There were a few letters for him and he opened and read those, then lit his bed-candle and went upstairs, but instead of undressing, sat for a full quarter of an hour in his armchair thinking.

Then he spoke softly to himself.
"I think dear Mills means mischief in some way," he said.

"But really for the moment it puzzles me to know what.

However, I shall see tomorrow.

Ah, I wonder if I guess!" Then he went to bed, but contrary to custom did not get to sleep for a long time.