to hold it out for her retainer to kiss, but contenting herself by giving it a slight wave towards the door.
“Good-morning, Mr Sydney. A delicious morning, sir; a nice breeze.”
“Oh, was it?” said the boy, rather surlily.
“Yes, sir; the trout were rising freely as I passed over the bridge in the lower meadows.”
“Humph!”
“I thought I would mention it, sir. I fancy the May-fly are up.”
Sydney nodded, and the steward reached the door, but returned, taking out his pocket-book, after placing the black bag upon a chair.
“I beg your ladyship’s pardon, but I omitted to show your ladyship a paragraph I cut out of this morning’s county paper.”
Lady Lisle took the scrap handed to her respectfully. “Thank you, Mr Trimmer. Oh! Yes. Listen, Sydney, my dear. Listen. This will interest you. Electioneering!” and she read aloud—
“‘We understand that Mr Watcombe, the well-known London brewer—’” Her ladyship stopped and frowned.