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."