of the house. Then he
spoke--

"You have not mentioned it, Lucy?"

"Of course I have not."

"Thank you. Let us both forget it. It was not the codicil. And Verner's
Pride is not mine."

CHAPTER XXVII.

DR. WEST'S SANCTUM.

For some little time past, certain rumours had arisen in Deerham
somewhat to the prejudice of Dr. West. Rumours of the same nature had
circulated once or twice before during the progress of the last half
dozen years; but they had died away again, or had been hushed up, never
coming to anything. For one thing, their reputed scene had not lain at
the immediate spot, but at Heartburg; and distance is a great
discouragement to ill-natured tattle. This fresh scandal, however, was
nearer. It touched the very heart of Deerham, and people made themselves
remarkably busy over it--none the less busy because the accusations were
vague. Tales never lose anything in carrying, and the most outrageous
things were whispered of Dr. West.

A year or two previous to this, a widow lady named Baynton, with her two
daughters, no longer very young, had come to live at a pretty cottage in
Deerham. Nothing was known of who they were, or where they came from.
They appeared to be very reserved, and made no acquaintance whatever.
Under these circumstances, of course, their history was supplied for
them. If you or I went and established ourselves in a fresh place
to-morrow, saying nothing of who we were, or what we were, it would only
be the signal for some busybody in that place to coin a story for us,
and all the rest of the busybodies would immediately circulate it. It
was said of Mrs. Baynton that she had been left in reduced
circumstances; had fallen from some high pedestal of wealth, through the
death of her husband; that she lived in a perpetual state of
mortification in consequence of her present poverty, and would not admit
a single inhabitant of Deerham within her doors to witness it. There may
have been as little truth in it as in the greatest _canard_ that ever
flew; but Deerham promulgated it, Deerham believed in it, and the
Bayntons never contradicted it. The best of all reasons for this may
have been that they never heard of it. They lived quietly on alone,
interfering with nobody, and going out rarely. In appearance and manners
they were gentlewomen, and rather haughty gentlewomen, too; but they
kept no servant. How their work was done, Deerham could not conceive: it
was next to impossible to fan