’Because a man comes and knocks me down, I’m to go up to him and ask him to run me through!’

His shake of the head signified that he was not such a noodle.  Voluble and prolific of illustration, as is no one so much as a son of nature inspired to speak her words of wisdom, he defied the mandate, and refused himself satisfaction, until in the strangest manner possible flights of white feathers beset him, and he became a mark for persecution too trying for the friendship of his friends.  He fled, repeating his tale, that he had seen ‘Beamish’s Duchess,’ and Chloe attending her, at an assignation in the South Grove, where a gentleman, unknown to the Wells, presented himself to the adventurous ladies, and they walked together—­a tale ending with nods.

Shepster’s banishment was one of those victories of justice upon which mankind might be congratulated if they left no commotion behind.  But, as when a boy has been horsed before his comrades, dread may visit them, yet is there likewise devilry in the school; and everywhere over earth a summary punishment that does not sweep the place clear is likely to infect whom it leaves remaining.  The great law-givers, Lycurgus, Draco, Solon, Beamish, sorrowfully acknowledge that they have had recourse to infernal agents, after they have thus purified their circle of an offender.  Doctors confess to the same of their physic.  The expelling agency has next to be expelled, and it is a subtle poison, affecting our spirits.  Duchess Susan had now the incense of a victim to heighten her charms; like the treasure-laden Spanish galleon for whom, on her voyage home from South American waters, our enterprising light-craft privateers lay in wait, she had the double attraction of being desirable and an enemy.  To watch above her conscientiously was a harassing business.

Mr. Beamish sent for Chloe, and she came to him at once.  Her look was curious; he studied it while they conversed.  So looks one who is watching the sure flight of an arrow, or the happy combinations of an intrigue.  Saying, ‘I am no inquisitor, child,’ he ventured upon two or three modest inquisitions with regard to her mistress.  The title he had disguised Duchess Susan in, he confessed to rueing as the principal cause of the agitation of his principality.  ‘She is courted,’ he said, ’less like a citadel waving a flag than a hostelry where the demand is for sitting room and a tankard!  These be our manners.  Yet, I must own, a Duchess of Dewlap is a provocation, and my exclusive desire to protect the name of my lord stands corrected by the perils environing his lady.  She is other than I supposed her; she is, we will hope, an excellent good creature, but too attractive for most and drawbridge and the customary defences to be neglected.

Chloe met his interrogatory with a ready report of the young duchess’s innocence and good nature that pacified Mr. Beamish.

‘And you?’ said he.

She smiled for answer.