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."