Camwell was in the ante-room as Chloe passed out behind the two
incensed supporters of Duchess Susan.
'I shall be by the fir-trees on the Mount at eight this evening,' she
said.
'I will be there,' he replied.
'Drive Mr. Beamish into the country, that these gentlemen may have time
to cool.'
He promised her it should be done.
Close on the hour of her appointment, he stood under the fir-trees,
admiring the sunset along the western line of hills, and when Chloe
joined him he spoke of the beauty of the scene.
'Though nothing seems more eloquently to say farewell,' he added, with a
sinking voice.
'We could say it now, and be friends,' she answered.
'Later than now, you think it unlikely that you could forgive me, Chloe.'
'In truth, sir, you are making it hard for me.'
'I have stayed here to keep watch; for no pleasure of my own,' said he.
'Mr. Beamish is an excellent protector of the duchess.'
'Excellent; and he is cleverly taught to suppose she fears him greatly;
and when she offends him, he makes a display of his Jupiter's awfulness,
with the effect on woman of natural spirit which you have seen, and
others had foreseen, that she is exasperated and grows reckless.
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