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.