er rivalry
with Beauchamp, he fixed his mind on the widow, and as Beauchamp did not
stand in his way, but on the contrary might help him--for she, like the
generality of women, admired Nevil Beauchamp in spite of her feminine
good sense and conservatism--Cecil began to regard the man he felt
less opposed to with some recognition of his merits. The two nephews
accompanied Lord Avonley to London, and slept at his town-house.

They breakfasted together the next morning on friendly terms. Half an
hour afterward there was an explosion; uncle and nephews were scattered
fragments: and if Cecil was the first to return to cohesion with his
lord and chief, it was, he protested energetically, common policy in
a man in his position to do so: all that he looked for being a decent
pension and a share in the use of the town-house. Old Nevil, he related,
began cross-examining him and entangling him with the cunning of the
deuce, in my lord's presence, and having got him to make an admission,
old Nevil flung it at the baron, and even crossed him and stood before
him when he was walking out of the room. A furious wrangle took place.
Nevil and the baron gave it to one another unmercifully. The end of it
was that all three flew apart, for Cecil confessed to having a temper,
and in contempt of him for the admission wrung out of him, Lord Avonley
had pricked it. My lord went down to Steynham, Beauchamp to Holdesbury,
and Captain Baskelett to his quarters; whence in a few days he repaired
penitently to my lord--the most placable of men when a full submission
was offered to him.

Beauchamp did nothing of the kind. He wrote a letter to Steynham in the
form of an ultimatum.

This egregious letter was handed to Rosamund for a proof of
her darling's lunacy. She in conversation with Stukely Culbrett
unhesitatingly accused Cecil of plotting his cousin's ruin.

Mr. Culbrett thought it possible that Cecil had been a little more than
humorous in the part he had played in the dispute, and spoke to him.

Then it came out that Lord Avonley had also delivered an ultimatum to
Beauchamp.

Time enough had gone by for Cecil to forget his ruffling, and relish the
baron's grandly comic spirit in appropriating that big word Apology, and
demanding it from Beauchamp on behalf of the lady ruling his household.
What could be funnier than the knocking of Beauchamp's blunderbuss out
of his hands, and pointing the muzzle at him!

Cecil dramatized the fun to amus