“DEAR SIR--I have received your letter, containing a libel written by Sir Charles Bassett. My reply will be public. “Yours very truly, “RICHARD BASSETT.” “Is that all?” “Every syllable. Now mind; you never go to Hardwicke House again; Sir Charles has got you banished from that house; special damage! There never was a prettier case for a jury--the rightful heir foully slandered by the possessor of his hereditary estates.” This picture excited Bassett, and he walked about raving with malice, and longing for the time when he should stand in the witness-box and denounce his enemy. “No, no,” said Wheeler, “leave that to counsel; you must play the mild victim in the witness-box. Who is the defendant solicitor? We ought to serve the writ on him at once.” “No, no; serve it on himself.” “What for? Much better proceed like gentlemen.” Bassett got in a passion at being contradicted in everything. “I tell you,” said he, “the more I can irritate and exasperate this villain the better. Besides, he slandered me behind my back; and I'll have the writ served upon himself. I'll do everything I can to take him down. If a man wants to be my lawyer he must enter into my feelings a little.” Wheeler, to whom he was more valuable than ever now, consented somewhat reluctantly, and called at Huntercombe Hall next day with the writ, and sent in his card. Lady Bassett heard of this, and asked if it was Mr. Bassett's friend. The butler said he thought it was. Lady Bassett went to Sir Charles in his study. “Oh, my dear,” said she, “here is Mr. Bassett's lawyer.” “Well?” “Why does he come here?” “I don't know.” “Don't see him.” “Why not?” “I am so afraid of Mr. Bassett. He is our evil genius. Let me see this person instead of you. _May_ I?” “Certainly not.” “Might I see him _first,_ love?” “You will not see him at all.” “Charles!” “No, Bella; I cannot have these animals talking to my wife.” “But, dear love, I am so full of forebodings. You know, Charles, I don't often presume to meddle; but I am in torture about this man. If you receive him, may I be with you? Then we shall be two to one.” “No, no,” said Sir Charles, testily. Then, seeing her beautiful eyes fill at the refusal and the unusual tone, he relented. “You may be in hearing if you like. Open that door, and sit in the little room.” “Oh, thank you!” She stepped into the room--a very small sitting-room. She had never been in it before, and while she was examining it, and thinking how she could improve its appearance, Mr. Wheeler was shown into the study. Sir Charles received him standing, to intimate that the interview must be brief. This, and the time he had been kept waiting in the hall, roused Wheeler's bile, and he entered on his subject more bruskly than he had intended. “Sir Charles Bassett, you wrote a letter to Mr. Hardwicke, reflecting on my client, Mr. Bassett--a most unjustifiable letter.” “Keep your opinion to yourself, sir. I wrote a letter, calling him what he is.”