He forgot not the manner, look, and tone, with which Tyrrel had checked his unauthorized intrusion; and though he had sunk beneath it at the moment, the recollection rankled in his heart as an affront to be avenged.

As he drank his wine, courage, the want of which was, in his more sober moments, a check upon his bad temper, began to inflame his malignity, and he ventured upon several occasions to show his spleen, by contradicting Tyrrel more flatly than good manners permitted upon so short an acquaintance, and without any provocation.

Tyrrel saw his ill humour and despised it, as that of an overgrown schoolboy, whom it was not worth his while to answer according to his folly.
One of the apparent causes of the Baronet's rudeness was indeed childish enough.

The company were talking of shooting, the most animating topic of conversation among Scottish country gentlemen of the younger class, and Tyrrel had mentioned something of a favourite setter, an uncommonly handsome dog, from which he had been for some time separated, but which he expected would rejoin him in the course of next week.
"A setter!" retorted Sir Bingo, with a sneer; "a pointer I suppose you mean ?" "No, sir," said Tyrrel; "I am perfectly aware of the difference betwixt a setter and a pointer, and I know the old-fashioned setter is become unfashionable among modern sportsmen.

But I love my dog as a companion, as well as for his merits in the field; and a setter is more sagacious, more attached, and fitter for his place on the hearth-rug, than a pointer--not," he added, "from any deficiency of intellects on the pointer's part, but he is generally so abused while in the management of brutal breakers and grooms, that he loses all excepting his professional accomplishments, of finding and standing steady to game." "And who the d----l desires he should have more ?" said Sir Bingo.
"Many people, Sir Bingo," replied Tyrrel, "have been of opinion, that both dogs and men may follow sport indifferently well, though they do happen, at the same time, to be fit for mixing in friendly intercourse in society." "That is for licking trenchers, and scratching copper, I suppose," said the Baronet, _sotto voce_; and added, in a louder and more distinct tone,--"He never before heard that a setter was fit to follow any man's heels but a poacher's." "You know it now then, Sir Bingo," answered Tyrrel; "and I hope you will not fall into so great a mistake again." The Peace-maker here seemed to think his interference necessary, and, surmounting his tactiturnity, made the following pithy speech:--"By Cot! and do you see, as you are looking for my opinion, I think there is no dispute in the matter--because, by Cot! it occurs to me, d'ye see, that ye are both right, by Cot! It may do fery well for my excellent friend Sir Bingo, who hath stables, and kennels, and what not, to maintain the six filthy prutes that are yelping and yowling all the tay, and all the neight too, under my window, by Cot!--And if they are yelping and yowling there, may I never die but I wish they were yelping and yowling somewhere else.