"Write inside the envelope 'Not home till to-morrow,'" growled the Squire, forgetting that it could not be there till the morning. But he was in an ill-humour. I wrote it at his bidding, enclosed the bank-note, and addressed the letter to Mrs. Todhetley at Crabb Cot. Tod and I went out to post it, and began laying plans as to how we should spend the evening at Worcester. The post-office is not far from the Star, as everybody knows: and though we met a fellow who used to go to school with us, a doctor's son, and stayed talking with him, not ten minutes elapsed before we were back again. And behold in that short time there was a change in the programme. Old Prothero had been in, the bargain about the wheat was concluded, and the Squire intended to start for home as soon as dinner was over. Tod resented the change. "Johnny and I were going to that advertised _séance_--or whatever they call the thing--on electro-biology, sir. It will be first-rate fun, they say." "Very sorry for you and Johnny. You'll have to go home instead. Prothero has bought the wheat: and that's all I should have had to stay here for." "At his own price!" cried Tod, rather mockingly. "No, Mr. Joe; at mine." "Well, it's an awful sell for us," grumbled Tod. "It's not so often we get a night at Worcester, that we should be done out of this chance." "The fact is, I don't feel well," said the Squire, "and should most likely have gone home, whether Prothero had come in or not. I'm afraid I have caught cold, Joe." There was not any more to be said. The Squire's colds were no joke: once he caught one, he would be downright ill; laid up for days. We went back by rail to Timberdale, and took a fly home. The next morning the Squire did not get up. Sure enough he had a cold, and was feverish. At breakfast Mrs. Todhetley said one of us should go over to South Crabb and ask Mr. Cole to call and see him. "Why, the pater hates doctors!" exclaimed Tod. "I know he does," she answered. "But I feel sure that if he would only take remedies for his colds in time, they would not be so bad as they usually are, Joseph. Who's that?" she added--for she was seated where she could not see out, and had heard the gate click. It was the postman: so I opened the glass doors. "Only one, sir," said he, handing me the letter we had posted at Worcester the previous afternoon. Mrs. Todhetley laughed as she opened it, saying it would have come sooner had we brought it with us. Looking to see that the bank-note was safe, she left it in the envelope on the breakfast-table. "You may as well get it changed for me at Salmon's," she said, handing it to Tod as we were going out, "and then I need not disturb your father. But you must make haste back, for you know I want the money."