Wogan folded the paper, and with a bow held it out to her ladyship; again she hesitated; she did not take the sheet; she looked into Wogan's face as though she would read the news-sheet there. Curious smiles began to show upon the faces about her, heads to nod, lips to whisper.
'Shall I oblige your ladyship?' asked Mr. Methuen, who stood by.
'If you please,' replied Lady Oxford, but in a less certain tone than she had used before.
Mr. Methuen took the sheet from Wogan's hand, unfolded it, and glanced at it.
'It is indeed scarce fit for your ladyship's ears,' he said; and in his turn he folded it.
The smiles broadened, the whispers increased. Lady Oxford was altogether disconcerted.
'I will read it,' a young voice rang out. Lord Sidney Beauclerk stepped forward, took the sheet from Mr. Methuen, and at once read it aloud. He began defiantly, but towards the end his voice faltered. Mr. Kelly did not turn round, and seemed to pay no heed whatever.
'They write from Paris that a foul Plot against the Throne, and even the sacred Person of His Most Gracious Majesty hath been discovered. In Town, it is thought that a Lady of great Beauty who has a Tory Lord of advanced years and gouty Habit to her Husband, and a young Whig Officer of great Promise for her Friend, hath given the Intelligence to the Minister. Nobody has yet been taken, but the Gentry of the Silver Greyhound are thought to have their eyes on a certain Reverend Nonjuror. We say no more for the present.'
Lord Sidney crumpled up the sheet, and retiring from the circle, slowly tore it in pieces.
'To be sure, they say quite enough,' murmured Lady Mary, and no one else spoke, but all looked to Lady Oxford.