For a month I was confined to my bed with pneumonia, and the attack so weakened me that I did not leave my room for five weeks more. During that time Mrs. Blodgett’s kindness was constant, and her face is the only memory that stands out from the hours of my acute torture. While I was convalescing, she came once, and sometimes twice, each day, bringing me flowers, fruit, jellies, wines, and whatever else her love could suggest. It was amusing to see her domineer over the doctor, trained nurse, and landlady, and I soon learned to whom to make my pleas for extra liberty or special privileges. No request, however whimsical, seemed too much for her affection, though my demands were unceasing, in the selfishness of my invalidism. Only one thing I dared not ask her, and that was not from fear that it would be refused, but from cowardice. I longed to have her speak of you, but during those weeks she never mentioned your name. The day before Mrs. Blodgett left town she took me for my first airing in her carriage, and told me that she was leaving a man and horses in town for a month longer in order that I should have a daily drive. “Mr. Blodgett really needs a carriage more in the summer than he does in the winter, but he never will consent to let me leave one for him, so I’ve used you as an excuse,” was the way she explained her kindness. “By the end of the month I hope you will be well enough to come up and make us a visit in the Berkshires, for the change will be the very best thing for you.” “I hope to be at work again by that time,” I said. “You are not to see pen or paper till the first of October!” she ordered; and when I only shook my head, she continued, “For three years you’ve been overworking yourself, and now the doctor says you must take a long rest, and I’m going to see that you have it.” “You mean to be good to me, Mrs. Blodgett,” I sighed, “but if you knew my situation, you would understand that I must get to work again as soon as possible.” “I don’t care about your situation,” she sniffed contemptuously, “and I do care about your health. I shall insist that you come up to My Fancy, if I have to come back to the city to bring you; and when I once get you there, I shan’t let you go away till I choose.” Loving my tyrant, I did not protest further, though firm in my own mind as to my duty. As it turned out, I need not have denied her, for the end of the month found me with but little added strength; and though I tried to work two or three times, I was forced to abandon the attempts without accomplishing anything. My wonder is that I gained strength at all, in my discouragement over the loss of Mr. Whitely’s work, my three months’ idleness, the heavy doctor’s bills, and the steadily accruing interest on the debt. On the 21st of June Mr. Blodgett came to see me, as indeed he had done daily since Mrs. Blodgett left town.