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The young lady, whose reputation and the care which had been spent on her breeding, no less than her gifts of person and character, deserved a better fate, attained in a moment a notoriety far from enviable; rumour's hundred tongues alleging, and probably with truth for what father can vie with a gallant in a maiden's eyes? that her inclinations were all on the side of the pretender.
"Indeed," said Trevalyon, carelessly, "what a dearth of scandal there must be in Dame Rumour's budget, that she must needs revive one of a dozen years ago." "Ah," thought the rector, "what a pity it is true." But not so Haughton, who, starting to a sitting posture, said excitedly: "You take it too coolly, Trevalyon, stamp it out at once, and for ever! you know, you never married her."
"You have nothing to regret, Douglas, I am too well accustomed to Dame Rumour's pleasantries; she only serves poor Fanny Clarmont up in a new dress; as 'hidden wife, she has never been presented before. Good-bye; I wish I could remain at the dear old place all night, then we would both stroll across the park with you."
Hilliard, a patient has got to be frank with his doctor if the doctor's to do any good. Are you engaged to marry Mrs. Gaylor, the widow of my old client?" "Good Lord, no!" exclaimed Nick, scarlet to his forehead. "Such an idea never entered my head." "Humph! Rumour's wrong, then. But that isn't to say it never entered her head. Does she know Mrs. May?" "No," said Nick. "Surely you're not hinting "
"By the way, Barbara Neave is a great friend of mine, and I don't very much care about hearing her described as 'that woman. . . . I think the paper only said that 'rumour' had 'been busy with' our 'names. Rumour's been damnably busy; it won't leave us alone!" His sister was silent for some moments.
"Eleven! o'clock," exclaimed the rector, "I must bid you both good-night; Haughton, you have my best wishes; we shall be more glad than I can say to have you among us again, and the other dear ones, Lady Esmondet and our sweet Vaura; good-bye, Trevalyon, I am full of regrets, that in giving you Dame Rumour's words, I have lent an unpleasant tone to your thoughts.
God only knows how I have missed you, darling." "How about the nun you spoke of in your letter, Lionel?" inquired Lady Esmondet, "will she aid you? What a long story you have to tell us." "Yes, and one until lately I had will nigh forgotten, for in spite of Dame Rumour's falseness I have not been the principal actor in it.
"Well, as a matter of fact, my lad, we weren't thinking that, but no doubt that rumour's got out. Now why do you railway folks know it isn't likely?" "That's what I've come to tell," answered the man, a sharp, intelligent-looking fellow. "I'm ticket-collector over there, as you know, sir.
"Odd, indeed," I answered calmly, for all that I felt my pulses quickening with apprehension. "But is it true?" I added. He shrugged his shoulders. "Rumour's habit is to lie," he answered. "Yet for such a lie as that, so monstrous an imagination would be needed that, rather, am I inclined to account it truth. There are no more poets in Pesaro since you left.
Yea, mark him well, ye cold and proud, Bewildered in a heartless crowd, Starting and turning pale At rumour's angry din: No storm can now assail The charm he bears within. Rejoicing still, and doing good, And with the thought of God imbued, No glare of high estate, No gloom of woe or want, The radiance may abate, Where Heaven delights to haunt.
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