In the confined space of a first-class carriage little could be done; Arthur, pale as death, offered to relieve Mrs. John Armstrong of the insensible form which she supported on her bosom, but she refused to do so.
"Unfasten her dress," she exclaimed, "untie her bonnet." And while Arthur obeyed with trembling, almost useless fingers, he called upon his wife by name, lavishing upon her the most endearing terms in tones of the bitterest woe—how bitter none but himself knew. Was she dying? would she really die? Ah yes, Arthur Franklyn, less than five minutes have elapsed since you were disturbed from your gloomy reverie, and the woman whom you flattered into marriage for the sake of her money lies a lifeless corpse in the arms of a stranger!
Mr. Armstrong, who has been in vain endeavouring to attract the notice of the guard, looks once more from the window, and exclaims, "Thank God we are slackening speed, we are nearing the station;" but even as he utters the comforting words to the apparently heart-stricken husband he knows it is too late.
Presently the train enters the station. Again he looks out. A porter approaches running with the train. "A doctor! a medical man, quick!" he exclaimed; "a lady is ill, dying."
The train has come almost to a standstill. Mr. Armstrong jumps out even at the risk of his life. There is a running to and fro of porters. A crowding of passengers to the carriage door, and a general commotion as the eager inquiries for a doctor are passed from lip to lip.
"Go for Dr. White." "No, Dr. Harris is the nearest." But Mr. Armstrong had been already successful. Within a few steps of the carriage he left so hastily he came upon a gentleman alighting from the train, and looking with eager inquiry at the confusion on the platform.
"Dr. West! thank God you are here; come quickly, a lady is dying or dead in our carriage."
With hasty steps and a serious face the doctor followed Mr. Armstrong. Scarcely two minutes had elapsed, yet the porters were preparing to remove the lifeless burden from the arms of cousin Sarah, who still held her tenderly, for the train could no longer be delayed.
Roused from the shock which had at first stunned him, Arthur Franklyn hastened to relieve Mrs. John Armstrong of his wife, and gently setting aside the porters, he and Mr. Armstrong lifted her from the carriage to the ladies' waiting-room, and laid her on one of the couches.
The door was closed to all but the doctor and those who had been in the carriage with Arthur Franklyn and his wife, and then Dr. West prepared to examine the patient before uttering the so often dreaded words, "It is all over."