The beau took high
ground in his objections to the adventure. Nevertheless, Duchess Susan
did go. She drove to the heath at an early hour of the morning, attended
by Chloe, Colonel Poltermore, and Caseldy. They subsequently breakfasted
at an inn where gipsy repasts were occasionally served to the fashion,
and they were back at the wells as soon as the world was abroad. Their
surprise then was prodigious when Mr. Beamish, accosting them full in
assembly, inquired whether they were satisfied with the report of their
fortunes, and yet more when he positively proved himself acquainted with
the fortunes which had been recounted to each of them in privacy.
'You, Colonel Poltermore, are to be in luck's way up to the tenth
milestone,--where your chariot will overset and you will be lamed for
life.'
'Not quite so bad,' said the Colonel cheerfully, he having been informed
of much better.
'And you, Count Caseldy, are to have it all your own way with good luck,
after committing a deed of slaughter, with the solitary penalty of
undergoing a visit every night from the corpse.'
'Ghost,' Caseldy smilingly corrected him.
'And Chloe would not have her fortune told, because she knew it!'
Mr. Beamish cast a paternal glance at her. 'And you, madam,' he bent
his brows on the duchess, 'received the communication that "All for Love"
will sink you as it raised you, put you down as it took you up, furnish
the feast to the raven gentleman which belongs of right to the golden
eagle?'
'Nothing of the sort! And I don't believe in any of their stories,'
cried the duchess, with a burning face.
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