The Tale of Chloe | Page 6

who were to balance or cancel one another in the opposite
nature of their supplies, and the haberdasher and the jeweller, with
whom she was to make her purchases. For the duke had a recollection
of giddy shops, and of giddy shopmen too; and it was by serving as one
for a day that a certain great nobleman came to victory with a jealously
guarded dame beautiful as Venus. 'I would have challenged the
goddess!' he cried, and subsided from his enthusiasm plaintively, like a
weak wind instrument. 'So there you see the prudence of a choice of
shops. But I leave it to you, Beamish.' Similarly the great military
commander, having done whatsoever a careful prevision may suggest
to insure him victory, casts himself upon Providence, with the hope of
propitiating the unanticipated and darkly possible.
CHAPTER III
The splendid equipage of a coach and six, with footmen in scarlet and
green, carried Beau Beamish five miles along the road on a sunny day
to meet the young duchess at the boundary of his territory, and conduct
her in state to the Wells. Chloe sat beside him, receiving counsel with
regard to her prospective duties. He was this day the consummate beau,

suave, but monarchical, and his manner of speech partook of his
external grandeur. 'Spy me the horizon, and apprise me if somewhere
you distinguish a chariot,' he said, as they drew up on the rise of a hill
of long descent, where the dusty roadway sank between its brown
hedges, and crawled mounting from dry rush-spotted hollows to corn
fields on a companion height directly facing them, at a remove of about
three- quarters of a mile. Chloe looked forth, while the beau passingly
raised his hat for coolness, and murmured, with a glance down the
sultry track: 'It sweats the eye to see!'
Presently Chloe said, 'Now a dust blows. Something approaches. Now I
discern horses, now a vehicle; and it is a chariot!'
Orders were issued to the outriders for horns to be sounded.
Both Chloe and Beau Beamish wrinkled their foreheads at the
disorderly notes of triple horns, whose pealing made an acid in the air
instead of sweetness.
'You would say, kennel dogs that bay the moon!' said the wincing beau.
'Yet, as you know, these fellows have been exercised. I have had them
out in a meadow for hours, baked and drenched, to get them rid of their
native cacophony. But they love it, as they love bacon and beans. The
musical taste of our people is in the stage of the primitive appetite for
noise, and for that they are gluttons.'
'It will be pleasant to hear in the distance,' Chloe replied.
'Ay, the extremer the distance, the pleasanter to hear. Are they
advancing?'
'They stop. There is a cavalier at the window. Now he doffs his hat.'
'Sweepingly?'
Chloe described a semicircle in the grand manner.
The beau's eyebrows rose. 'Powers divine !' he muttered. 'She is let

loose from hand to hand, and midway comes a cavalier. We did not
count on the hawks. So I have to deal with a cavalier! It signifies, my
dear Chloe, that I must incontinently affect the passion if I am to be his
match: nothing less.'
'He has flown,' said Chloe.
'Whom she encounters after meeting me, I care not,' quoth the beau,
snapping a finger. 'But there has been an interval for damage with a
lady innocent as Eve. Is she advancing?'
'The chariot is trotting down the hill. He has ridden back. She has no
attendant horseman.'
'They were dismissed at my injunction ten miles off particularly to the
benefit of the cavaliering horde, it would appear. In the case of a
woman, Chloe, one blink of the eyelids is an omission of watchfulness.'
'That is an axiom fit for the harem of the Grand Signior.'
'The Grand Signior might give us profitable lessons for dealing with the
sex.'
'Distrust us, and it is a declaration of war!'
'Trust you, and the stopper is out of the smelling-bottle.'
'Mr. Beamish, we are women, but we have souls.'
'The pip in the apple whose ruddy cheek allures little Tommy to rob the
orchard is as good a preservative.'
'You admit that men are our enemies?'
'I maintain that they carry the banner of virtue.'
'Oh, Mr. Beamish, I shall expire.'
'I forbid it in my lifetime, Chloe, for I wish to die believing in one

woman.'
'No flattery for me at the expense of my sisters!'
'Then fly to a hermitage; for all flattery is at somebody's expense, child.
'Tis an essence-extract of humanity! To live on it, in the fashion of
some people, is bad--it is downright cannibal. But we may sprinkle our
handkerchiefs with it, and we should, if we would caress