By the afternoon post on the twenty-fifth of April, a letter was delivered at Heron Dyke for Mr. Denison. It was written by the firm of Plackett, Plackett and Rex; and it informed the Squire in courteous terms--that is, in as courteous terms as lawyers can bring themselves to use--that, in accordance with the wishes of their esteemed client, Mr. Denison of Nunham Priors, Mr. Charles Plackett would present himself at the Hall at eleven o'clock on the morning of the twenty-sixth instant, with the view to satisfying himself (as a mere matter of form) that the Master of Heron Dyke had lived over his seventieth birthday. If it were not convenient to Mr. Denison of Heron Dyke to give a personal interview to Mr. Plackett at that hour, he would be good enough to name a later hour in the same day. The letter said nothing of that clause in the will of the late Gilbert Denison which gave the younger cousin power to command such an interview, for of that clause Squire Denison must himself be perfectly aware. Whether this letter put out the Squire, or not, did not appear; but it very considerably put out Aaron Stone. Aaron had not recovered his temper of the day before; the congratulatory visits to his master had annoyed him, more especially that one crowning visit of the musicians in the evening. The intimation of this additional visit from the London lawyer pretty nearly wound up Aaron. Hubert, who opened all letters in the Squire's room, came forth presently, letter in hand, leaving Dr. Jago behind him. That astute physician, while never omitting his daily visit to Heron Dyke, made it at uncertain hours, earlier or later, according to his own convenience. Old Aaron and his wife were seated at tea in their parlour; one of the maids, Eliza, having been called in to make a fresh piece of toast. She knelt before the fire with the small toasting-fork. "The Squire says you may read this," said Hubert, entering, and putting the letter in his grandfather's hands. "The people must be received, of course." Aaron shuffled on his spectacles, and went to the window for the better light, holding the letter close to the panes. When he had mastered the contents, he burst into a perfect storm of fury. Mrs. Stone started in her chair; Eliza looked round; Hubert only laughed. "A set of spies and sneaks!" he called out, bringing down his hand upon the table with such emphasis that the cups and saucers rattled. "They shall never set their prying feet inside this house; I'll bar the door first, I can tell 'em that. Lawyers indeed! No, no." "Now, grandfather, why do you go on at this foolish rate?" remonstrated Hubert. "The lawyers will not damage you. Anyway, the Squire means to see them--he has no choice." "_No choice!_" spluttered Aaron. "No, none. And if you'll go to his room presently, maybe he will tell you why. Why should he not see them--if he is well enough?" added Hubert. "You talk like an idiot," growled old Aaron.