Thoughts of hunting distracted the Parson as he strode back to his lonely Vicarage. What a master passion it was in everybody! The Squire hunted foxes in all weathers, regardless of weather conditions. Nothing stopped him but a hard frost. His Parson hunted men and women, a more arduous chase, hounding them out of covers where dirt, ignorance, poverty and vice hid them from view. A hard frost, such as had settled on Susan Yellam, stopped him. Others hunted fame, money, position, just as ardently. And a hard frost, like this war, stopped them. When would the thaw set in for Mrs. Yellam? Upon Christmas Eve Fancy's ordeal began. Hamlin hoped and believed that tiny hands would melt the ice in an old woman's heart. Everybody knew that Susan Yellam loved children, and that her rather grim face inspired no terrors in them. She kept the large green bottle full of bull's-eyes, simply because it lured pattering feet to her door. If they trotted up too often, rebukes, not bull's-eyes, were forthcoming. A sure way to her favour, as little girls soon discovered, was to ask for a flower out of the garden. Farseeing women, over-busy on washing-days, popped torn pinafores onto their toddlers, knowing that Mrs. Yellam would be sure to take her needle and repair the damage. She could always be called upon to sit up with a sick child, provided--_bien entendu_--that she was permitted to administer her own simple medicines. Grateful mothers, with an eye upon further favours, would say to Mrs. Yellam in the presence of neighbours: "Susan Yellam saved my Daisy's life." And then Mrs. Yellam would nod majestically, accepting such artful homage as her just due. To Mrs. Yellam's great relief, Fancy suffered less than she had feared and expected. Nature was kind to this soft-boned little woman, and chloroform assuaged the fiercer pangs. But the baby seemed loath to enter so cold a world. There were long and exasperating intermittencies, which Fancy endured very patiently. Throughout these periods, when Fancy wished to talk about Alfred, Mrs. Yellam dissembled. She even went so far, in her eagerness to please and distract the patient, that she accepted the sex of the tardy infant, speaking of it as "him," to Fancy's great gratification. Finally, "He" was born at two o'clock upon Christmas Day. And, alack! the cards had not told true. _He_ was a _She_. Fancy did not know this for some time. Too exhausted to ask questions, she lay silent and still, a faint smile upon her white face, till she dozed off into a dreamless sleep. In the parlour downstairs, where a fire had been lighted in the doctor's honour, Mrs. Yellam received another blow. There had been no complications in the case; the baby was perfectly formed and normal in every way. Nevertheless, the doctor looked worried and refused such refreshment as had been provided. Obviously, too, he was in a hurry to be gone, but he lingered. "She is very weak," he said, in a low, impressive voice. "That's natural."