The sun set, and Reuben had given up even the attempt to work. He wandered on Boarzell till the outline of its crest was lost in the black pit of night. Then a new anxiety began to fret him. Possibly all was going well since everybody said so, but--suppose the child was a girl! Up till now he had scarcely thought of such a thing, he had made sure that his child would be a boy, someone to help him in his struggle and to reap the fruits of it after he was gone. But, suppose, after all, it should be a girl! Quite probably it would be--why should he think it would not? The sweat stood on Reuben's forehead. Then suddenly he saw something white moving in the darkness. It was coming towards him. It was his mother's apron. He ran to meet her, for his legs tottered so that he could not walk. He could not frame his question, but she answered it: "All's well ... it's a boy." § 3. Naomi spent a peaceful and happy convalescence. Everything combined for her blessedness. The soft April days scattered their scent and sunshine on her bed, where she lay with her baby, full of drowsy hopes. Even Boarzell's firs had a mellowness about them, as if her motherhood had sweetened not only herself and those about her, but the grim face of nature militant. Her memories of those days were full of the smell of daffodils blown in at her window from the garden and of primroses set by Reuben in a bowl beside the bed--of Reuben stooping over her, smoothing back her hair, and stroking her face with hands that quivered strangely, or holding the baby as if it were made of fire and glass. As soon as she was well enough the christening took place in Peasmarsh church. The heir of all the Backfields was important enough to receive three Christian names--Reuben after his father, Thomas after old Gasson, and Albert after the Prince Consort. "I shall call him Albert," said Naomi. That spring and summer Reuben worked with a light heart. His fatherhood made him proud and expansive. He would boast about the baby to Beatup, tell him how many ounces it had gained in the week, enlarge on its strength and energy, with intimate details concerning its digestion--all of which were received open-mouthed by Beatup who knew pretty well as much about babies as he did about oecumenical councils. "He'll soon be able to do a bit of work wud us, Beatup," said Reuben apocalyptically.--"I'll have him on when he's ten or thereabouts, and at fifteen he'll be doing full man's work. I shouldn't wonder as how I'd never want another hand but you--we could manage the pläace, I reckon, till the lad's old enough, and then there'll be others...." "Yus, Mäaster," said Beatup.