That lord read the letter of Sir Thomas (he was the King's physician) with, it seemed, some relief.
"Why, he merely saith the Queen is not well."
William answered hoarsely—
"Lady Temple came to Whitehall this morning when you were abroad ... you know she hath never had the smallpox." His voice broke; he stared out of the window at the winter sky.
"God in Heaven!" exclaimed Portland. "You do not think of that?"
"Lady Temple," muttered the King, "said—she had sent from Kensington—every one, even to the maid-servants—who—had not had the smallpox——"
"That is but her own sweet kindness," cried Portland—"she cannot know——"
"I am afraid, afraid," answered the King. "My father, my mother, my uncle ... all dead of that..."
He sprang up and turned to the door. Sunderland was in his way, and stayed him gently.
"Sir—I entreat you do not disappoint the people—stay in Whitehall to dine——"