This letter made the world seem cold to George, who strongly suspected Percy had dictated the punitory clauses. It was clear that his reign as first gentleman of Highfield was over. Not being of that faint-hearted disposition which abdicates without a struggle, George wrote a touching letter which was also, he considered, a complete vindication of his conduct; for, as Mrs. Drake must have been aware, he had suffered from his spine since childhood. Then he packed his belongings and travelled an hour's journey into the next parish, where he arranged with the landlord of a wayside inn, which bore the hospitable title of "Drink and be Thankful," to accommodate him with board and lodging upon especially reduced terms; and from this alcoholic address he despatched a daily apology for his existence to Mrs. Drake, each document more poignant than the one preceding it. His aunt sent a cheque for a quarter's allowance, which George cashed gratefully; but she did not write. That business was entrusted to Percy, who sent an ultimatum, giving George forty-eight hours to retire from the "Drink and be Thankful," and warning him that, if at any future time he should be discovered within twenty miles of Highfield village without obtaining a permit, his prospects would be marred considerably. George pronounced a malediction against Percy and all his tomatoes. Then, as compliance seemed necessary--for he was terribly afraid his aunt might destroy her will--he decided to make a farewell visit to Highfield, in order that he might muse amid the scenes of his former slothfulness, and inform the villagers he was going away to oppose on their behalf the promoters of the Dartmoor Railway Company. George was not surprised to discover the door of Windward House standing open, as he supposed Bessie would be cleaning; but he was considerably astonished to behold Miss Yard nodding in the parlour, with Nellie on her knees hard by extracting the indifferent lady from a web of wool which, with amazing thoroughness, she had wound about herself. George made a sign to the girl not to disturb her mistress, but to follow him as soon as possible into the garden. "What's the meaning of this?" he asked, hastily, adding that he was not at all sorry to see her. "Miss Sophy was so miserable I had to bring her back. When we went away she thought she was going back to her old home; and then, when she couldn't recognise anybody she kept on saying she was forsaken. She would stop people in the street and ask them where she lived, and if they didn't remember her. As she got worse every day I had to bring her back. Aren't you living here now?" asked Nellie. "No," said George sadly. "You gave me no encouragement." "So you waited until I was out of the house, and then you ran away!" "My aunt and I have now agreed to differ. How did you leave her?" asked George pompously. "Oh, very well. In fact, Kezia said she had not seen her in such good health for years."