The doctor reached over and laid his hand upon Spurlock's heart. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. The expression pervading the countenance of the one was vulgarity; of the other, that which is rarely found, except in persons of high birth. Efforts were made to staunch his wounds and surgical assistance sent for. His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was. ‘Did she call you that?’ asked Lucilla, amused. "Do you submit?" interrogated Wild.
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