"I never encountered any one with so little self-command," said Mr. Sheldon. "If he is going to rush in and out of my house in that manner, I must really put a stop to his visits altogether. I cannot suffer that kind of thing. For Charlotte's welfare quiet is indispensable; and if Mr. Hawkehurst's presence is to bring noise and excitement, Mr. Hawkehurst must not cross this threshold." He spoke with suppressed anger; with such evident effort to restrain his anger, that it would have seemed as if his indignation against Valentine was no common wrath. Charlotte caught his last words. "Dear papa," she pleaded in her faint voice, "pray do not be angry with Valentine; he is so anxious about me." "I am not angry with him; but while you are ill, I will have quiet--at any price." "Then I'm sure you should not have brought Charlotte home," exclaimed Georgy, in tones of wailing and lamentation; "for of all the miseries in life, there is nothing worse than coming home in the very midst of a general cleaning. It was agreed between Ann Woolper and me that there should be a general cleaning while we were away at the seaside. We were to be away a fortnight, and everything was to be as neat as a new pin when we came home. But here we are back in less than a week, and everything at sixes-and-sevens. Where we are to dine I know not; and as for the carpets, they are all away at the beating-place, and Ann tells me they won't be home till Friday." "We can exist without carpets," answered Mr. Sheldon, in a hard dry voice. "I suppose they are seeing to Miss Halliday's room?" he added, addressing himself to Mrs. Woolper. "Why don't you go and look after them, Nancy?" "Sarah knows what she has to do. The bed-rooms was done first; and there's not much amiss in Miss Charlotte's room." Mr. Sheldon dropped wearily into a chair. He looked pale and haggard. Throughout the journey he had been unfailing in his attention to the invalid; but the journey had been fatiguing; for Charlotte Halliday was very ill--so ill as to be unable to avoid inflicting trouble upon others. The weariness--the dizziness--the dull intervals of semi-consciousness--the helpless tottering walk, which was like the walk of intoxication rather than ordinary weakness--the clouded sight--all the worst symptoms of this nameless disease, had every hour grown more alarming. Against this journey to London Mrs. Sheldon and Diana had pleaded--Georgy with as much earnestness as she could command; Diana as forcibly as she dared argue a question in which her voice had so little weight. But upon this point Mr. Sheldon was adamant.