The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. His perception of her personal beauty deepened and quickened with each encounter. Snatching-up his pistols, he rushed to the door, but to his horror found it fastened. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. Let the law put its hand on his shoulder—if it could! But at present he was at liberty, and he purposed to remain in that state. "I've done all I can to the portrait here. He could think about it later. This man was apparently not sure whether he was Meysey Hill or not. He seemed to her indistinguishably about her father’s age. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. The poor fellow's half smothered. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Kneebone smiled assent. All who lived there aspired to be something greater, all who lived there had hope, even the slaves! Oh, Lucia, if you could have seen the Parthenon, or attended the plays at the Athaneum, you would know why I loved it there. Spurlock.
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