faith and love.
+She would be with her in her travailings....
+
+Presently, another thought stole upon her. As Mrs. Yellam said, Fancy
+had never seen her mother in the flesh. It seemed so cruel that she
+should have been taken at a moment when tiny lips were wailing for what
+she alone could give. From a child she had wanted her mother. To-night,
+for the first time, it flashed into her mind that, perhaps, her mother
+had wanted her--desperately. Just as she wanted her child. How bitter a
+disappointment it must be to forego the tender ministrations, the sweet
+services which only women know, and which, in their fool-wisdom, they
+count dearer than anything the world can bestow.
+
+If--if anything went wrong, she would join her mother....
+
+Solomon lay motionless, but his heart went on throbbing.
+
+Why?
+
+A last thought, the greatest, seemed to float direct from her mother's
+mind to hers. Alfred was facing death, daily, with a laugh, facing, too,
+the possibility of grinding pain. As a soldier's wife, she must try to
+be brave, like him....
+
+Solomon moved restlessly, and then sprang to the floor. He wagged his
+tail briskly, as he took up a commanding position near the door. Mrs.
+Yellam was approaching the cottage. If Fancy opened the door and looked
+out, she would not see her because it was dark. But she would not hear
+her, either. And if she called, Mrs. Yellam would not answer, being, as
+yet, too far away.
+
+But Solomon knew.
+
+Within five minutes, Susan Yellam entered, bringing with her an
+exhilarating atmosphere of keen, fresh air. Her cheeks were red; her
+eyes sparkled.
+
+"Frost be coming, and maybe snow. I likes to see God A'mighty's world
+white and clean come Christmastide."
+
+The old woman bustled about cheerfully, commanding Fancy to sit still.
+She had brought with her a fat hen-pheasant, a gift from the Squire to
+Alfred's wife.
+
+"Folks are very kind," said Fancy.
+
+"Ah, well, 'tis easy to be kind when we be happy. Captain Pomfret walked
+wi' one crutch to-day. And they be drinking champagne for dinner. 'Tis
+the work o' that Lunnon doctor, so they say, a very wonnerful chap wi'
+electrics, bridlin' the lightnin', so to speak. And they perfarms
+miracles wi' men's faces, manufacturin' noses and what-not just so easy
+as pats o' butter. Such fellers must be proud o' theirselves."
+
+"Maybe Mr. Hamlin'll return thanks in church, next Sunday."
+
+"More'n likely. I never thought o' that."
+
+"I wonder," said Fancy, "how it all comes to them, inventions, such as
+wireless and--and chloroform as takes away pain."
+
+Mrs. Yellam chided her, very pleasantly:
+
+"Now, don't 'ee flustrate yourself wi' thoughts o' chloryform. I allows
+that I can answer your question. Inventions comes to they as works hard
+for 'un. 'Tis hard work, and nothing else."
+
+"Uncle would call it--fool-wisdom."
+
+"Fool-wisdom?"
+
+Fancy explained. Mrs. Yellam listened attentively, shaking her head from
+time to time. Uncle's position, to-day, would be as financially sound as
+her own, had he worked hard at his calling, and spent less time on
+crack-brained speculations and less good money on ale. She said as much,
+derisively. Fancy said:
+
+"How does Solly know when you turn the corner by the mill?"
+
+"Dog's instinct."
+
+"Maybe 'tis the same thing."
+
+"Fiddle!"
+
+Fancy refrained from pressing the point, but something told her that
+Uncle was right, and his clever, practical sister wrong. One thing was
+delightfully certain. Happiness had made Mrs. Yellam kind. And it filled
+her with piety. She walked proudly with the Lord, carrying a high head.
+She had forgiven William Saint his trespasses, and expressed a trenchant
+conviction that Satan had removed his headquarters from
+Nether-Applewhite to Ocknell. And she was equally sure that Alfred would
+be home for Christmas, because her troubles had come in battalions at
+midsummer.
+
+"Turn and turn about be only fair," she told Fancy.
+
+Fancy said hesitatingly:
+
+"The cards told true before, didn't they?"
+
+"Ah-h-h! I don't pin my faith to they, child. I be weather-wise, not
+fool-wise. We has spells o' wet and spells o' dry. It be dry now, and
+likely to remain so, I reckons."
+
+Fancy nodded, quite willing to believe that the Yellam barometer would
+stay, for a long spell, at "Set Fair."
+
+After supper, when the kitchen was in perfect order, Mrs. Yellam sat
+knitting beside Fancy. Solomon lay at the feet of his mistress. The logs
+burned briskly, another evidence of coming frost. Sparks burst out of
+them, dazzling scintillations, miniature fireworks. Mrs. Yellam was
+impressed by this pyrotechnic display.
+
+"It minds me of when Master Lionel come of age. I hopes they logs'll
+burn like that when Alferd is sittin' here, wi' a baby on his knee."
+
+Mrs. Yellam appeared so satisfied with life in general that Fancy
+hesitated to disturb the peace, but impulse was too strong for her.
+
+"Solly acted very queer all day."
+
+"Did he now?"
+
+"Hardly touched his nice dinner."
+
+"Well, well, times he takes a notion to scrummage in dustheaps, the lil'
+scavenger! 'Tis the male in him, I reckons. And far-seein'. He do take a
+squint into the future, seemin'ly."
+
+Fancy stared at Mrs. Yellam, slightly startled.
+
+"He buries bones and beastliness all over my garden. I caught 'un wi' a
+cod's head, and cuffed his, I did."
+
+"I took the notion that he was worrying about--about me."
+
+"Did 'ee, now? Natural enough. You bide so ca'm as I be. Worry brings
+peevish children into this world. You sing a hymn, if you think it'll
+hearten you up. 'Onward, Christian Soldiers,' be my fav'rite."
+
+"I do love 'Abide with Me.'"
+
+"You sing what you've a mind to. You be near your time, and must please
+yourself. Singin' helped me, but it druv my pore man to the ale-house.
+So I quit hymns, for his sake."
+
+"Was Mr. Yellam with you when your first baby was born?"
+
+"My, no! What a queer lil' thing you be! He was carrier, wi' business to
+attend to. Men bain't wanted at such times."
+
+"I should like to have Alfred."
+
+"No, you wouldn't. Take that from me. I've a mind to give 'ee a sip o'
+currant wine."
+
+Fancy declined this, with many thanks. The talk became desultory, and
+died down. Fancy dozed off quietly. Mrs. Yellam laid down her knitting
+and gazed keenly at the pale face bent upon the thin bosom. _Spindlin'!_
+Her own word came back to her. She saw that a faint smile curved the
+girl's lips. Evidently she was dreaming happily. Of what? Solomon rose,
+stretched himself, and stood beside his mistress. He whined a little.
+Mrs. Yellam recalled what Fancy had said about his "acting queer."
+
+"She bain't too strong," she muttered.
+
+Solomon whined again and lay down.
+
+Mrs. Yellam's face hardened. The same thought that had assailed Fancy
+attacked her, burying fangs in her heart.
+
+If things went wrong----?
+
+Resolutely, she put this thought from her. God's ways might be
+mysterious, but surely, surely He would stand by this frail creature,
+and temper the wind to her. Even to ask Him to do so seemed impertinent.
+Prayer came to her lips and fluttered away. She closed them tightly. All
+would go well, because of those four graves in the churchyard. She had
+visited them on the previous Sunday. They were certainly a credit to
+her. She washed the marble cross upon Lizzie's grave twice a year, and
+planted flowers on each plot. Coming out of church, strangers would
+pause to look at the Yellam reservation. If they read the
+carefully-selected inscriptions, Mrs. Yellam would feel much uplifted.
+In her square, brass-cornered desk, lay a sealed paper containing
+instructions concerning her own funeral. A plain slab would tell other
+strangers the date of her birth and death, her name, and her
+destination. "Gone Home" was to be chiselled upon grey granite, and
+filled in with leaded letters. Death had never dismayed her. When her
+work was done, she would be called.
+
+Fancy woke up, still smiling.
+
+"You had a nice doze, dear. Pleasant dreams, too."
+
+"Yes," said Fancy. But she couldn't remember her dreams.
+
+As she got out of her chair to go upstairs, she said:
+
+"This has been a happy day, Mother. I must remember it. What is the day
+of the month?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam answered promptly:
+
+"It be the fifteenth of December. Only ten days to Christmas."
+
+Mrs. Yellam never forgot this date. Word came to her some days later. On
+the fifteenth of December, a night attack was made upon German trenches,
+an affair of small importance, not even mentioned in the papers. When
+the men returned to their dug-outs, Sergeant Yellam was
+reported--_Missing_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+MISSING!
+
+
+Everybody assured Mrs. Yellam that Alfred had been taken prisoner. Uncle
+was doubtful whether any nephew of his could be taken prisoner, but he
+did not say this before his sister. The Squire, good fellow, spent time
+and money over telegrams to the Colonel commanding Alfred's battalion.
+And the answer confirmed popular opinion that Alfred, by now, was in
+Germany, where prisoners of war--so Sir Geoffrey assured Mrs. Yellam,
+received more humane treatment. The dead and wounded, after the night
+attack, had been brought in. Alfred was not amongst them. And therefore
+a prisoner. His Colonel, without a word from Sir Geoffrey, expressed
+that as his positive belief.
+
+Fancy, very white and anxious, hugged such belief to her small bosom.
+She said to Mrs. Yellam:
+
+"Alfred will come back."
+
+Mrs. Yellam kissed her, muttering:
+
+"Yes, yes. You be a brave lil' 'ooman."
+
+But Susan Yellam was dissembling. Iron had entered her soul again, iron
+and ice. To Uncle and Solomon she admitted this.
+
+"He be dead, Habakkuk. I knows it. They Proosians 'd never take Alferd
+alive. He be dead, and so be I."
+
+Poor Uncle fell back upon fool-wisdom.
+
+"Now, Susan, in these high matters, the truth be revealed to simple
+minds, like Fancy's. Me and you, dear, be too clever. I've often thought
+that gert brains, like yours, be a crool burden in such times as these.
+You be too far-seein'. Fancy be wise as a bird. If she sticks to it as
+Alferd be comin' back, come back he will, whatever you thinks."
+
+But Mrs. Yellam refused to be comforted.
+
+Next Sunday her pew was empty. Many charitably assigned this to Fancy's
+condition. Hamlin and Uncle knew better. And they took counsel together.
+
+"Can anything be said or done, Uncle?" asked the Parson.
+
+Uncle answered wisely:
+
+"She be past man's help, sir. Me and you has seen this a-comin' from
+afar. The pore soul can guide herself so well as any 'ooman I knows, but
+she do hate to be guided. Allers, she walked wi' the Lard in health, but
+not in sickness. 'Tis wondersome, but it works t'other way about wi' me.
+In health I seems to wander from the Lard, do what I will."
+
+"I tried once before--and failed."
+
+"Ah-h-h! You be a faithful shepherd, Mr. Hamlin; we all knows that. If
+you ask my advice, sir----"
+
+"I do. I do."
+
+"Leave her in the Lard's Hands. None can deny that she be a faithful
+servant o' His. He'll take pity on the pore dear in His good time."
+
+Hamlin seldom asked for advice from his fellow-men. He nodded his head,
+shook Uncle's horny hand, and went back to his study.
+
+The great sacrifice demanded of him had strained his faith. Nobody would
+ever know that. For a few hours he had sat alone, stunned by sorrow. He
+told himself fiercely that he could have spared any one of his sons
+except Teddy. The worldly ambitions which this man had renounced for
+himself bloomed more vigorously for Teddy. He had all the qualities
+which carry a young man far on any road: robust health, excellent
+brains, untiring energy, and a kind heart. His jolly laugh, as Hamlin
+knew, had secured him advancement, quite apart from his ability. Others
+had ability. The happy combination of laughter and energy had fetched
+four hundred a year in the open market. And Hamlin knew, none better,
+what such men are worth to the world, what a stimulus a cheery word and
+smile may be to the weary and sad. Why had Teddy been taken?
+
+Ultimately, he answered that question.
+
+He must be wanted elsewhere. Hamlin held definite opinions about a
+future life. He believed that death involved little change. He believed,
+further, that the conflict between good and evil went on upon the Other
+Side, that souls expanded or diminished over there just as here. Upon
+that belief he had built up his philosophy of life. It explained and
+justified apparent injustices and inequalities very perplexing to him as
+a young man. He believed, also, that good or evil inspired all human
+endeavour. The clay was informed by the spirit. Great writers,
+influencing millions, were merely the mouthpiece, the megaphone, of
+invisible spirits, guardian angels, to use the homely nursery
+expression, who whispered their message to the vessel appointed to
+receive it. Nobody, for many years, had heard him praise
+enthusiastically an individual. He praised the work that each had been
+inspired to do. In Nether-Applewhite, there happened to be a village
+idiot, whose great lolling head and vacuous eyes excited terror in
+children and often revulsion in adults. And the man was past middle age,
+helpless and gibbering from birth. Hamlin never passed him without
+reflecting that death would release an imprisoned soul destined,
+perhaps, to an undreamed-of development hereafter, the greater because
+it had been denied expression on earth. And, inversely, when he met, as
+he did occasionally, men pre-eminent in science, or art, or industry, he
+seemed to see clearly the man standing sharply apart from his work,
+often a very ordinary person, undistinguished save for the amazing fact
+that he had been selected, out of millions, to accomplish something
+vital to the progress of the world.
+
+He had found Authority for this personal belief in the New Testament.
+
+Hamlin sat still by his fire and thought of Mrs. Yellam. He desired to
+help her with an intensity which few would have suspected. Her empty
+pew, as before, stood out in his mind as a vacuum which he abhorred. Not
+because he was a parson. Churchgoing, in one sense, the sense in which
+William Saint regarded it, touched his humour. To go to church because
+it was respectable and pleased the Squire, to mumble prayers, to
+preserve a smug deportment, and rattle coins into an offertory plate,
+approximated closely to comic opera! Mrs. Yellam attended church to
+worship her Maker. Her abstention from Divine Service indicated loss of
+faith, the most grievous loss that can be imposed upon human beings.
+Faith filled Mrs. Yellam's pew; faithlessness emptied it. And if she,
+the strong woman, the helper in so many good works, stayed away from
+God's House, what would be the effect on the faith of others who looked
+up to her as a pattern and example?
+
+His fighting instincts were strongly stirred. But Uncle was right. For
+the moment, Susan Yellam stood alone, beyond man's help.
+
+He went to see her as a friend. As before, she received him with perfect
+self-possession, answered his questions quietly, and assured him that
+her own health caused her no anxiety. Hamlin thought of a chapel
+standing by itself upon a high hill near Abbotsbury, in perfect
+condition without, stripped within, an empty and deserted temple.
+Presently Fancy came in, and Mrs. Yellam went out. After the first
+greeting, Fancy exclaimed eagerly:
+
+"I know that Alfred will come back. I feel it here."
+
+She touched her bosom.
+
+He perceived, with poignant regret, the ravages wrought by suspense. But
+this, he soon discovered, was not due to apprehension concerning
+herself. She was worrying because Alfred would not get enough to eat.
+She talked confidently of his escape from bondage. Alfred was a man of
+resource, quick to seize opportunity. Dozens had got through to Holland.
+Why not he?
+
+Then she spoke of the war. What did it all mean, this never-ending
+slaughter? Was God angry with the world?
+
+Hamlin felt more at ease with this softer specimen of womanhood, who had
+served him faithfully. He admitted frankly, despite the evidence of the
+Old Testament, that he could not conceive of Omnipotence as "angry."
+Then he appealed to her imagination, evoking out of his own hopes and
+hypotheses a new world of nations, linked together by a nobler and wider
+humanity, poorer in material things, richer in faith and charity. He
+sketched for her prehistoric man concerned only with self-preservation.
+He passed from this ape-man to his successor informed by love of his own
+family. From him again to the chief concerned with the welfare of his
+tribe. And thence to the monarch and his nation.
+
+"We must come, sooner or later, to Universal Brotherhood. That, I think,
+Fancy, may come sooner because of this war. The gain to those who are
+not yet born may be ten thousand times greater than our loss."
+
+Her pale cheeks flushed.
+
+"I'd like to think that." She paused, adding modestly: "Although my
+thoughts don't matter."
+
+"But they do," he hastened to say. "This war is forcing people to think,
+who have never thought before. Perhaps we preachers and teachers have
+been unwise in asking others to accept our thoughts, instead of
+encouraging them to think for themselves. Don't be afraid of thinking
+things out. And when it comes to matters of religion, of faith...."
+
+He paused, trying to find simple words, struck by the intensity of her
+glance, knowing that what he might say would be pondered over by a quick
+intelligence.
+
+"Yes, sir----?"
+
+"There would seem to be two kinds of faith, Fancy; the faith that falls
+like the dew from heaven upon some little children, a free gift from
+God; and the faith which we have to work for, and suffer for, and fight
+for with every fibre of our being. I have had to work for my faith; I
+have had to dig down and down till I came at last to some rock upon
+which I could stand. I could hardly bear the cruelty of these times, if
+I had not found that rock."
+
+"What is that rock, sir?"
+
+"A conviction that this life is only a part, a small part of a
+tremendous whole which our finite minds are unable to grasp. That
+conviction comes from experience. It is independent of what is called
+revealed religion, although it has been revealed by all religions,
+inasmuch as it must come from within to be of any real value and
+comfort. It must be worked for, as I say, and paid for. The reward, when
+that rock is reached, is very great."
+
+"What is it, sir?"
+
+"The peace that passes understanding. And now, Fancy, in the trial that
+awaits you, trust in that first faith of which I spoke, the faith that I
+am sure is yours. God knows what is best for us. We all try to make Him
+walk in our ways, instead of walking humbly in His."
+
+She said shyly: "Thank you, sir; you have made things easier for me."
+
+It was late when Hamlin left the Yellam cottage and bitterly cold. He
+walked to Pomfret Court, and found the Squire in his room. In that room
+hard words had passed between Squire and Parson. To-day they were
+friends, working together. And the marriage of their children did not
+adequately account for this. It was one of the unexpected results of the
+war.
+
+"Dinner in five-and-twenty minutes," said Sir Geoffrey. "I'm delighted to
+see you, my dear fellow."
+
+"I wish I could stop. I need your help."
+
+The Squire rang the bell. When the butler came, dinner was postponed a
+quarter of an hour. Another straw to indicate a change in domestic
+currents. Before the war, dinner at Pomfret Court had been regarded as a
+sacred function, never postponed merely because the Parson wanted a word
+with the Squire.
+
+"I want you to pull more strings," said Hamlin, after telling his story
+at some length. "You know swells at the Foreign Office. It must be
+possible to find out through some kind neutral at The Hague whether a
+prisoner of the name of Alfred Yellam was taken upon the night of the
+fifteenth. Very few prisoners have been taken lately; that would make
+the enquiry comparatively simple."
+
+"I'll draw that cover to-morrow morning."
+
+Hamlin thanked him and hurried away. The Squire was amazing. To travel
+to London in this bitter weather meant the sacrifice of what the genial
+Autocrat ranked high--comfort. He would go, like a terrier to a fox,
+straight to a Mandarin and bark at him, worry him, stick to him, till a
+pledge was extracted.
+
+He thought of the trains congested by Christmas travel, the lack of
+porters and taxis. Obviously, the Squire recked nothing of this in his
+hot desire to do a kind turn to a humble neighbour.
+
+Hamlin reflected that Christmas would be the cosier to the Autocrat
+after a cold excursion. He remembered hearing him say that he never
+appreciated his own fireside so much as after a bad day's hunting, when
+the wind blew chill from the north and hounds wouldn't run a yard.
+
+Thoughts of hunting distracted the Parson as he strode back to his
+lonely Vicarage. What a master passion it was in everybody! The Squire
+hunted foxes in all weathers, regardless of weather conditions. Nothing
+stopped him but a hard frost. His Parson hunted men and women, a more
+arduous chase, hounding them out of covers where dirt, ignorance,
+poverty and vice hid them from view. A hard frost, such as had settled
+on Susan Yellam, stopped him. Others hunted fame, money, position, just
+as ardently. And a hard frost, like this war, stopped them.
+
+When would the thaw set in for Mrs. Yellam?
+
+Upon Christmas Eve Fancy's ordeal began.
+
+Hamlin hoped and believed that tiny hands would melt the ice in an old
+woman's heart. Everybody knew that Susan Yellam loved children, and that
+her rather grim face inspired no terrors in them. She kept the large
+green bottle full of bull's-eyes, simply because it lured pattering feet
+to her door. If they trotted up too often, rebukes, not bull's-eyes,
+were forthcoming. A sure way to her favour, as little girls soon
+discovered, was to ask for a flower out of the garden. Farseeing women,
+over-busy on washing-days, popped torn pinafores onto their toddlers,
+knowing that Mrs. Yellam would be sure to take her needle and repair the
+damage. She could always be called upon to sit up with a sick child,
+provided--_bien entendu_--that she was permitted to administer her own
+simple medicines. Grateful mothers, with an eye upon further favours,
+would say to Mrs. Yellam in the presence of neighbours:
+
+"Susan Yellam saved my Daisy's life."
+
+And then Mrs. Yellam would nod majestically, accepting such artful
+homage as her just due.
+
+To Mrs. Yellam's great relief, Fancy suffered less than she had feared
+and expected. Nature was kind to this soft-boned little woman, and
+chloroform assuaged the fiercer pangs. But the baby seemed loath to
+enter so cold a world. There were long and exasperating intermittencies,
+which Fancy endured very patiently. Throughout these periods, when Fancy
+wished to talk about Alfred, Mrs. Yellam dissembled. She even went so
+far, in her eagerness to please and distract the patient, that she
+accepted the sex of the tardy infant, speaking of it as "him," to
+Fancy's great gratification.
+
+Finally, "He" was born at two o'clock upon Christmas Day.
+
+And, alack! the cards had not told true. _He_ was a _She_.
+
+Fancy did not know this for some time. Too exhausted to ask questions,
+she lay silent and still, a faint smile upon her white face, till she
+dozed off into a dreamless sleep.
+
+In the parlour downstairs, where a fire had been lighted in the doctor's
+honour, Mrs. Yellam received another blow. There had been no
+complications in the case; the baby was perfectly formed and normal in
+every way. Nevertheless, the doctor looked worried and refused such
+refreshment as had been provided. Obviously, too, he was in a hurry to
+be gone, but he lingered.
+
+"She is very weak," he said, in a low, impressive voice.
+
+"That's natural."
+
+"Keep her as quiet as possible. I shall return about ten. The nurse has
+my instructions. Great lack of vitality is indicated. Needless to say,
+there is no question of her nursing the child. You are a strong,
+sensible woman, Mrs. Yellam, and able to hide any anxiety you may feel
+from the patient."
+
+The poor heart, just beginning to thaw, felt an icy hand closing about
+it.
+
+"I know how to behave," she muttered.
+
+"I must prepare you for a possible change--not for the better."
+
+"Yes."
+
+She spoke so calmly, that the doctor glanced at her keenly. Was she
+indifferent? It might be so. Relations, as he well knew, were often
+strained between elderly women of strong character and their sons'
+wives. He knew that Alfred had been reported missing. The monthly nurse
+might be regarded as a professional, like himself, willing and able to
+do her duty. More than this might be required. He reflected swiftly that
+he must make the situation even plainer to this somewhat hard-faced,
+hard-eyed woman.
+
+"She might sink from anaemia, Mrs. Yellam."
+
+"I understand, sir."
+
+He slipped on his heavy coat, picked up hat and gloves and turned to
+leave the room. His motor was gently purring outside. Mrs. Yellam prided
+herself upon her manners. But she never moved to open the door, till the
+doctor had his hand upon it.
+
+"Sir----?"
+
+"Yes?"
+
+She approached him. Her face remained calm, but he saw that her strong,
+capable hands were twitching. Her voice, too, quavered a little.
+
+"She be very dear to me, so dear that I be ready to fight for her life
+harder than I would for my own. That's all."
+
+The doctor, ashamed of too hasty conclusions, took both her hands in
+his.
+
+"That is much," he said gravely; "and it may make all the difference.
+Good-night, Mrs. Yellam."
+
+"Good-morning, sir," she admonished him.
+
+Left alone, she sat down, palsied by despair.
+
+And this was Christmas Day!
+
+Upon the table, near the window, the big Bible caught her eye. She
+stared at it, thinking of the page upon which, soon, she might be called
+upon to make three entries--two deaths and one birth. Heavy
+antimacassars embellished the horsehair-covered sofa and the armchairs.
+Mrs. Yellam rose up, snatched three antimacassars from their
+abiding-place and covered the Bible with them. Then she sat down again,
+looking about her, glaring at the familiar objects, so eloquent of the
+past. Upon each side of a large mirror, with its gilt frame protected by
+muslin from flies that had never dared to enter the room, hung two
+enlarged photographs of herself and her husband, taken some
+five-and-twenty years ago. They seemed to stare unblushingly and
+aggressively at her, as if they were rude strangers overbrimming with
+self-importance, smug with prosperity.
+
+"Fools," said Mrs. Yellam, scornfully.
+
+She looked at the other photographs, each in turn, portraits of the
+children who lay in the churchyard.
+
+"You be the lucky ones," she said, in the same derisive tone.
+
+There were many photographs of Alfred in all stages of development:
+Alfred sucking his thumb with an expression upon his year-old
+countenance as if he were thinking regretfully of something more
+nourishing; Alfred in a much be-ribanded frock; Alfred in
+knickerbockers; Alfred in a kilt; Alfred in trowsers, evidently on good
+terms with himself and all the world; Alfred as he appeared in his
+Sunday best, about to take the air with an audacious parlourmaid; and,
+lastly, Alfred in khaki and Fancy, arm in crook.
+
+She glanced hastily at other photographs, of Sir Geoffrey and Lady
+Pomfret and Master Lionel. They smiled so pleasantly that she frowned.
+How dared they smile?
+
+She was not needed yet upstairs. So she sat on in the gate of her
+sorrows, alone in the valley of Achor.
+
+She heard Solomon scratching at the door. She had left him asleep in his
+basket, always placed each night by the kitchen hearth. Mrs. Yellam let
+the dog scratch, but when he began whining she let him in, because Fancy
+might be disturbed, not because she wanted her dog.
+
+Solomon looked at her, and knew.
+
+He governed himself accordingly. Mrs. Yellam had returned to her chair.
+Solomon lay down at her feet. When she wanted to talk to him, she would
+do so. He kept one ear cocked for the first word.
+
+During twenty minutes no word was said. The nurse was in charge of Fancy
+and the baby. Mrs. Yellam had looked forward to assisting at these first
+rites. The expected pleasure had turned into a grinding pain.
+
+Fancy was going, drifting out of life. Probably her baby would not
+survive her many days. But she, the old woman, would remain. She gazed
+down the long perspective of the years to come, cold, dull days without
+one gleam of sunshine, full of inevitable pain.
+
+"I can't bear it," she said aloud. "It be too much for me."
+
+Solomon heard. He knew, of course, that the long-awaited words were not
+addressed to him, but they sounded a clarion note of distress.
+
+He laid his head against her knee.
+
+She looked at him, meeting his clear young eyes. They seemed to be full
+of interrogation.
+
+"If you want to talk, why not talk to me instead of to yourself?"
+
+She patted his head, and let her hand rest upon it. According to Uncle,
+fool-wisdom in dogs warned them of impending disaster. Mrs. Yellam knew
+that Solomon had behaved strangely upon the fifteenth of December. Uncle
+had drawn conclusions from this which he shared with Fancy and his
+sister. If fool-wisdom on the part of dogs could be interpreted by man,
+and he held that he was the man to do it, why, then, the fact of Solomon
+acting "queer" during the day of the fifteenth surely indicated
+fore-knowledge of Alfred's danger. But the attack had taken place at
+night. And the dog had exhibited no "queerness" after sundown. Fancy had
+been much impressed. In his heart, however, Uncle could not envisage
+Alfred as a prisoner. And we know that Mrs. Yellam shared this view. At
+the same time, with her loss of faith in the mercy of Omnipotence, and
+filling the vacuum which Hamlin so abhorred, came the old craving to
+clutch at "signs." It is quite likely that if the cards had "told true,"
+and if a boy were now lying in the cradle upstairs, that Mrs. Yellam
+would have fought despair more valiantly. She might have persuaded
+herself that Fancy would "pull through" and that Alfred would come back.
+
+At this moment she was at a low ebb mentally, although physically able
+to confront any emergency. Despair destroys _morale_, as soldiers know,
+and, paralysing action, heightens sensation. Mrs. Yellam's overwrought
+brain refused to function normally.
+
+Solomon, she reflected, was not acting "queer."
+
+If Uncle were right----! If fool-wisdom could be trusted----!
+
+She asked Solomon a question.
+
+"How be you feeling, my dog?"
+
+Solomon left her tired mind in no doubt on that point. He wagged his
+tail, wriggling convulsively, ready to bark with any encouragement.
+
+"Shush-h-h! Don't 'ee bark, till I gives leave. What do 'ee think about
+Fancy? Be she so bad as Doctor makes out?"
+
+Solomon tried to lick her hand.
+
+"That bain't an answer, Solly."
+
+He wagged his tail.
+
+Astounding as it may seem, this comforted Mrs. Yellam. She went
+upstairs, peeped into her former room, perceived that Fancy was asleep,
+and said to the nurse:
+
+"She be in a be-utiful sleep. Let's see the baby."
+
+The two women looked at the baby, and agreed that it was a fine
+specimen. Mrs. Yellam said impressively:
+
+"Pore dear soul! She thinks it a He. Maybe 'twill be best not to
+undeceive her."
+
+"She'll find out, Mrs. Yellam."
+
+"Ah-h-h! A crool shock. I allows that it be my duty to prepare her."
+
+"She's low," said the nurse, in a professional tone. Mrs. Yellam knew
+that the doctor, before leaving, had given the nurse instructions. The
+nurse, however, made light of apprehension, saying incisively:
+
+"We'll pull her through, Mrs. Yellam. Nothing needed but constant care
+for the first few days. Doctors always scare the gizzards out of us
+because they think that we won't be careful unless they do."
+
+This was comforting. After more talk, Mrs. Yellam prevailed upon the
+nurse to lie down. She proposed to sit by Fancy. The baby could be
+trusted to be quiet, being a She, and, seemingly, blessed with a
+pleasant temper.
+
+Fancy still slept.
+
+Mrs. Yellam took the chair by the bedside. If nothing but care and
+vigilance were needed, they should be forthcoming. She vowed to herself
+that she would fight, tooth and nail, for this life, neglect no
+precaution, run no risk. Physically, she braced herself for the combat.
+Long ago, she had fought for the life of a child--and won! Doctor and
+mother had despaired. It was a case of pneumonia. Hour after hour Mrs.
+Yellam had applied hot cloths to the child's breast. And she had willed
+fiercely that the child should live. Her strong will _had_ saved it.
+Everybody admitted that, even the doctor.
+
+Fancy slept for some hours. She awoke refreshed, free from pain, but
+pitifully feeble. After obediently swallowing some food, she asked to
+see the "boy."
+
+"All in good time," said Mrs. Yellam blandly.
+
+"But I may drop off to sleep again."
+
+"And a very good thing, too. The baby is asleep."
+
+"Has he blue eyes?"
+
+"Baby's eyes be allers blue at first."
+
+"Is he like Alfred?"
+
+"The living image. Now, don't 'ee talk."
+
+"If you bring him to me, I'll be ever so quiet."
+
+"I'll bring the child directly minute. 'Tis a lil' beauty, and a real
+credit to 'ee. Alferd'll be tickled to death. Unbeknownst to yourself,
+dear, you bore him what he wanted, and what I wanted. Now, I'll bring
+her in."
+
+"Her----!"
+
+Fancy closed her eyes. Mrs. Yellam watched her anxiously. She saw two
+tears trickle down the disappointed mother's cheeks. But she was
+smiling, quick to see the joke against herself.
+
+She gave a little laugh, an attenuated sound, but the genuine article.
+
+"Let's see her, Mother."
+
+The Beauty was brought in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+SUSPENSE
+
+
+Sir Geoffrey returned home on Saturday, the 23rd, having achieved his
+purpose. From The Hague, within twenty-four hours, discreet enquiries
+would be made concerning Sergeant Yellam. But the answer might be
+delayed a week.
+
+On Sunday and on Christmas Day Mrs. Yellam's pew was empty, but
+everybody knew that she was in attendance upon Fancy.
+
+Hamlin preached what Uncle called a "very upliftin'" discourse, and
+Uncle made it his business to drop down to the Yellam cottage during the
+afternoon to learn how Fancy fared and to give his sister a synopsis of
+the morning's sermon. By the luck of things, the nurse had just got up,
+and was able to sit with Fancy, whilst Uncle talked with Susan in the
+kitchen.
+
+"She be low, Habakkuk, but I be fighting for her. Oh, me! there's so
+little of her. And no milk for the baby."
+
+"Lard preserve her dear life!"
+
+Susan frowned.
+
+"'Tis milk that be wanted."
+
+"You be right. Bottle-babies suffer crool wi' colic."
+
+"Not if I wash the bottles. Fancy have chosen the names."
+
+"Ah-h-h! Susan be one of 'em; I'll lay a crown-piece on that."
+
+"You'd lose your money. Lizzie Alfreda be the name."
+
+Uncle considered this, and commended the choice. Then he squared his
+shoulders and inflated his big chest.
+
+"You missed a rare treat this marning, Susan."
+
+"Did I?"
+
+She spoke with indifference. Uncle believed in "gentling" refractory
+horses and women. Conviction had descended upon him during the sermon
+that he might be the Lord's instrument to lead Susan Yellam back to her
+pew.
+
+"Pa'son preached about the Babe of Bethlehem, as was right and proper,
+but I makes bold to say as he was thinking of 'ee, Susan, and of Lizzie
+Alfreda, bless 'un."
+
+Mrs. Yellam felt strangely bored. But she knew that it was hopeless to
+try to stop Uncle. What did it matter what any parson said? She was
+wondering whether she could apply for milk to Mr. Fishpingle, at the
+Home Farm. Village cows, grazing by the roadside, might pick up any
+noxious weed.
+
+Uncle continued solemnly:
+
+"Me and Pa'son sees eye to eye about babes. And times, when he do drop
+out o' sky and walks the green earth with mortial men, I feel sure that
+fool-wisdom be his as 'tis mine. We sucked 'un in wi' mother's milk."
+
+Susan said abruptly:
+
+"I've a notion, Habakkuk, that the milk from they Freesian-Holsteen cows
+bain't too rich for a baby's stomach."
+
+Uncle stared at her, anxiously. With difficulty, he assimilated her
+thoughts, abandoning, for the moment, his own.
+
+"Quantity they gives, Susan, not quality. If I was lookin' after lil'
+Lizzie Alfreda, dang me, if I wouldn't give 'un pure cream."
+
+"I'll be bound you would. Or old ale."
+
+She smiled grimly. Uncle really thought that the thaw had set in. He
+continued joyously:
+
+"You listen to me, Susan; I've an upliftin' message for 'ee, and it
+consarns what your thoughts be dwellin' on--the baby upstairs. Pa'son
+made that plain this marning to us old sticks. The Babe of Bethlehem
+brought good cheer and peace to a wicked world ten thousand years ago,
+and the peace o' this world, seemin'ly, lies wi' the little 'uns. And we
+be bound to take extry good care o' they. I tell 'ee, Pa'son talked so
+warm about babes that I felt it in me to raise another family."
+
+"On pure cream?" asked Susan. But, at last, he had challenged her
+attention.
+
+"Ah-h-h! You has your joke. But babes be goin' to be our salvation. 'Tis
+a brave, true notion. What makes a pack o' hounds, Susan? The young
+drafts. If they be lackin' in bone and blood, they turns out skirters,
+and presently the pack be streamin' all over country, runnin' riot,
+chasin' everything and catchin' nothing. And so, old girl, when you sets
+your gert mind on what milk to give lil' Lizzie, you be sarvin' the Lard
+and your country."
+
+Encouraged by Susan's softer expression, Uncle went on, embroidering his
+theme with pardonable exaggeration, setting forth prodigious statistics.
+Millions of babes died for lack of proper care, millions survived
+infancy to become rickety, misformed, wretched children. And the war was
+going to change all this. A nation bled white of its men must make the
+care of children its first and paramount consideration. When he had
+finished, Susan was so impressed that she said commandingly:
+
+"'Tis true. And your duty be plain, Habakkuk."
+
+"Meanin', Susan,----?"
+
+"You step up so brisk as may be to Home Farm. You see Mr. Fishpingle.
+You tell 'un that my gran'child needs pure milk, and, if you don't get
+it, your powers o' speech bain't what you crack 'em up to be."
+
+"Come wi' me, Susan. 'Twill blow some cobwebs out of 'ee."
+
+"No; I sets in this house till----"
+
+"Till when, you broody old hen?"
+
+"Till Fancy be better."
+
+After some protest, Uncle went his way alone, but he whistled as he
+strode along, the jolly optimist. Next Sunday he would see Susan in her
+pew. Soon there would be a christening, and word would come from Alfred.
+Uncle now shared with the Squire the conviction that Alfred, probably
+rushing ahead of his men, had been surrounded by Proosians and
+overpowered.
+
+Upon the Tuesday, the Squire received a telegram from London, which he
+shewed to his wife:
+
+"Yellam not a prisoner."
+
+The telegram was signed by one of the most honoured names in England.
+
+Lady Pomfret sighed. The Squire fussed and fumed, detesting mystery.
+
+"What does it mean, Mary? If he isn't a prisoner, where the dooce is he?
+I have his Colonel's word for it that all the dead and wounded were
+brought in. This telegram is equally reliable. I ask you, where is
+Alfred Yellam?"
+
+"Shell-shock affects some of them very strangely."
+
+"What d'ye mean by that, my dear?"
+
+"You remember John Boyce?"
+
+The Squire was not likely to forget John Boyce, one of the quietest,
+gentlest, and pluckiest of the many wounded men who had passed through
+Pomfret Court. He had been a sufferer from shell-shock and gas, but
+otherwise sound of limb. One morning, as the Squire was lathering his
+face, word came to him that John Boyce had gone mad. Without pausing to
+remove the lather, wearing pyjamas and slippers, the Squire had rushed
+out of his dressing-room, downstairs, and into a corridor, where Boyce
+stood at bay, with a valiant V. A. D. in front of him. He had escaped
+from the ward, and happened to be close to Lionel's sitting-room. Into
+this room the Squire led Boyce, trying to calm him down. The poor fellow
+was possessed of suicidal mania. He had lost his chums and his health.
+He demanded a rifle and permission to go into the garden and "end it."
+It was piteous to hear him. As yet he had exhibited no violence. But in
+Lionel's room, where swords were hanging on the wall, Boyce, with his
+congested eyes on the naked steel, struggled desperately to get hold of
+a sword. The Squire was a very powerful man, and Boyce undersized, but
+insanity nearly mastered sanity. Suddenly, Boyce's body relaxed. All
+violence went out of him. Soon he went back to the saloon, quite himself
+again. Later, he was taken to Netley Hospital, where he recovered
+completely.
+
+Lady Pomfret said slowly:
+
+"Just between ourselves, Geoffrey, is it possible that poor Alfred,
+slightly wounded in the head, perhaps, is wandering somewhere in
+France?"
+
+The Squire opened his mouth.
+
+"My dear Mary, are you hinting at--desertion?"
+
+"If he were not himself, like John Boyce?"
+
+The Squire had to admit that this was possible. Alfred must be
+somewhere. Upon him would be his identification-disk. The number of this
+had been sent to The Hague.
+
+"I must see Hamlin."
+
+He did. Hamlin told him that Fancy was fluttering between life and
+death. Under the circumstances, it might be expedient to say nothing
+about the telegram. To this the Squire warmly agreed. Nobody knew what
+was in the telegram, except Lady Pomfret and themselves. Nobody would
+know till Fancy had turned the corner, one way or t'other, poor little
+dear!
+
+Within twenty-four hours all Nether-Applewhite knew.
+
+Somebody at the telegraph-office must have babbled.
+
+What followed may be imagined. Dick told Tom, and Tom told Harry, till
+verisimilitude--to quote Gilbert--attached itself to an otherwise bald
+and unconvincing narrative. Ultimately, the tale reached the ears of
+Uncle. Alfred Yellam was a deserter--such a deduction from the telegram
+might be considered crude, but on that very account likely to be gobbled
+by gaffers--with a price set upon him, alive or dead. King Garge on his
+throne knew it.
+
+Poor Uncle became distraught. If it were true, he could never carry a
+high head again. Stoutly he refused to believe it, breathing strange
+oaths and threatening violence to all and sundry. If such a wicked lie
+reached Fancy's ears, it would kill her. He strode into the forest to
+cool himself. Could he face his fellow-men in church? He beheld two
+empty pews, and gnashed his teeth.
+
+Returning from the forest, somewhat easier in mind, he decided that
+Susan must be warned. Very wisely he went to Hamlin first, who confirmed
+the telegram, agreeing with Uncle that Mrs. Yellam should be told the
+truth and what it had been twisted into by wagging tongues. Sensible of
+Uncle's excitement and indignation, he said quietly:
+
+"You must rise above this gossip. It is not unnatural and not
+ill-natured."
+
+"I begs your pardon, sir?"
+
+"Sir Geoffrey says that Alfred must be somewhere. For my part, I prefer
+to think of him in the care, perhaps, of some friendly French peasant,
+tending a man who may not remember his own name."
+
+"That be a mort o' comfort. Twice in my long life, I minds forgetting my
+own name. I took a notion that I were the village idiot. Bad ale's
+tricksy stuff. But desartion be a tarr'ble word."
+
+Hamlin clapped him hard on the shoulder.
+
+"Nobody who knows Alfred, or his mother, or you, would credit such a
+monstrous perversion of the truth."
+
+Uncle, much heartened, betook himself to his sister's cottage, where the
+surprise of his life awaited him. Susan literally jumped at this new
+hypothesis. She burst into excited speech.
+
+"If Squire thinks that, 'tis so. Parson be a wonnerful man, but, as you
+says, Habakkuk, sky-high above we. Squire be clay, a gert human bein'
+wise wi' the wisdom that I understands. If he holds that my Alferd be
+wanderin', pore dear, in France, 'tis so. I feels a different 'ooman
+to-night. And Fancy be better, too, wi' some sart o' appetite for her
+victuals. I be fightin' hard for her life, Habakkuk, and I believes
+to-night that all will be well. 'Tis queer, Fancy keeps on a-sayin' to
+me: 'Alferd'll come back.'"
+
+"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. Pa'son be prayin' in church for Alferd.
+'Twould seem more respectful-like if you jined in wi' your loud voice."
+
+At once Mrs. Yellam's face hardened.
+
+"I bide at home till Alferd comes back."
+
+"Ah-h-h! You be set as never was on guidin' yourself, Susan. Now, what
+about tellin' Fancy?"
+
+"I tells her the moment you be gone. 'Twill perk her up, better'n
+ginger-brandy. And what do I keer what they says in village? Let 'un
+talk. Squire be right. Alferd must be somewheres."
+
+Fancy was told within the hour. It will never be known whether the news
+affected her for good or ill. Mrs. Yellam lacked imagination. Fancy, we
+may believe, conjured up a lamentable picture of her Alfred, bereft of
+his wits, wandering in a strange land, homeless and half-starving, at
+the mercy of the elements in mid-winter. But she repeated the main
+clause in her creed:
+
+"Alfred'll come back."
+
+Napoleon has assured us that repetition is the greatest figure of
+rhetoric. The stone is worn away by the ever-falling drop of water.
+Fancy's reiterated phrase fell persistently upon the ice in Susan
+Yellam's heart and melted some of it, not all.
+
+Upon the Thursday morning the Squire received a letter from the Colonel
+commanding Sergeant Yellam's battalion. He read it to Lady Pomfret.
+
+     "My dear Sir:
+
+     "With deep regret I have to inform you of the death of
+     Sergeant Alfred Yellam upon the night of the fifteenth of
+     December. All the facts have come to light, beyond dispute.
+     One of our wounded men has been lying unconscious in our
+     receiving hospital. Last night he became conscious. It seems
+     that Yellam was close to him when a shell from a trench
+     howitzer burst literally upon poor Yellam. According to the
+     evidence of the wounded man Yellam disappeared. That was the
+     last indelible impression of the only witness, who was
+     struck by a splinter from the same shell, and lost
+     consciousness immediately afterwards.
+
+     "Sergeant Yellam had earned the affection and confidence of
+     all ranks. He was the type of man we value most, cool in
+     danger, modest at all times, cheerful, energetic and
+     capable. Peace be with him!
+
+                   "Yours faithfully,
+                                  "Courtenay Tring.
+
+     "P. S.--The official communication will reach Sergeant
+     Yellam's widow in due course. This letter will precede it,
+     and I leave it to your discretion what to do."
+
+"What shall we do?" groaned the Squire.
+
+Before telling the news to anybody else, Sir Geoffrey walked to the
+Vicarage. Hamlin read the letter.
+
+"Susan Yellam must be told," he said slowly. "She can intercept the
+official communication. Such news would kill Fancy."
+
+"Who will tell Susan?"
+
+"I will take the letter to her."
+
+The Squire looked at his face. He wondered why Hamlin was so affected.
+The Parson had sat down, as if he had received a personal blow. He
+rested his austere face upon his hand, thinking not of the young wife,
+so full of faith and courage, but of the old woman. Sir Geoffrey said
+impulsively:
+
+"I wish that you could be spared this, Hamlin."
+
+"So do I."
+
+"You might let Jane Mucklow do it, or Uncle."
+
+"Susan Yellam is my parishioner. God's hand lies heavy on her--how heavy
+I am unable to determine. I have never felt, Pomfret, so conscious of my
+disabilities, of anaemic faith in such cases as this."
+
+The Squire stood confounded.
+
+"I wish I had your faith, Hamlin."
+
+"What is faith?" asked Hamlin, almost fiercely. "Is it merely a belief
+that satisfies and helps oneself? The faith that burned in the Apostles
+was more than that. It saved others. Virtue, at a touch, went out of the
+faithful into the faithless. If I could touch this poor old woman----!"
+
+"You will," said the Squire, with assurance.
+
+"No. And that is why I wish that I could be spared another--failure."
+
+Soon afterwards he left the Vicarage, and, passing the church, paused a
+moment. He went in and stood near the Font, staring at the Christmas
+decorations and then at the Pomfret achievements emblazoned upon many of
+the windows. The decorations served to remind the smallest child in his
+congregation that another Child had been born into the world; the
+achievements reminded the more sophisticated of the Pomfrets who had
+died. The Child had been born to save others; the Pomfrets, many of them
+worthy, God-fearing persons, had been mainly concerned in preserving
+their own bodies and souls.
+
+"He saved others; Himself He cannot save."
+
+The wonderful line came into his mind, as his thoughts dwelt upon the
+millions of seemingly righteous, respectable men and women bent on
+saving their own souls, with but little regard for the souls of others.
+The Salvation Army, so derided and condemned by Church and State when he
+was a boy, had accomplished work which could not be ignored by priest
+and prelate, work undertaken by labourers with no outshining
+qualifications except faith in their ability to convince others, others
+as humble in condition as themselves, who stood, for the most part,
+beyond the pale of organised charity and richly-endowed religious
+denominations.
+
+Did this war, in relation to such thoughts, assume a new significance?
+Could regeneration, reconstruction come from below, from the masses, for
+example, out of which General Booth had enlisted his soldiers? Would a
+privilege, the noblest in the world, the sacrosanct prerogative to touch
+others to finer issues, emanate from the unprivileged? Hamlin could not
+answer the question. Or, as seemed more likely, would light shine from
+above, from a purified aristocracy, purged of self-interest by
+sacrifice, proud and eager to remove intolerable burdens from their less
+fortunate fellow-men? Or, a happier hypothesis than either, would the
+complex problem be solved by co-operation of masses and classes made one
+by sorrow and suffering, born anew through blood and tears? It might
+well be so.
+
+He left the church, and walked through the village. Much rain had
+fallen. He noticed that the Avon was swollen, and ready to overflow its
+banks. The wind blew cold upon his cheeks. The sun moved behind heavy
+clouds ready to discharge vast accumulations of moisture. In short, a
+raw, drizzling day, one of the last of an unhappy year.
+
+When Hamlin reached the cottage, a small girl, who came in during the
+morning to do house-work, the scrubbing and cleaning so dear to Susan,
+told the Parson that Mrs. Yellam was upstairs. She believed that Mrs.
+Alfred had passed a nice night. The baby was doing "lovely."
+
+Susan appeared within a minute. A glance at Hamlin's face was enough for
+her. In silence he took her hand and pressed it.
+
+"You has news of Alferd, sir?"
+
+Her voice was perfectly calm, calmer than his.
+
+"I have a letter from his Commanding Officer. Sit down, and read it."
+
+They were alone in the parlour. The antimacassars had been taken from
+the big Bible and replaced. But no fire burned in the grate. To Hamlin
+the room stood for all that he detested and assailed in English life and
+character. In its humble way, it positively exuded pretension. The
+carpet, a crudely-coloured body Brussels, the ornaments on the
+mantel-shelf, the enlarged photographs, the horse-hair and mahogany
+furniture, the prim bookcase, glazed and glaringly varnished,
+imprisoning, under lock and key, books that nobody read or could read,
+the mirror, the velveteen curtains with imitation lace under-curtains,
+all had been bought to impress neighbours! It was pathetic to reflect
+that Mrs. Yellam thought this hideous parlour a thing of beauty, whereas
+her kitchen, a joy to behold, was merely regarded as utilitarian. And
+yet the kitchen expressed sincerely all that was finest in Mrs. Yellam;
+the parlour set forth blatantly the defects of her strong personality.
+
+She read the letter.
+
+"May I keep it, sir?"
+
+"Yes. Colonel Tring tells us, Mrs. Yellam, what we all know here. Alfred
+was a son to be proud of."
+
+Her face remained impassive. She agreed respectfully that it would be
+unwise to tell Fancy the truth till some measure of strength returned to
+her. Hamlin had thought out a score of simple sentences. He said none of
+them. In all his long life he had never realised so acutely the
+illimitable space which may divide two human beings. At this moment
+Parson and Parishioner stood far apart as the poles. He had intended to
+allude to his own son. But she might fling in his teeth the cutting
+reminder that he had others and a daughter. And in this cold, ugly room,
+looking upon her frozen face, sympathy congealed at its source. He
+withheld condolence, because it must hurt instead of help. In silence he
+commended her soul to God, and went away.
+
+Mrs. Yellam unlocked her brass-cornered desk, and placed the letter
+amongst other papers. Then, idly, she looked out of the window, which
+faced the road and river. Before Hamlin came, she had stood at the
+window upstairs, staring out upon the same familiar landscape. And she
+had asked for a sign. She had looked at the heavy clouds even as Fancy
+had looked at her cards. If light shone through them, she might believe
+that for her spring and summer would bloom again.
+
+The sign had not been vouchsafed.
+
+Now, she stood at the window again, with features slightly relaxed. Such
+an expression informed her face as may be seen, sometimes, on the faces
+of steerage passengers upon trans-Atlantic boats taking leave for ever
+of their native land.
+
+She turned from the window and went, heavily, into the kitchen.
+
+Had she waited a minute longer, she would have seen a sign. Through the
+falling rain shone a strange light, palely amber. It illuminated the
+dull water-meadows, evoking colour--iridescent, opaline tints--where
+colour had ceased to be. It transmuted, magically, the sombre lead of
+the swollen river into sparkling gold. And then, swiftly, the light
+failed, the vision splendid vanished like a mirage, leaving behind a
+desert.
+
+She went up stairs. Fancy said eagerly:
+
+"What does Mr. Hamlin say, Mother?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam hesitated, for one second only. She was unprepared for this
+question; she had forgotten the small maid who had scuttled into the
+room, saying that the Parson wanted to see Mrs. Yellam. With a
+tremendous effort she lied superbly, this woman who loathed lies
+because, in her masculine wisdom, she knew that lies made all ordinary
+matters worse instead of better.
+
+She held up her finger.
+
+"You be much too curious, my girl. Mr. Hamlin dropped in, very
+friendly-like, to ask me about the baby's christening. He be a oner for
+gettin' the lambs into the fold so quick as may be."
+
+Fancy was quite satisfied.
+
+"I told 'un," continued Mrs. Yellam placidly, embroidering her theme
+after a fashion which surely would have provoked envy and commendation
+from Uncle, "that you'd be up and about in no time. We passed a few
+cheerful remarks about this be-utiful weather, and then off he goes."
+
+"I'd like to wait for Alfred," murmured Fancy. "I've a notion that he'll
+come before the New Year. If he ain't a prisoner, he will come. I wonder
+if he knows how bad I want him."
+
+"Ah-h-h!" She paused, and then added sharply: "If wanting 'd bring
+Alferd, he'd be here now. You eat more and think less, and then we'll
+all be happy."
+
+With that Mrs. Yellam went abruptly out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE TRAVELLER RETURNS
+
+
+Throughout the day, Mrs. Yellam hovered in and out of Fancy's room,
+instinctively conscious that her patient was less strong, but
+obstinately determined to fight that instinct. Outwardly, there was no
+change. Fancy lay quiet, thinking and talking of Alfred. Lizzie Alfreda,
+happily, evoked no maternal anxiety. Colic did not disturb the infantile
+slumbers. She smiled ineffably at a bottle which contained
+Frisian-Holstein milk drawn from prize-winners, and judiciously blended
+with lime-water. On this mild tipple the child thrived amazingly. The
+monthly nurse now retired to her own cottage at night, returning in the
+morning. Susan Yellam slept upon a small bed made up in Fancy's room.
+The doctor had expressed gratification at the increasing vitality of his
+patient. And on the Wednesday, he said that he should not call again for
+three days, unless he were sent for. He congratulated Susan upon her
+devotion and skill with unmistakable sincerity.
+
+In the afternoon, the morning's drizzle became a downpour, and the Avon
+escaped from its banks. If such rain continued, the Yellam cottage would
+soon become an island. Susan was not disturbed by this. Nothing
+mattered; nothing distracted her save the overpowering determination to
+put Fancy on her feet again. Fancy would assume control of her child.
+And then an old woman would sit down, fold her hands, and await the end.
+Her premature conviction that Fancy would die and that she would live
+had been modified on reflection. Susan held theories about life and
+work. Before the war she had contended that folks were called when their
+work was done. A few rotten apples might stick to the tree, but they
+proved the general rule. Fruit fell to the ground when ripe.
+
+Satisfied in her mind that she would save Fancy by her own undivided
+efforts, Mrs. Yellam contemplated with grim satisfaction her approaching
+decease. She regarded herself as dead. She could survey with detachment
+what was left of the Susan who rose early, waited diligently upon Fancy,
+ate her meals (without any pleasure in them) and lay down to troubled
+sleep. So chilled was she in mind, soul and body, that she noticed
+without regret that Solomon, the faithful Solomon, too affectionate, too
+demonstrative to a hard old flint, had transferred his allegiance to
+Fancy. The dog lay at the foot of her bed night and day. Fancy talked to
+him about Alfred, not about Lizzie Alfreda, because Solomon was jealous.
+When Lizzie Alfreda came in, Solomon went for a run in the garden, and
+heartened himself up by sniffing at various food-stuffs in a delightful
+state of decomposition. But, oddly enough, he never wandered farther
+afield. Within half an hour--Lizzie Alfreda's visits were drastically
+curtailed--he would patter up the wooden stairs, scratch at the door,
+whine, and be admitted. In a jiffy he was on the bed again, staring hard
+at Fancy, as if he were a doctor contemplating a change of treatment.
+
+It had been agreed between Hamlin and Mrs. Yellam that Alfred's death
+should be kept a secret from the villagers till the official
+notification appeared in the newspapers. But when Uncle walked into the
+cottage at tea-time, full of cheer despite the weather, and cracking
+many small jokes about boats and swimmers, Mrs. Yellam simply could not
+bear it. She said with startling abruptness:
+
+"Habakkuk, I'd break bad news to 'ee gently, if I could. But 'tisn't in
+me to do it. Alferd be dead."
+
+Poor Uncle could not take it in.
+
+"But, Susan, Alferd be lost."
+
+"'Twas a shell. They couldn't find 'un, because there was nothing to
+find."
+
+To her dismay, Uncle bowed his head upon his hands and wept like a
+woman, shedding the copious tears that might have softened the hard eyes
+steadily regarding him. He had loved Alfred. Susan knew this. He could
+have better spared one of his own sons rather than this kindly,
+affectionate nephew. She rose quietly and fetched the letter, giving him
+time to recover his self-control. As she held out the letter, he raised
+a face to hers so seamed by grief and pain that almost, almost her heart
+melted within her. He read the letter and returned it. She put it away,
+and took a chair upon the other side of the hearth. Uncle gazed about
+him, noting, as men do upon such occasions, trifles that escape notice
+in happier times. The coffin stools stood in their old place against the
+wall. Uncle pointed at them, with trembling finger:
+
+"Fancy be dead, too."
+
+"No. She be more like herself to-day, although tarr'ble weak. They
+stools be for me, Habakkuk. The sooner I goes the better."
+
+No inflection of resignation tempered this statement. Uncle, like
+Hamlin, realised the futility of condolence, but silence imposed too
+great a burden upon him.
+
+"You has the baby," he suggested.
+
+"She belongs to Fancy. I bain't afeard for they two."
+
+"Be you afeard for yourself, Susan?"
+
+She eyed him, sensible of an ever-increasing aversion to questions. Was
+he thinking of punishment hereafter, of Hell's fires?
+
+"I bain't afeard o' Hell, and I bain't going to Heaven. For why? Heaven
+and Hell be here on earth--and nowheres else."
+
+"Susan----!"
+
+"Ay, you be mazed, and no wonder. But I be come to that. I believed in
+God A'mighty; I believed in Satan--for sixty long years. But such belief
+be clean gone."
+
+"You be wrong, Susan. It ain't in me to argufy wi' 'ee, and, maybe, tear
+both our hearts. But you be wrong. The swallers knows better'n that. Who
+gave 'em their wisdom? I says no more but this: God sent His Own People
+into the wilderness, where you be, and He brought 'em out."
+
+She shook her head. Uncle stood up.
+
+"'Tis rainin' crool hard, but I be off to the Forest. You won't want
+Jane fussin' about 'ee? No. Or anybody else. I allers allowed as misery
+loved company, but I be so miserable this day that I wants to be alone,
+as you does."
+
+He kissed her cold cheeks and went out into the rain.
+
+She sat on for a minute, but the thought that worried her most was the
+regret that he had not had his tea. The day was failing fast. In a
+moment she would have to light a lamp and carry it upstairs. But
+something remained to be done, a duty neglected since the morning.
+
+She went into the parlour, where the light was better, but not good;
+good enough, she reflected, for her purpose. She lifted the Bible,
+placed it upon the middle table, and opened it at the fly-leaf. Then she
+took pen and ink from her desk and a clean sheet of blotting-paper. She
+took out her spectacles, wiped them carefully, put them on, and sat
+down. Against Alfred's name she made the necessary entry, "_Killed in
+Action_," adding the date. Her hand never trembled; the writing was
+characteristic; firm, bold, with the words neatly spaced, indicating
+love of order. What she had willed herself to be, she was: a flint
+embedded in sterile soil. She took off her spectacles and placed them in
+their case, rising as she did so. Upon second thoughts, she decided to
+let the ink dry upon the page. Suddenly, an irresistible impulse gripped
+her. She glanced about her furtively, defiantly, as if challenging
+unseen powers to thwart her determination. Hastily with fingers that
+trembled this time, she snatched up the pen, dipped it into the ink, and
+wrote against her name, Susan Yellam, these words:
+
+"_Died. December 28th, 1916._"
+
+As hastily, she placed the sheet of blotting-paper above the entries,
+closed the Bible, and replaced it upon its table.
+
+Having shut up the parlour, she lit a lamp and carried it upstairs. The
+baby was asleep. The nurse went home for the night. Then Mrs. Yellam
+told Fancy, in a cheerful voice, that she would bring up tea in a few
+minutes.
+
+"I thought I heard Uncle," said Fancy.
+
+"Yes; he looked in and made some stupid jokes, he did, about gettin' the
+miller's boat."
+
+"Whatever for?"
+
+"Like as not we may be on an island afore nightfall."
+
+Fancy smiled.
+
+"I'd love to ride in miller's boat again. Alfred popped the question in
+that. I did tease him first. 'Twas rare fun. I suppose Uncle was in fine
+fettle, as usual?"
+
+"Yes; I never seen him so gay and joyous. Now, you lie so quiet as any
+mouse whilst I gets tea."
+
+It might have been so delightful a meal. Outside, the wind roared and
+the rain fell in sheets; inside, the logs crackled in the fireplace, the
+warm curtains were drawn, and the lamp shone upon Mrs. Yellam's best
+tea-things. Everything that could tempt a capricious appetite was there:
+fragrant tea, cream, jam, honey, and little scones which warranted the
+belief that Susan Yellam had secreted somewhere a bag of white flour.
+
+Susan had to sustain the burden of talk, and soared to heights. Fancy
+must be entertained--the doctor's injunction. The old woman's amazing
+will surmounted all obstacles. And who shall say that this
+heart-breaking effort to beguile Fancy was not the most selfless
+achievement of Mrs. Yellam's long life? She described passages in
+Uncle's early career; anecdotes about Jane, anecdotes about her own
+Lizzie and Alfred. As a boy, it seemed, Alfred had been very untidy. He
+never kept his own little attic in order. Finally his mother said to
+him:
+
+"Alferd, your room bain't a boy's room, nor a dog's kennel, nor a pig's
+stye. 'Tis the habitation of a lunatic."
+
+Fancy smiled, because the mother must have spoken at the time, and again
+now, with such inimitable seriousness.
+
+After tea, Fancy was commanded to rest. But before doing so, she caught
+hold of her entertainer's hand, and said earnestly:
+
+"How good you are to me, Mother! How good and kind you always are to
+sick folk. Such a wondersome woman! I hope my lil' maid will grow up
+just like you."
+
+"If you talk such outrageous nonsense, I'll--I'll spank Lizzie. That'll
+larn 'ee."
+
+But Fancy refused to be gagged. She went on, in her soft, feeble tones,
+expatiating upon Mrs. Yellam's many virtues and excellencies. Time was
+when Susan would have listened to this praise with smug complacency.
+Fancy did but state the facts. And the mere recital of them exasperated
+the listener beyond endurance. Steel striking flint--and praise had
+become steel--provoked sparks.
+
+"I be real vexed wi' 'ee, Fancy."
+
+She bustled off with the tea-things, and remained absent so long that
+Fancy began to fear that she had really offended her. Solomon, however,
+reassured her on this point. They exchanged pleasant chat about Alfred.
+Fancy felt jealous because Solomon would know when Alfred was coming at
+least five minutes before she did.
+
+"You'll jump off the bed and bark."
+
+Solomon wagged his tail.
+
+"My! Won't he get wet if he comes to-night, Solly? Are you expecting him
+to-night, you wise little dog?"
+
+Solomon put a cold nose into her hand. Mrs. Yellam's step was heard on
+the stairs. Solomon retired to his end of the bed, well aware that
+prolonged talk had been forbidden after tea.
+
+Mrs. Yellam, seeing that Fancy was awake, said impressively:
+
+"We be an island at this minute."
+
+"Oh, dear!"
+
+Mrs. Yellam assured her that it had often happened before. The cottage
+itself stood high above the encroaching waters. At highest flood they
+were not more than two feet deep.
+
+"Alfred'll get so wet."
+
+"Ay. I never thought o' that. I think, Fancy, that you did ought to put
+this strange notion of Alferd's coming out of your dear lil' head. 'Tis
+most onlikely. I dunno' how such a queer idea got into it."
+
+"Because he promised me that he would come."
+
+"But, Lard bless 'ee, he meant so be as he got leave. If 'tis true that
+he be safe in France----"
+
+"I know he be safe."
+
+Mrs. Yellam glanced at her anxiously. Was the girl light-headed? She
+must know that if Alfred were missing, owing--as Fancy had been
+discreetly told--to some injury to his head which had caused him to
+stray from the British lines, his first steps, when he became himself
+again, would be directed back to his battalion. Wisely, she busied
+herself about the room, entreating her patient to compose herself to
+sleep. Presently Fancy dozed off, and Mrs. Yellam, softly approaching
+the bed, examined her critically. She looked startlingly pretty. A faint
+colour tinged lips and cheeks; her skin was translucently clear; her
+hair, regularly brushed by Mrs. Yellam, lay thick and lustrous above her
+forehead.
+
+It was almost impossible to behold her as a widow.
+
+For the first time since she had dedicated all her energies to fighting
+for this frail life doubt assailed Mrs. Yellam. Fancy's hand lay upon
+the white counterpane. Mrs. Yellam laid her hand beside it and compared
+the two.
+
+All her experience of life as it is lived by people who cannot afford
+servants, the endless bondage to manual labour, the washing, scrubbing
+of floors and pots and pans, the cooking, the mending, rose up in her
+ample mind, and filled it with poignant misgiving. Could this attenuated
+hand, soft and weak as a child's, fend for Lizzie if--if Death came at
+the despairing call of Susan Yellam?
+
+She clenched her own hand, nearly as large and powerful as a man's fist.
+Fancy _must_ live to mother her child. She had no claim on Death, this
+young, pretty creature, so easily pleased with life, so happy with
+simple things, so contented with what she possessed, incapable of
+envying those above her in station. Time would be kind to her. Time
+would enshrine Alfred in her heart as the man who had taught her to
+love, who had given her a fidelity and tenderness rarely found in
+cottages or palaces. She might marry again. Why not? It says much for
+Susan Yellam's essential wisdom that she could visualise such a
+possibility, however remote, without a pang.
+
+A couple of hours passed.
+
+Lizzie Alfreda was fed and washed, with Fancy looking on, and replaced
+in her cradle. Mrs. Yellam mended the fire, and went down to the kitchen
+to prepare supper. Fancy seemed to be refreshed after her nap, but some
+inflection of her voice warned an obstinate old woman that strength was
+departing, very slowly, almost imperceptibly, as the hour-hand moves
+round the dial.
+
+After supper she took her knitting and sat by the bed. To her great
+relief, Fancy never mentioned Alfred. She prattled artlessly about
+Lizzie. And then, gradually, during the intermittancies of silence, Mrs.
+Yellam knew that the victory, for which she had fought so desperately,
+which she had believed to be won, was unachievable. Afterwards, she was
+unable to say when this conviction seized her. She admitted, however, to
+Uncle that she knew because Fancy must have known. And Fancy believed
+that she was cunningly hiding this knowledge. It leaked from her lips,
+as she talked about Lizzie Alfreda to her grandmother, conjuring up a
+picture of youth ministering to age, a picture so vivid, so true to
+life, that something told Susan Yellam that it must come to pass. Fancy
+was going. And when her own time came, she would lie in this bed, and
+Alfred's child would close her eyes. Fancy foreshadowed no such scene.
+But she spoke of Mrs. Yellam teaching Lizzie Alfreda how to use her
+needle and instructing her in other domestic tasks. The thought of doing
+this, of playing mother in her old age, softened indurated tissues, but
+the original hardness remained. Susan turned desperately for comfort to
+a flesh-and-blood grandchild; she turned as desperately from any faith
+in a wise and merciful God.
+
+Outside, the rain went on falling; the wind wailed through the firs
+where the ospreys found sanctuary on their flight south. Solomon slept
+comfortably at the foot of the bed. Presently, it became time to prepare
+Fancy for the night. Face and hands were washed with soap which Mrs.
+Yellam had never applied to her weather-beaten countenance. Fancy's hair
+was brushed and plaited in two coils.
+
+"Put on fresh ribands to-night, mother."
+
+"What an idea! You be so vain as any twoad."
+
+"Are toads vain? I'd like blue ribands."
+
+Grumblingly, Mrs. Yellam went to a drawer and produced new ribands. When
+she had finished her patient's toilet, she said:
+
+"My! But you look pretty to-night."
+
+"Do I? I'm glad of that."
+
+Lizzie Alfreda woke up, clamouring for Frisian-Holstein milk. She lay
+beside Fancy till the bottle was finished. Then she was taken back to
+her cradle in the next room.
+
+It was fully time now for Mrs. Yellam to prepare for the night, but she
+didn't do so. Fancy had closed her eyes. The faint colour had gone from
+her cheeks. She had fallen asleep. Susan laid her finger upon the pulse;
+she could just feel it beating, but not regularly. A wild impulse surged
+through her to rush into the night, to send Uncle for the doctor. But
+she dared not leave her patient. And, after all, there was so little
+change; the child had talked too much after tea; strength would return
+in the morning.
+
+She made up the fire again, slipped off her austere black gown, and put
+on a dressing-gown, an ancient garment known to many mothers in
+Nether-Applewhite. Draped in this, with list sandals on her feet, you
+might have taken Susan for a Roman matron. Hamlin, who had seen her thus
+arrayed, nearly addressed her as "Cornelia."
+
+An hour or more may have passed, during which time the gale began to
+rage itself out. Lulls succeeded roaring blasts. Mrs. Yellam felt no
+inclination to sleep; she became, instead, sensible of alertness, a
+quickening of sensibilities and senses. Her hearing, still acute, became
+painfully so. The patter of the rain upon the windows irritated her;
+when it stopped, she missed it, and wanted it to begin again.
+
+And then a strange thing happened, strange only when taken in connection
+with what followed. Solomon woke up, jumped lightly from the bed, and
+went to the door. He had been let out, as usual, some two hours
+previously. Mrs. Yellam held up a finger, enjoining silence. Solomon lay
+down, head up, staring at the door, alert, as Mrs. Yellam was,
+expectant, with ears cocked as if he heard something or somebody.
+
+"What is it, Solly?" she whispered.
+
+He paid no attention.
+
+If the cottage had not been surrounded by water, Mrs. Yellam might have
+considered the probability of tramps trying to find shelter in the barn.
+She would not have been alarmed. Her cottage was tramp-proof and at this
+moment an island fortress. At the same time, she knew that her heart was
+beating faster; an indefinable fear assailed her, something she had
+never experienced before.
+
+She started violently. Fancy was sitting up in bed, her cheeks flushed
+with colour, her eyes dancing, her arms outstretched.
+
+"I hear him," she exclaimed. "Don't you, Mother?"
+
+"Lie down, child; lie down."
+
+"It's Alfred. Let him in!"
+
+Mrs. Yellam did not move. Fancy, she decided, was light-headed. She
+hesitated, fearing to excite her, willing to humour her, provided she
+made no attempt to leave her bed.
+
+"He's coming upstairs."
+
+She no longer looked at Mrs. Yellam; her eyes remained upon the bedroom
+door. So strange a light shone in those eyes that Mrs. Yellam began to
+question her own sanity, not Fancy's.
+
+Solomon never moved.
+
+The suspense became unendurable. But Mrs. Yellam remained in her chair,
+ready to spring to her feet, if Fancy left the bed.
+
+Solomon got up, whined, turned from the door, and jumped into Mrs.
+Yellam's lap. He was trembling. At the same moment she heard Fancy's
+voice, strong and exultant:
+
+"Alfie!--I knew you'd come."
+
+Her speech became broken and faltering:
+
+"I did want you, as never was. It was awful going through it without
+you. And it's a She--what you wanted. How lovely you look! Kiss me
+again! Hold me tight! If you don't, I--I may slip off...."
+
+Her voice died away in sighs; her eyes closed; her head fell back upon
+her pillow. Mrs. Yellam put Solomon down, rose to her feet, and hurried
+to the bed. In an instant her strong arms were encircling the wasted
+body, clutching it to her, trying to hold Fancy back, but knowing that
+she was, as she said, slipping away. Fancy spoke again, very faintly:
+
+"However did you manage to come back?"
+
+Mrs. Yellam listened, waiting, hoping, and almost believing, that an
+answer would be forthcoming. Her son, according to Colonel Tring, had
+been killed by a shell--killed and obliterated. She had known that death
+must have been painless.
+
+Fancy answered for Alfred, in a whisper that seemed to come from an
+immense distance.
+
+"I hear you, plain as plain. What? A--_shell_--! Did it hurt, Alfie? It
+didn't. But because of that you were able to come. You had to come for
+both our sakes--Mother's and mine. And such a night! You ain't a bit
+wet, neither.... Afraid, Alfie...? With you holding me tight as
+tight.... Oh, no."
+
+Susan Yellam heard a trickle of laughter. After that Fancy sighed twice,
+and then her small body relaxed.
+
+She had slipped away.
+
+       *     *     *     *     *
+
+Dawn was stealing into the kitchen when Mrs. Yellam went downstairs.
+
+She was still curiously alert in mind, although very weary in body.
+After she had closed Fancy's eyes and performed the last services, she
+sat down by the bed to think. Dying people, as she knew, might entertain
+hallucinations. And Fancy, in health, exercised a lively imagination.
+That she should believe that she saw Alfred, so long and ardently
+desired, just before breath left her body, was not remarkable in itself.
+
+But, speaking for Alfred, repeating, as it were, information, Fancy had
+used the word "shell."
+
+Was this mere coincidence?
+
+Again, according to Alfred--admitting that he had come back--his return
+in the spirit was due not only to solicitude for his wife, but for his
+mother. She heard Fancy's feeble voice--"for both our sakes." And she
+had spoken of his appearance as "lovely."
+
+Susan Yellam's strong brain considered these three facts together with
+the uncanny behaviour of Solomon, now peacefully asleep in the next
+room. As yet, she had shed no tears, but, slowly, the ice about her
+heart was melting.
+
+Her thoughts turned to the form beneath the spotless sheet. It seemed so
+cruel that Fancy should be dead. Why was life given to young things and
+then taken away? But this gentle creature had not lived in vain. She had
+accomplished a task that had baffled Jane Mucklow and herself. Fancy had
+drawn Habakkuk from the ale-house, beguiled him from his cronies with
+soft words and smiles, made a better man of him. She had made a better
+man of Alfred.
+
+She thought of Alfred and Fancy together.
+
+Almost she believed that Alfred had come back.
+
+Hovering upon the brink of this conviction, she heard a wail from the
+baby, the pitiful appeal of helplessness to strength. She hurried into
+the next room, and took the child into her arms, clutching it to her
+bosom.
+
+Lizzie Alfreda was hers, her very own. Till that moment she had regarded
+the tiny creature, not with indifference, but apathetically, a
+grandchild by whom she would do her duty. And we know that she had
+forced herself to believe that Fancy would live to fend for her own
+child. Could so frail a woman have done so properly? If her wish had
+been granted, if Death had taken Susan instead of Fancy Yellam, and if
+Fancy had risen from her bed an enfeebled, anaemic woman, subject to all
+those maladies which wait on physical debility, could she have "fended"
+for Lizzie Alfreda?
+
+The ice was melting fast now.
+
+She fed Lizzie Alfreda and replaced her in the cradle, but the baby
+still wailed a little, staring at Susan Yellam. She took her up--an
+action against her principles--soothed her, and immediately the child
+stopped crying. Susan crooned to her a lullaby which she thought she had
+forgotten, which had served, long ago, when her own Lizzie was wakeful.
+And the simple, droning song brought back, vividly, past pleasures. Age
+dropped from her; she became for a moment a young mother anticipating
+joyously all that "fending" implied. Soon the child slept.
+
+And then the tears came, washing away ice, doubt, despair, cleansing
+anew a humble and contrite heart.
+
+From that undiscovered country, whose existence she had obstinately
+denied, a traveller had returned.
+
+After lighting the kitchen fire, Susan Yellam entered the parlour. She
+pulled up the blinds and drew the curtains. From her desk, she took a
+sharp penknife, and tried its edge upon her thumb. Then, reluctantly, as
+if ashamed, she opened the Bible, intending to erase carefully the last
+presumptuous entry.
+
+She glanced at it, and a sharp exclamation escaped her trembling lips.
+She put on her spectacles and stared, open-mouthed, at the page in front
+of her. "Died, December 28th, 1916," was written not, as she had
+supposed, against the name of Susan Yellam, but against the name of
+Fancy Yellam.
+
+And then she remembered that, in her blind haste to record her own
+death, she had forgotten to put on her spectacles.
+
+And the light, at the time, was failing.
+
+The Light was not failing now.
+
+She fell upon her knees, bowing her head over the Book.
+
+Next Sunday she was in her pew.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS OF
+MARY ROBERTS RINEHART
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+"K." Illustrated.
+
+K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, drops out of the world that has known him,
+and goes to live in a little town where beautiful Sidney Page lives. She
+is in training to become a nurse. The joys and troubles of their young
+love are told with that keen and sympathetic appreciation which has made
+the author famous.
+
+
+THE MAN IN LOWER TEN.
+
+Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.
+
+An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the
+"Man in Lower Ten." The strongest elements of Mrs. Rinehart's success
+are found in this book.
+
+
+WHEN A MAN MARRIES.
+
+Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker.
+
+A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his
+aunt is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family
+income and who has never seen the wife, knows nothing of the domestic
+upheaval. How the young man met the situation is humorously and most
+entertainingly told.
+
+
+THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE.   Illus. by Lester Ralph.
+
+The summer occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold
+Armstrong, the son of the owner, on the circular staircase. Following
+the murder a bank failure is announced. Around these two events is woven
+a plot of absorbing interest.
+
+
+THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS.
+
+Illustrated (Photo Play Edition.)
+
+Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly
+realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious
+doctor who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with
+world-worn Dr. Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and
+slender means.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+SEVENTEEN. Illustrated by Arthur William Brown.
+
+No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortal young
+people of this story. Its humor is irresistible and reminiscent of the
+time when the reader was Seventeen.
+
+
+PENROD. Illustrated by Gordon Grant.
+
+This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, humorous,
+tragic things which are locked secrets to most older folks. It is a
+finished, exquisite work.
+
+
+PENROD AND SAM. Illustrated by Worth Brehm.
+
+Like "Penrod" and "Seventeen," this book contains some remarkable phases
+of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenile prankishness
+that have ever been written.
+
+
+THE TURMOIL. Illustrated by C. E. Chambers.
+
+Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts against his
+father's plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The love of a
+fine girl turns Bibb's life from failure to success.
+
+
+THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA. Frontispiece.
+
+A story of love and politics,--more especially a picture of a country
+editor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies in the love
+interest.
+
+
+THE FLIRT. Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood.
+
+The "Flirt," the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's engagement,
+drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another, leads another
+to lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid and unpromising
+suitor, leaving the really worthy one to marry her sister.
+
+_Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIES
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+MOTHER. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
+
+This book has a fairy-story touch, counterbalanced by the sturdy reality
+of struggle, sacrifice, and resulting peace and power of a mother's
+experiences.
+
+
+SATURDAY'S CHILD.
+
+Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes.
+
+Out on the Pacific coast a normal girl, obscure and lovely, makes a
+quest for happiness. She passes through three stages--poverty, wealth
+and service--and works out a creditable salvation.
+
+
+THE RICH MRS. BURGOYNE.
+
+Illustrated by Lucius H. Hitchcock.
+
+The story of a sensible woman who keeps within her means, refuses to be
+swamped by social engagements, lives a normal human life of varied
+interests, and has her own romance.
+
+
+THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE.
+
+Frontispiece by Allan Gilbert.
+
+How Julia Page, reared in rather unpromising surroundings, lifted
+herself through sheer determination to a higher plane of life.
+
+
+THE HEART OF RACHAEL.
+
+Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers.
+
+Rachael is called upon to solve many problems, and in working out these,
+there is shown the beauty and strength of soul of one of fiction's most
+appealing characters.
+
+_Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+SEWELL FORD'S STORIES
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+SHORTY McCABE. Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+A very humorous story. The hero, an independent and vigorous thinker,
+sees life, and tells about it in a very unconventional way.
+
+
+SIDE-STEPPING WITH SHORTY.
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+Twenty skits, presenting people with their foibles. Sympathy with human
+nature and an abounding sense of humor are the requisites for
+"side-stepping with Shorty."
+
+
+SHORTY McCABE ON THE JOB.
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+Shorty McCabe reappears with his figures of speech revamped right up to
+the minute. He aids in the right distribution of a "conscience fund,"
+and gives joy to all concerned.
+
+
+SHORTY McCABE'S ODD NUMBERS.
+
+Illustrated by Francis Vaux Wilson.
+
+These further chronicles of Shorty McCabe tell of his studio for
+physical culture, and of his experiences both on the East side and at
+swell yachting parties.
+
+
+TORCHY. Illus. by Geo. Biehm and Jas. Montgomery Flagg.
+
+A red-headed office boy, overflowing with wit and wisdom peculiar to the
+youths reared on the sidewalks of New York, tells the story of his
+experiences.
+
+
+TRYING OUT TORCHY. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy is just as deliriously funny in these stories as he was in the
+previous book.
+
+
+ON WITH TORCHY. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy falls desperately in love with "the only girl that ever was," but
+that young society woman's aunt tries to keep the young people apart,
+which brings about many hilariously funny situations.
+
+
+TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC. Illustrated by F. Foster Lincoln.
+
+Torchy rises from the position of office boy to that of secretary for
+the Corrugated Iron Company. The story is full of humor and infectious
+American slang.
+
+
+WILT THOU TORCHY. Illus. by F. Snapp and A. W. Brown.
+
+Torchy goes on a treasure search expedition to the Florida West Coast,
+in company with a group of friends of the Corrugated Trust and with his
+friend's aunt, on which trip Torchy wins the aunt's permission to place
+an engagement ring on Vee's finger.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS OF WINSTON CHURCHILL
+
+
+THE INSIDE OF THE CUP. Illustrated by Howard Giles.
+
+The Reverend John Hodder is called to a fashionable church in a
+middle-western city. He knows little of modern problems and in his
+theology is as orthodox as the rich men who control his church could
+desire. But the facts of modern life are thrust upon him; an awakening
+follows and in the end he works out a solution.
+
+
+A FAR COUNTRY. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.
+
+This novel is concerned with big problems of the day. As _The Inside of
+the Cup_ gets down to the essentials in its discussion of religion, so
+_A Far Country_ deals in a story that is intense and dramatic, with
+other vital issues confronting the twentieth century.
+
+
+A MODERN CHRONICLE. Illustrated by J. H. Gardner Soper.
+
+This, Mr. Churchill's first great presentation of the Eternal Feminine,
+is throughout a profound study of a fascinating young American woman. It
+is frankly a modern love story.
+
+
+MR. CREWE'S CAREER. Illus. by A. I. Keller and Kinneys.
+
+A new England state is under the political domination of a railway and
+Mr. Crewe, a millionaire, seizes a moment when the cause of the people
+is being espoused by an ardent young attorney, to further his own
+interest in a political way. The daughter of the railway president plays
+no small part in the situation.
+
+
+THE CROSSING. Illustrated by S. Adamson and L. Baylis.
+
+Describing the battle of Fort Moultrie, the blazing of the Kentucky
+wilderness, the expedition of Clark and his handful of followers in
+Illinois, the beginning of civilization along the Ohio and Mississippi,
+and the treasonable schemes against Washington.
+
+
+CONISTON. Illustrated by Florence Scovel Shinn.
+
+A deft blending of love and politics. A New Englander is the hero, a
+crude man who rose to political prominence by his own powers, and then
+surrendered all for the love of a woman.
+
+
+THE CELEBRITY. An episode.
+
+An inimitable bit of comedy describing an interchange of personalities
+between a celebrated author and a bicycle salesman. It is the purest,
+keenest fun--and is American to the core.
+
+
+THE CRISIS. Illustrated with scenes from the Photo-Play.
+
+A book that presents the great crisis in our national life with splendid
+power and with a sympathy, a sincerity, and a patriotism that are
+inspiring.
+
+
+RICHARD CARVEL. Illustrated by Malcolm Frazer.
+
+An historical novel which gives a real and vivid picture of Colonial
+times, and is good, clean, spirited reading in all its phases and
+interesting throughout.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+JACK LONDON'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+JOHN BARLEYCORN. Illustrated by H. T. Dunn.
+
+This remarkable book is a record of the author's own amazing
+experiences. This big, brawny world rover, who has been acquainted with
+alcohol from boyhood, comes out boldly against John Barleycorn. It is a
+string of exciting adventures, yet it forcefully conveys an unforgetable
+idea and makes a typical Jack London book.
+
+
+THE VALLEY OF THE MOON. Frontispiece by George Harper.
+
+The story opens in the city slums where Billy Roberts, teamster and
+ex-prize fighter, and Saxon Brown, laundry worker, meet and love and
+marry. They tramp from one end of California to the other, and in the
+Valley of the Moon find the farm paradise that is to be their salvation.
+
+
+BURNING DAYLIGHT. Four illustrations.
+
+The story of an adventurer who went to Alaska and laid the foundations
+of his fortune before the gold hunters arrived. Bringing his fortunes to
+the States he is cheated out of it by a crowd of money kings, and
+recovers it only at the muzzle of his gun. He then starts out as a
+merciless exploiter on his own account. Finally he takes to drinking and
+becomes a picture of degeneration. About this time he falls in love with
+his stenographer and wins her heart but not her hand and then--but read
+the story!
+
+
+A SON OF THE SUN. Illustrated by A. O. Fischer and C. W. Ashley.
+
+David Grief was once a light-haired, blue-eyed youth who came from
+England to the South Seas in search of adventure. Tanned like a native
+and as lithe as a tiger, he became a real son of the sun. The life
+appealed to him and he remained and became very wealthy.
+
+
+THE CALL OF THE WILD. Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin and Charles
+Livingston Bull. Decorations by Charles E. Hooper.
+
+A book of dog adventures as exciting as any man's exploits could be.
+Here is excitement to stir the blood and here is picturesque color to
+transport the reader to primitive scenes.
+
+
+THE SEA WOLF. Illustrated by W. J. Aylward.
+
+Told by a man whom Fate suddenly swings from his fastidious life into
+the power of the brutal captain of a sealing schooner. A novel of
+adventure warmed by a beautiful love episode that every reader will hail
+with delight.
+
+
+WHITE FANG. Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull.
+
+"White Fang" is part dog, part wolf and all brute, living in the frozen
+north; he gradually comes under the spell of man's companionship, and
+surrenders all at the last in a fight with a bull dog. Thereafter he is
+man's loving slave.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY
+
+WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE
+
+HANDSOMELY BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED.
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.
+
+
+MAVERICKS.
+
+A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose depredations
+are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One
+of the sweetest love stories ever told.
+
+
+A TEXAS RANGER.
+
+How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law into
+the mesquit, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of
+thrilling adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed
+through deadly peril to ultimate happiness.
+
+
+WYOMING.
+
+In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the
+breezy charm of "cattleland," and brings out the turbid life of the
+frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor.
+
+
+RIDGWAY OF MONTANA.
+
+The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and
+mining industries are the religion of the country. The political
+contest, the love scene, and the fine character drawing give this story
+great strength and charm.
+
+
+BUCKY O'CONNOR.
+
+Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with
+the dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash and absorbing
+fascination of style and plot.
+
+
+CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT.
+
+A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter
+feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most unusual
+woman and her love story reaches a culmination that is fittingly
+characteristic of the great free West.
+
+
+BRAND BLOTTERS.
+
+A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of
+the frontier, with all its engaging dash and vigor, with a charming love
+interest running through its 320 pages.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+ZANE GREY'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list
+
+
+THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS
+
+A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center of
+frontier warfare. Her loyal superintendent rescues her when she is
+captured by bandits. A surprising climax brings the story to a
+delightful close.
+
+
+THE RAINBOW TRAIL
+
+The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the great
+western uplands--until at last love and faith awake.
+
+
+DESERT GOLD
+
+The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends with
+the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to the girl who
+is the story's heroine.
+
+
+RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE
+
+A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon
+authority ruled. The prosecution of Jane Withersteen is the theme of the
+story.
+
+
+THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN
+
+This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones,
+known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert
+and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of deep canons and giant
+pines."
+
+
+THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT
+
+A lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young
+New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall
+become the second wife of one of the Mormons--Well, that's the problem
+of this great story.
+
+
+THE SHORT STOP
+
+The young hero, tiring of his factory grind, starts out to win fame and
+fortune as a professional ball player. His hard knocks at the start are
+followed by such success as clean sportsmanship, courage and honesty
+ought to win.
+
+
+BETTY ZANE
+
+This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful
+young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers.
+
+
+THE LONE STAR RANGER
+
+After killing a man in self defense, Buck Duane becomes an outlaw along
+the Texas border. In a camp on the Mexican side of the river, he finds a
+young girl held prisoner, and in attempting to rescue her, brings down
+upon himself the wrath of her captors and henceforth is hunted on one
+side by honest men, on the other by outlaws.
+
+
+THE BORDER LEGION
+
+Joan Randle, in a spirit of anger, sent Jim Cleve out to a lawless
+Western mining camp, to prove his mettle. Then realizing that she loved
+him--she followed him out. On her way, she is captured by a bandit band,
+and trouble begins when she shoots Kells, the leader--and nurses him to
+health again. Here enters another romance--when Joan, disguised as an
+outlaw, observes Jim, in the throes of dissipation. A gold strike, a
+thrilling robbery--gambling and gun play carry you along breathlessly.
+
+
+THE LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS, By Helen Cody Wetmore and Zane Grey
+
+The life story of Colonel William F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill," as told by
+his sister and Zane Grey. It begins with his boyhood in Iowa and his
+first encounter with an Indian. We see "Bill" as a pony express rider,
+then near Fort Sumter as Chief of the Scouts, and later engaged in the
+most dangerous Indian campaigns. There is also a very interesting
+account of the travels of "The Wild West" Show. No character in public
+life makes a stronger appeal to the imagination of America than "Buffalo
+Bill," whose daring and bravery made him famous.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY
+
+GENE STRATTON-PORTER
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+MICHAEL O'HALLORAN. Illustrated by Frances Rogers.
+
+Michael is a quick-witted little Irish newsboy, living in Northern
+Indiana. He adopts a deserted little girl, a cripple. He also assumes
+the responsibility of leading the entire rural community upward and
+onward.
+
+
+LADDIE. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.
+
+This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The story
+is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it
+is concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love affairs
+of older members of the family. Chief among them is that of Laddie and
+the Princess, an English girl who has come to live in the neighborhood
+and about whose family there hangs a mystery.
+
+
+THE HARVESTER. Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs.
+
+"The Harvester," is a man of the woods and fields, and if the book had
+nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be notable.
+But when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods," there begins a romance
+of the rarest idyllic quality.
+
+
+FRECKLES. Illustrated.
+
+Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he
+takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great
+Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to
+the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with "The
+Angel" are full of real sentiment.
+
+
+A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST. Illustrated.
+
+The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, loveable type of
+the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness
+towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of
+her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and
+unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.
+
+
+AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW. Illustrations in colors.
+
+The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The
+story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love.
+The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and
+its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all.
+
+
+THE SONG OF THE CARDINAL. Profusely illustrated.
+
+A love idea of the Cardinal bird and his mate, told with delicacy and
+humor.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+MYRTLE REED'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.
+
+
+LAVENDER AND OLD LACE.
+
+A charming story of a quaint corner of New England, where bygone romance
+finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming of love to
+the young people on the staff of a newspaper--and it is one of the
+prettiest, sweetest and quaintest of old-fashioned love stories.
+
+
+MASTER OF THE VINEYARD.
+
+A pathetic love story of a young girl, Rosemary. The teacher of the
+country school, who is also master of the vineyard, comes to know her
+through her desire for books. She is happy in his love till another
+woman comes into his life. But happiness and emancipation from her many
+trials come to Rosemary at last. The book has a touch of humor and
+pathos that will appeal to every reader.
+
+
+OLD ROSE AND SILVER.
+
+A love story,--sentimental and humorous,--with the plot subordinate to
+the character delineation of its quaint people and to the exquisite
+descriptions of picturesque spots and of lovely, old, rare treasures.
+
+
+A WEAVER OF DREAMS.
+
+This story tells of the love-affairs of three young people, with an
+old-fashioned romance in the background. A tiny dog plays an important
+role in serving as a foil for the heroine's talking ingeniousness. There
+is poetry, as well as tenderness and charm, in this tale of a weaver of
+dreams.
+
+
+A SPINNER IN THE SUN.
+
+An old-fashioned love story, of a veiled lady who lives in solitude and
+whose features her neighbors have never seen. There is a mystery at the
+heart of the book that throws over it the glamour of romance.
+
+
+THE MASTER'S VIOLIN.
+
+A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German virtuoso
+consents to take for his pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an
+aptitude for technique, but not the soul of an artist. The youth cannot
+express the love, the passion and the tragedies of life as can the
+master. But a girl comes into his life, and through his passionate love
+for her, he learns the lessons that life has to give--and his soul
+awakes.
+
+GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+       *     *     *     *     *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+  Punctuation has been made consistent.
+
+  Dialect, alternate and obsolete spellings were not changed.
+  Words ending in '-ise' and '-sing' instead of the more usual '-ize'
+  and '-zing' were  not changed, e.g. apologise instead of apologize.
+
+  Changes made for consistency within the text:
+    deleted hyphen in 'offertory-plate'
+      ... copper to the offertory plate....
+    deleted hyphen in 'parlour-maid'
+      ... Mr. Hamlin's new parlourmaid ...
+      ... from the new parlourmaid ...
+    'pollygammy' to 'polligammy'
+      ... that pretty pass, polligammy....
+    added hyphen to ale-house
+      ... seen some nice lil' ale-house ...
+      ... takes a man to the ale-house?...
+      ... drive a man to the ale-house ...
+    added hyphen to back yard
+      ... out o' sight in my back-yard."
+    deleted hyphen in 'country-side'
+      ... William Saint scoured the countryside ...
+
+  Other changes to text:
+    'monagenarian' to 'nonagenarian' ... The nonagenarian displayed ...
+    'omniverously' to 'omnivorously' ... the Parson read omnivorously...
+    'Nomconformists' to 'Nonconformists' ... the Nonconformists gird ...
+    'pallour' to 'pallor' ... seeming pallor in the ill-lit room ...
+    'mind' to 'mine' ... I wouldn't let him black mine....
+    'exigesis' to 'exegesis' ... merely Biblical exegesis ...
+    'fine' to 'time' ...In time, if Alfred donned khaki ...
+    'sentenously' to 'sententiously' ... remarked sententiously that ...
+    'immeasureably' to 'immeasurably' ... immeasurably multiplied ...
+    'telgram' to 'telegram' ... what was in the telegram,...
+    deleted hyphen from 'middle-class' ... for middle class trippers ...
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SOUL OF SUSAN YELLAM***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 36428.txt or 36428.zip *******
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