The next year passed slowly and heavily. In the spring Jean had an illness which made it necessary for her to spend several months on the sofa--a decree which she accepted with extraordinary resignation. Nothing could have demonstrated so powerfully the change which the last seven years had wrought in her physical condition as this willingness to be shut off from social life. "I've been so tired," she confided in Vanna, letting her head fall back on the pillow, and closing her eyes with a long-drawn sigh, "so tired, that it's been a struggle to get through each day. It's bliss to be lazy, and to feel that one is justified. When I wake up in the morning and remember that I needn't get up for breakfast, I could whoop with joy. The doctor expected me to rebel. Goodness! I wonder how many thousand tired women would hail such a prescription--to lie in bed until eleven; dress quietly, and go down to the sofa; read amusing books; have a friend to tea; sleep again, to be fresh for the husband's return; to bed at nine; and _you must not be worried_! My dear, it's Heaven begun below! I don't say I should like it as a permanency, but as a change from general servants' work (which is plain English for a middle-class wife and mother) it is highly refreshing. We'll have to get an extra maid, of course. I've worked like a slave to keep the house as it must be kept if I'm to have any peace in life. We have such heaps of silver and in town it needs constant cleaning, and the mending is everlasting, and the making for the children, _and_ the shopping, and helping in the nursery to set nurse free to do some washing. The laundry bills are ruinous; but you _must_ have children in white! It's a nuisance having to spend more. It always happens like that with us. Just as we say, `the next quarter must be lighter; we shall need nothing new,' bang comes another big drain, and sends us back farther than ever. Money _is_ a trial! You don't half realise how much you are saved by having a comfortable income, Vanna. That's a _big_ blessing, and you ought to be thankful for it." Vanna considered. No! she was not actively thankful. When at any special moment the subject was brought before her, she could indeed realise the benefit of a sufficiency of money, which enabled her to choose and carry on the work which was most congenial; but as a rule the accustomed good was calmly taken for granted, and brought no feeling of joy. She made a mental note, and passed on to the consideration of Jean's problem. "Couldn't you contrive to reduce work while you are laid up, dear? Lock up all the silver that is not absolutely needed, and let the children wear coloured overalls. I'd make them for you, of a pretty, becoming blue, which would save half their washing. You might shut up the drawing-room, too. You can't entertain, and you are comfier here in the den. It would be so nice if you could avoid extra help. Another servant in the house would be a trial."