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The man whose soul held no love of the poetic sat for two or three hours on the threshold of the bunkhouse door, his gaze on the ranchhouse. He was considering his "reputation," and he had reached the conclusion that Barbara Morgan had reason to fear him if rumor's tongues had related to her all of the crimes that had been attributed to him.
So was her grin when she said, "I gather from your reaction that you've heard the rumors about a post-Test Week visit from one of us." Medart nodded. From Perry's tone and expression, she was trying to give him time to adjust, but he wasn't sure that would help. "The rumor's absolutely true," Perry said. "What do you think?"
Rumor's hundred tongues wag with the announcement, that his Excellency is no longer inconsolable for his wife's death; and desires to testify to the happiness of conjugal relations, by a renewal of the sweet bondage; a curiously subtile compliment to the deceased. If I may be pardoned the enormity of the heresy, I think Shakspeare blundered supremely, when he gave Iago's soul to a man.
Poor Hortensia, whose one desire was to hide her face from the town's uncharitable sight just then, fearing, indeed, that Rumor's unscrupulous tongue would be as busy about her reputation as her ladyship had represented, attempted to assert herself by refusing to obey the command. It was in vain.
It was twenty-four miles long, but he regarded it with an affection only second to his love for his hardware store and he dealt with it as an indulgent parent.... Pliny Pickett once stage driver, was now conductor, and wore with ostentation a uniform suitable to the dignity, speaking of "my railroad" largely. "Hear Ovid Nixon's sick down to town" said Pliny. "Sich a rumor's come to me."
So he called on her, and they talked it over and made honest confessions that are good for the soul. The potter disappeared no one knew where some said he was dead, but Benjamin and Deborah did not wear mourning. They took rumor's word for it, and thanked God, and went to a church and were married.
"And I didn't expect you to say anything unless you wished to make something known. It's a matter of business." "Exactly," said Hilary. "But I think I might been a little civiller in saying what I did. The rumor's been a great annoyance to me; and I like to share my annoyances with other people. I suppose your business often brings you in contact with men of that friendly disposition? Heigh?"
She heaved a prodigious sigh as she spoke, for of course she had heard the gossip, and had indeed come to blows with a Hartite that very morning. "Eh, dear!" said Jane. "Rumor's a queer thing." She did not vouchsafe any more, and Mrs. Meadowsweet was too innocent and indolent and comfortable in her mind to question her. The other person who knew nothing was Mrs. Bertram.
The following letter appears to have been written in 1785, some months after the death of her sister, Miss Maria Linley. Her playful allusions to the fame of her own beauty might have been answered in the language of Paris to Helen: "Minor est tua gloria vero Famaque de forma pene maligna est." "Thy beauty far outruns even rumor's tongue, And envious fame leaves half thy charms unsung."
The thought thrilled him instead of frightening brought out every generous instinct that he had and made him thank the God of All Good Soldiers that at least he would have a chance to die in the attempt. There was nothing much the matter with young Cunningham. I take no man at rumor's price, Nor as the gossips cry him.
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