"Oh, I'm all right, mother," he replied, "but I own I did feel queer at the time."
"Don't talk about the affair too strongly at home, Jack," said Mr. Armstrong, "at least not in the presence of Mrs. Armstrong."
At this moment Mary drew up her ponies at the gate. Mr. Armstrong and his companions entered the house, the painful event of the last hour occupying every thought, more especially from its connexion with the residents at Englefield Grange.
CHAPTER XXVII.
TEMPTED.
"Man is the creature of circumstances," is a remark that few will deny. Those, however, who remember that "not a sparrow falls to the ground without our heavenly Father's knowledge" name these said circumstances "providences." If even a sparrow cannot fall unnoticed, will not the great Creator trouble Himself about the movements and actions of His creatures in a higher state of being, and for whom Christ died?
It was a mysterious providence which in so sudden and painful a manner removed the second wife of Arthur Franklyn from the evil to come, but it led to important results, and influenced the future of more than one of the persons mentioned in our story.
The pendule on the mantelpiece of the drawing-room pointed to ten minutes to six on the day of this sad occurrence, and Mrs. Armstrong, who had still some misgivings about Mary and her pony carriage, began to feel very anxious. She rose and entered the dining-room, where the parlourmaid was laying the cloth. "Margaret," she said, "I fear something has happened to detain your master and Miss Mary. Where is Rowland? send him at once to the station; they ought to have been home half an hour ago."
The girl turned to obey, but she had scarcely left the room, when Mrs. Armstrong saw the pony carriage drive to the gate, and hastened out to meet its occupants. "What has detained you? Oh, how glad I am to see you here safe and well!"