How the news got about was a mystery, and how it grew into exaggerated and monstrous forms was a greater mystery still. Who has ever traced to its source the torrent of exciting rumour which, like a rush of waters, flows and swells, unlocking vivid imagination in its course, until reason and fact are lost in the whirl? All sorts of things were said. George was frightened of the water; he was in debt; he had done something wrong at the shop he had been working for, and was not allowed to leave without clearing it up; these, and a hundred other things, were said and commented upon. The peculiarity of this kind of rumour is, that directly a new theory is started it is accepted as a fact, and is taken to pieces and discussed in all its bearings. George was a fruitful theme with the neighbours on that Saturday night and on the following day; they served him up hot (like a new and appetising dish), and so seasoned him and spiced him and garnished him, that it would have made his blood tingle to have known. But he did not know, and did not even suspect. To be sure, when Jim Naldret went to the baker's on the Sunday for his baked shoulder of mutton and potatoes, he heard some remarks which did not please him; but he did not say a word to George, and the mother, father, and son spent a sad and quiet evening together, and went to bed earlier than usual. On the Monday, the startling intelligence was bandied from one to another that George Naldret and Bessie Sparrow had broken with each other. Bessie had turned him off, it was said; they had had a dreadful quarrel the night before he was to start for Liverpool. But it is not necessary here to set down all the reasons that were given for the breaking of the engagement. Some of them were bad, and all were false. But in the course of the day a little rill was started, which grew and grew, and swelled and swelled, until it swallowed up all the other waters. A rod was thrown down, which becoming instantly quick with life, turned into a serpent, and swallowed all the other serpents. It was said that Bessie had discovered that George had another sweetheart--who she was, where she lived, and how it had been kept secret during all this time, were matters of no importance; but it was first whispered, then spoken aloud and commented on, that this sweetheart should have been something more than a sweetheart to George--she should have been his wife. The reason why she should have been his wife was that George was a father. But where was the child? Rumour decided this instantaneously. The child was no other than our poor little Tottie; and George had basely deceived old Ben Sparrow and Bessie into taking care of the little one by a clever and wicked story that Tottie was an orphan, without a friend in the world. Here was food for the gossippers! How this hot dish was served up, and spiced and seasoned!