Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. Not conceiving that his sister—feeble as she was, and yielding as she had ever shown herself to his wishes, whether expressed or implied—would depart without consulting him, he was equally surprised and enraged to hear the servants busied in transporting her to the carriage. " "A friend is not so soon gained as lost," replied Wood; "but how has the prediction been fulfilled, Joan, eh?" "I thought you would have guessed, Sir," replied the widow, timidly. She hastened past. After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until nothing could be heard. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true.
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