You should have just filled it up with oil and sent her on her way. My sister refused to check the oil on her car as a matter of principle. “All that matters about a car is that it has gas,” was her reply to my trying to explain that her ’71 Scamp leaked and burned oil and that she needed to top it up whenever she added gas. I poured more than four quarts of oil into that slant-6 on a number of occasions when I visited her or traded cars with her for various reasons. It would quiet down and continue its oil drinking ways for another month or two. Eventually it became my daily driver. I blew up the back axle, ran it low on gas which caused sediment in the tank to ruin the carburetor, and had a few electrical problems. The engine never so much as received a valve adjustment, and it was still working fine for a few years in the hands of the guy who bought it from me until he lost it in a divorce. My sister’s next car was a new turbo Dodge Lancer. It once made it 17,000 miles between head gaskets, but never saw the 50,000 miles the warranty promised.