She said no more then, but went back and chopped faster than ever. Tod and I had got up to go when she came in again.
“The odd part about it is their putting in a note for the same value,” cried she. “I never heard of such a thing as that. Why not spend the other note, and make no bother over it?”
“You would be quite justified in doing so under the circumstances, Mr. Todhetley,” said the quieter husband.
“But we can’t,” returned Tod, hotly—and all but said more than he was to say.
“Why not?” asked she.
“Because it’s not ours; there, Mrs. Rymer.”
“Well, I know what I’d say—if the chance was given me,” returned she, resenting Tod’s manner. “That the note found in the letter was the one put into it at Worcester. Changed in the post! It does not stand to reason.”
“But, my dear——” her husband was beginning.
“Now, Thomas Rymer, that’s what I think: and so would you, if you had a grain of sense beyond a gander’s. And now good-morning, young gents: my pudding won’t get done for dinner at this rate.”