"Verrall came upstairs to me and Kate," said Charlotte, laughing more merrily than before. "He said there was somebody going to call here, he thought with a begging petition, and he did not care to see him. Would I go and put the man off? I asked him how I should put him off, and he answered, 'Any way. Say he had gone to London, if I liked.'" Was Charlotte telling truth or falsehood? That there was more in all this than met the eye was evident. It was no business, however, of George Godolphin's, neither did he make it his. "And you have really walked here all the way by yourself!" she resumed. "I am so glad! You will get well now all one way." "I don't know about getting well 'all one way,' Charlotte. The doctors have been ordering me away for the winter." "For the winter!" repeated Charlotte, her tone growing sober. "What for? Where to?" "To some place where the skies are more genial than in this cold climate of ours," replied George. "If I wish to get thoroughly well, they say, I must start off next month, September, and not return until April." "But--should you go alone?" "There's the worst of it. We poor bachelors are like stray sheep--nobody owning us, nobody caring for us." "Take somebody with you," suggested Charlotte. "That's easier said than done," said George. Charlotte threw one of her brilliant glances at him. She had risen, and was standing before him, all her attractions in full play. "There's an old saying, Mr. George Godolphin, that where there's a will, there's a way," quoth she. George made a gallant answer, and they were progressing in each other's good graces to their own content, when an interruption came to it. The same servant who had opened the door to the stranger entered. "Miss Pain, if you please, my master says will you go up to him." "I declare you make me forget everything," cried Charlotte to George, as she left the room. And picking up her King Charley, she threw it at him. "There! take care of him, Mr. George Godolphin, until I come back again." A few minutes after, George saw Mr. Verrall leave the house and cross the lawn. A servant behind him was bearing a small portmanteau and an overcoat, similar to the one the stranger had carried on his arm. Was Mr. Verrall also going to London? CHAPTER XIX. ONE STICK DISCARDED. The morning sun shone on the green lawn, on the clustering flowers, rich in many colours, sweet in their perfume, before the breakfast-room at Ashlydyat. The room itself was in shadow: as it is pleasant in summer for a room to be: but the windows stood open to the delights of outdoor life. Janet presided at the breakfast-table. She always did preside there. Thomas, Bessy, and Cecil were disposed around her; leaving the side next the windows vacant, that nothing might come between them and the view of the summer's morning. A summer that would soon be on the wane, for September was approaching.