Whether George St. John had eaten too much at that memorable birthday dinner, or whether the shock and horror of seeing Benja, as he had seen him, was telling upon his system, certain it was the child had declined from that night. Mr. Pym had treated him for indigestion, and he seemed a little better for a few days, but the improvement did not continue. Never again was he the merry boy he had been: fractious, irritable, and mourning incessantly for Benja; his spirits failed, his appetite would not return. _He_ had not derived benefit from the change of scene any more than his mother, and that, Mrs. Darling on her arrival saw. "What can be the matter with him?" was the first question Mrs. St. John addressed to her mother, and the anxiety visible in the wild eyes alarmed Mrs. Darling. "Charlotte, calm yourself, my dear; indeed there is no cause for uneasiness. I think you have moved him about too much; children want repose at times as well as we do. The quiet of the Hall and Mr. Pym's care will soon bring him round. We will go back at once." "I am not going back to the Hall," said Charlotte. "Not going back!" repeated Mrs. Darling. "Not at present." "My dear Charlotte, you must go back. How is the Hall to get on at Christmas without you?" "Must?" significantly returned Charlotte. "I am my own mistress; accountable to none." "Of course, my love; of course. But, Charlotte"--and Mrs. Darling seemed unduly anxious--"it is right that you should spend Christmas there. Georgy is the heir now." "He is the possessor," said Charlotte, calmly. "He is the possessor of Alnwick, he will be the inheritor of more; he will be Sir George Carleton St. John--as his father would have been had he but lived." "Yes," said Mrs. Darling, stealing a side glance at her daughter, who was resting her cheek upon her slender fingers, her gaze fixed upwards. "But, mamma, I wish now it were Benja; I wish Georgy was as he used to be. I think a complete change of scene may do him good," she added after a pause, "and I shall take him abroad: immediately: for perhaps a year." Mrs. Darling stood aghast. "But, what's to become of the Hall? what's to be done with it?" "Anything," was the indifferent reply. "It is mine to do what I choose with--that is, it's Georgy's--and who is to question me? Live in it yourself, if you like; let it; leave servants in it; I don't care. Georgy is my only care now, mamma, and I shall take him abroad to get him strong."