The Soul of Susan Yellam

by Horace Annesley Vachell

"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."