She made up the fire again, slipped off her austere black gown, and put on a dressing-gown, an ancient garment known to many mothers in Nether-Applewhite. Draped in this, with list sandals on her feet, you might have taken Susan for a Roman matron. Hamlin, who had seen her thus arrayed, nearly addressed her as "Cornelia." An hour or more may have passed, during which time the gale began to rage itself out. Lulls succeeded roaring blasts. Mrs. Yellam felt no inclination to sleep; she became, instead, sensible of alertness, a quickening of sensibilities and senses. Her hearing, still acute, became painfully so. The patter of the rain upon the windows irritated her; when it stopped, she missed it, and wanted it to begin again. And then a strange thing happened, strange only when taken in connection with what followed. Solomon woke up, jumped lightly from the bed, and went to the door. He had been let out, as usual, some two hours previously. Mrs. Yellam held up a finger, enjoining silence. Solomon lay down, head up, staring at the door, alert, as Mrs. Yellam was, expectant, with ears cocked as if he heard something or somebody. "What is it, Solly?" she whispered. He paid no attention. If the cottage had not been surrounded by water, Mrs. Yellam might have considered the probability of tramps trying to find shelter in the barn. She would not have been alarmed. Her cottage was tramp-proof and at this moment an island fortress. At the same time, she knew that her heart was beating faster; an indefinable fear assailed her, something she had never experienced before. She started violently. Fancy was sitting up in bed, her cheeks flushed with colour, her eyes dancing, her arms outstretched. "I hear him," she exclaimed. "Don't you, Mother?" "Lie down, child; lie down." "It's Alfred. Let him in!" Mrs. Yellam did not move. Fancy, she decided, was light-headed. She hesitated, fearing to excite her, willing to humour her, provided she made no attempt to leave her bed. "He's coming upstairs." She no longer looked at Mrs. Yellam; her eyes remained upon the bedroom door. So strange a light shone in those eyes that Mrs. Yellam began to question her own sanity, not Fancy's. Solomon never moved. The suspense became unendurable. But Mrs. Yellam remained in her chair, ready to spring to her feet, if Fancy left the bed. Solomon got up, whined, turned from the door, and jumped into Mrs. Yellam's lap. He was trembling. At the same moment she heard Fancy's voice, strong and exultant: "Alfie!--I knew you'd come." Her speech became broken and faltering: "I did want you, as never was. It was awful going through it without you. And it's a She--what you wanted. How lovely you look! Kiss me again! Hold me tight! If you don't, I--I may slip off...."