e. I need a change, too. Couldn't we three go off
together, and do something _nice_? I've had nothing but seaside
holidays with the babies since we were married. A month in Switzerland,
in high, bracing air, in good hotels, among the mountains--oh, how good
it sounds. Say yes, Rob, like a darling. I _want_ it so!"

But Robert did not speak. It was the first time in the history of their
acquaintance that Vanna had known him show even a moment's hesitation in
granting a request from Jean's lips, and _she_ looked at him in
surprise. Distress was written upon his face, and a wistful appeal for
forgiveness, but stronger than all, an air of decision which gave no
promise of weakening.

"I'm sorry, darling; but it's impracticable. It will be hard enough to
squeeze out any holiday this year; an extra trip abroad is out of the
question. Expenses have been heavy lately"--he shrugged his shoulders
with a smile. "They always _are_ heavy, somehow, and we must be careful
not to launch into fresh extravagance."

"We have _not_ been extravagant. The money has gone in uninteresting,
disagreeable _necessities_. No one can call a doctor's bill
extravagance, or a new cistern, or stair carpets. _Au contraire_, we've
been so dull and prudent that it would be a tonic to spend a little
money on fun, for a change. Can't we manage it, somehow, Rob? Do!
Sell a share, or something. It _would_ be a treat."

The lines on Robert's face deepened suddenly; his smile flickered out.

"No; I've done that too often. That must come to an end. My shares are
painfully near an end. I'm sorry, dear, but it's impossible."

Jean shrugged her shoulders. The lines deepened on her face also, and
her lip quivered with disappointment, but she made no fruitless
protestation. For the rest of the meal she was silent, leaving the
conversation to be carried on by Vanna and Robert; but before leaving
the room she went out of her way to pass Robert's chair and lay a
caressing hand on his shoulder.

He lifted his face to her with the old adoring expression in his brown
eyes, and the tired lines disappeared from his brow. He had kept up the
conversation out of consideration for Vanna's feelings, but his
attention had really been engrossed by Jean, and his own regrets at
being obliged to refuse her request. Now he evidently felt himself
forgiven, and was transparently grateful for his wife's forbearance.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

DISASTER.