The Squire is in a pretty temper with you both, I promise you.

Here's his letter, if you'd like to see what he says of you in black and white; not that there's much white in it, egad!" It was a custom of the Squire of Crompton, unconsciously plagiarized from the Great Napoleon, to let all letters addressed to him in an unfamiliar hand answer themselves.

They were not destroyed, but lay for weeks or months unopened, until the fancy seized him to examine their contents.

He made, it was true, a gallant exception in the case of those whose superscription seemed to promise a lady correspondent; but that had not been the case with the communication from Trevethick, and hence the long interval that had elapsed before it was attended to.
Trevethick's business letters had hitherto, as was the case with all tenants of Crompton estate, been addressed to the chaplain only, so that he was unaware of this peculiarity of Carew, and had naturally construed his silence into a tacit admission of the truth of Richard's statement.
If force of language and bitterness of tone could have made up for his previous neglect, the Squire's letter was an apology in itself.

It was short, but sharp and decisive.