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