'He, madam, of whose approach the gentleman who took his leave of you on yonder elevation informed you.' She looked artlessly over her shoulder, and at the beau alighting from his carriage.

'A gentleman ?' 'On horseback.' The duchess popped her head through the window on an impulse to measure the distance between the two hills.
'Never!' she cried.
'Why, madam, did he deliver no message to announce me ?' said the beau, ruffling.
'Goodness gracious! You must be Mr.Beamish,' she replied.
He laid his hat on his bosom, and invited her to quit her carriage for a seat beside him.

She stipulated, 'If you are really Mr.Beamish ?' He frowned, and raised his head to convince her; but she would not be impressed, and he applied to Chloe to establish his identity.

Hearing Chloe's name, the duchess called out, 'Oh! there, now, that's enough, for Chloe's my maid here, and I know she's a lady born, and we're going to be friends.

Hand me to Chloe.