Tor was so far settled down in his new life, and to his assumed character, that he played the part quite naturally and without any effort. He was interested in the farm-work upon the estate, and entered into it with great zest. He had been long enough in America to learn the use and value of machines almost unknown to the rustic population of Ladywell, and he made a few daring innovations, which were at first the laughing-stock, and then the wonder and admiration of all the people round. Certainly his management, combined with the good season, made agricultural matters look up again; and the bailiff told him, with wonder and delight, that this year he believed the farm would pay its way, and not be a loss. He was disappointed that Tor was not as rapturously enthusiastic at this news as he should have been, and discovered that the young squire laboured under the delusion that farms were profitable concerns. But the quiet course of country life never seemed to run smoothly for very long together. Tor was not permitted to enjoy Phil’s rights undisturbed for any protracted period. The next blow was dealt him from quite an unexpected quarter. One day he received by the morning’s post a letter bearing the postmark ‘Whitbury.’ It was a square envelope, in thick, creamy paper, and bore a handsome coat-of-arms upon it, in place of a crest, by which Tor imagined his correspondent to be a lady, and a lady of some social standing. He turned the letter over and over, with a puzzled expression of countenance. ‘Whitbury, Whitbury,’ he mused; ‘surely that name is familiar—it seems associated with my dim recollections of my father. Why, yes, I have it now. That is the name of the place where I was born—where that house of mine is. To be sure that’s it. But who can be writing to Phil from there? It can’t surely be on any business of mine. The agent sees to all that. I know nothing about it. Well, I’d better open the letter and see.’ Suiting the action to the words, Tor cut open the envelope, and read the missive enclosed. ‘SIR, ‘I have been informed by Mr. Torwood’s agent that during some indisposition, from which he is suffering, you are acting for him in a business capacity. To you, then, I must appeal upon a matter of business which threatens to become pressing. ‘I am a tenant of Mr. Torwood’s, and the lease of this house, which I have occupied for twenty-eight years, is all but run out. I am anxious to renew it, and that upon equitable terms; but I do not like Mr. Torwood’s agent, and I am sure he will not fairly represent to his client the state of the case, and will propose terms which are only advantageous to him, without being just to me. I always do dislike middle-men, and I am quite determined that this matter shall be settled without having recourse to them.