He described the annoyance of his incessant running about at her heels in all directions amusingly, and suggested that she must be beating the district to recover her 'strange cavalier,' of whom, or of one that had ridden beside her carriage half a day on her journey to the Wells, he said she had dropped a sort of hint.

He complained of the impossibility of his getting an hour in privacy with his Chloe.
'And I, accustomed to consult with her, see too little of her,' said Mr.
Beamish.

'I shall presently be seeing nothing, and already I am sensible of my loss.' He represented his case to Duchess Susan:--that she was for ever driving out long distances and taking Chloe from him, when his occupation precluded his accompanying them; and as Chloe soon was to be lost to him for good, he deeply felt her absence.
The duchess flung him enigmatical rejoinders: 'You can change all that, Mr.Beamish, if you like, and you know you can.

Oh, yes, you can.

But you like being a butterfly, and when you've made ladies pale you're happy: and there they're to stick and wither for you.