There were no mourners. Foolish compliments were tossed about like confetti. ” “Good God!” said Mr. Wood trembled. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. Wood; "I'll not bear it. "Oh, I've read that!" Spurlock had heard distinctly enough all of this odd conversation; but until the spinster's reference to the family album, no phrase had been sufficient in strength of attraction to break the trend of his own unhappy thoughts. Slowly descending Snow Hill, the train passed on its way, attended by the same stunning vociferations, cheers, yells, and outcries, which had accompanied it on starting from Newgate.
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