Read it through once

With her father in London—the seat of his temptations—spending her hard-earned income, she grew low-spirited and ill. Her complaint, she explained in a letter to William Harness, was one brought on by anxiety, fatigue or worry, and she told him how she hesitated consulting a physician, knowing full well that his prescription would be “not to write.” The bread had to be earned and the means secured which would give her father plenty wherewith to enjoy himself. Added to this were the “levees”—as she called them—which she was forced to endure all day long by reason of the folk who came from far and near to call upon her. “Every idle person who comes within twenty miles gets a letter of introduction, or an introduction in the shape of an acquaintance, and comes to see my geraniums or myself—Heaven knows which! I have had seven carriages at once at the door of our little cottage—and this is terrible when one is not well.”