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Consternation gripped him. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. You have been going out every morning, and coming home late—tired out—too tired to come down to dinner. Here was the same Ruth who had left him a few minutes since: the same outwardly; and yet…! On the ninth day Spurlock was up and about; that is, he was strong enough to walk alone, from the companion to his chair, to lean upon the rail when the chair grew irksome, to join Ruth and his employer at lunch and dinner: strong enough to argue about books, music, paintings. “The very question, my dear sister,” she said, “tells me that I have succeeded.
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