As he did not comment on the absence of the duchess, Mr.Beamish alluded to it; whereupon he was informed that she was about the meadows, and had been there for some hours.
'Not unguarded,' he replied to Mr.Beamish.
'Aha!' quoth the latter; 'we have an Argus!' and as the duchess was not on the heights, and the sun's rays were mild in cloud, he agreed to his young friend's proposal that they should advance to meet her.

Chloe walked with them, but her face was disdainful; at the stiles she gave her hand to Mr.Beamish; she did not address a word to Mr.Camwell, and he knew the reason.

Nevertheless he maintained his air of soldierly resignation to the performance of duty, and held his head like a gentleman unable to conceive the ignominy of having played spy.

Chloe shrank from him.
Duchess Susan was distinguished coming across a broad uncut meadow, tirra-lirraing beneath a lark, Caseldy in attendance on her.

She stopped short and spoke to him; then came forward, crying ingenuously.