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 amuse Mr. Culbrett.  Apparently Beauchamp had been staggered on hearing himself asked for the definite article he claimed.  He had made a point of speaking of the Apology.  Lord Avonley did likewise.  And each professed to exact it for a deeply aggrieved person:  each put it on the ground that it involved the other’s rightful ownership of the title of gentleman.

“’An apology to the amiable and virtuous Mistress Culling?” says old Nevil:  “an apology? what for?”—­“For unbecoming and insolent behaviour,” says my lord.’

‘I am that lady’s friend,’ Stukely warned Captain Baskelett.  ’Don’t let us have a third apology in the field.’

’Perfectly true; you are her friend, and you know what a friend of mine she is,’ rejoined Cecil.  ’I could swear “that lady” flings the whole affair at me.  I give you my word, old Nevil and I were on a capital footing before he and the baron broke up.  I praised him for tickling the aristocracy.  I backed him heartily; I do now; I’ll do it in Parliament.  I know a case of a noble lord, a General in the army, and he received an intimation that he might as well attend the Prussian cavalry manoeuvres last Autumn on the Lower Rhine or in Silesia—­no matter where.  He couldn’t go:  he was engaged to shoot birds!  I give you my word.  Now there I see old Nevil ’s right.  It ’s as well we should know something about the Prussian and Austrian cavalry, and if our aristocracy won’t go abroad to study cavalry, who is to? no class in the kingdom understands horses as they do.  My opinion is, they’re asleep.  Nevil should have stuck to that, instead of trying to galvanize the country and turning against his class.  But fancy old Nevil asked for the Apology!  It petrified him.  “I’ve told her nothing but the truth,” says Nevil.  “Telling the truth to women is an impertinence,” says my lord.  Nevil swore he’d have a revolution in the country before he apologized.’