Richard had expected this to happen sooner or later, so he was comparatively prepared, and bowed stiffly to Sir Charles. Sir Charles stared at him in return. This was observed. People were uncomfortable, especially Mrs. Hardwicke, whose thoughtlessness was to blame for it all. At a very early hour Sir Charles ordered his carriage, and drove home, instead of staying all night. Mrs. Hardwicke, being a fool, must make a little more mischief. She blubbered to her husband, and he wrote Sir Charles a remonstrance. Sir Charles replied that he was the only person aggrieved; Mr. Hardwicke ought not to have invited a blackguard to meet _him._ Mr. Hardwicke replied that he had never heard a Bassett called a blackguard before, and had seen nothing in Mr. Bassett to justify an epithet so unusual among gentlemen. “And, to be frank with you, Sir Charles,” said he, “I think this bitterness against a poor gentleman, whose estates you are so fortunate as to possess, is not consistent with your general character, and is, indeed, unworthy of you.” To this Sir Charles Bassett replied: “DEAR MR. HARDWICK--You have applied some remarks to me which I will endeavor to forget, as they were written in entire ignorance of the truth. But if we are to remain friends, I expect you to believe me when I tell you that Mr. Richard Bassett has never been wronged by me or mine, but has wronged me and Lady Bassett deeply. He is a dishonorable scoundrel, not entitled to be received in society; and if, after this assurance, you receive him, I shall never darken your doors again. So please let me know your decision. “I remain “Yours truly, “CHARLES DYKE BASSETT.” Mr. Hardwicke chafed under this; but Prudence stepped in. He was one of the county members, and Sir Charles could command three hundred votes. He wrote back to say he had received Sir Charles's letter with pain, but, of course, he could not disbelieve him, and therefore he should invite Mr. Bassett no more till the matter was cleared. But Mr. Hardwicke, thus brought to book, was nettled at his own meanness; so he sent Sir Charles's letter to Mr. Richard Bassett. Bassett foamed with rage, and wrote a long letter, raving with insults, to Sir Charles. He was in the act of directing it when Wheeler called on him. Bassett showed him Sir Charles's letter. Wheeler read it. “Now read what I say to him in reply.” Wheeler read Bassett's letter, threw it into the fire, and kept it there with the poker. “Lucky I called,” said he, dryly. “Saved you a thousand pounds or so. You must not write a letter without me.” “What, am I to sit still and be insulted? You're a pretty friend.” “I am a wise friend. This is a more serious matter than you seem to think.” “Libel?” “Of course. Why, if Sir Charles had consulted _me,_ I could not have dictated a better letter. It closes every chink a defendant in libel can creep out by. Now take your pen and write to Mr. Hardwicke.”