"No, no, I cannot bear it. Oh, my head!--my head!" "Let me bathe it with the eau de Cologne," said Claire tenderly. "No, no. I cannot bear it." "Then come home," cried Burnett. "No, no," moaned his wife. "I'm so ill--so ill. Papa--couldn't I stay here to-night--my own old little room?" "Yes, yes, my darling," said Denville tenderly. "I am so ill, papa. My head throbs so if I move it." "Let her stay, Frank," said Claire sympathisingly. "Not I. What! go home without her? I'll be hanged if I do!" cried Burnett pettishly. "She'll be all right as soon as she gets out into the air. Now, May, jump up." He caught her by the arm, but May uttered a wail. "Frank, dear, you are cruel," said Claire. "You mind your own business," said the irritable little fellow sharply. "She has got to come home with me." "I--I--I can't, Frank. I am so ill." "Nonsense! Sick headache. I often have them. You've taken too much wine." "She has not had any, Frank," said Claire indignantly. "Then she ought to have had some. That's the reason. You hold your tongue. Now, madam, jump up." The MC had stood looking on, with his face working, but saying no word till now that Burnett caught his wife roughly by both hands and tried to pull her to her feet. "Stop!" he cried firmly. "Really, Frank Burnett, you are ungentle in the extreme." "Here, I know what I'm doing," he retorted. "She's my wife." "And she's my daughter, sir," cried Denville haughtily; "and while I am by no half-tipsy man shall insult her." "Half-tipsy? Who's half-tipsy? This is the result of coming here, sir." "Where I have been on thorns for the last two hours, lest my guests should see what a state you were in." "State? What do you mean?" "I will not expose you more before your young wife," said Denville quietly. "We are both angry, and had better say good-night. May, do you feel well enough to go home?" "No; oh no, papa." "You hear, Frank Burnett. Claire, you can easily get her bedroom ready." "Look here, I shan't stay," cried Burnett. "I shan't stay here." "Well, go home then. We will take care of her, you may depend." "It's all nonsense. She shall come home." "My child is not well enough to go home," retorted Denville. "Frank dear, don't be obstinate, for May's sake," said Claire. "There, go home, dear. I'll get her to bed soon, and she'll be better in the morning." Burnett looked from one to the other with his teeth set, and was about to burst out into an angry tirade; but he met the firm, cold gaze of his father-in-law fixed upon him, and it was irresistible. It literally looked him down; and, with an impatient curse, he left the house and banged the door. Directly after they heard the rattle of carriage-wheels, and May uttered a sigh of relief as she watched the MC walk round the room extinguishing the candles. "Oh, papa dear," she sobbed, "he does behave so badly to me!"