"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!" "Of course we are all safe and well," said her husband, in a cheerful voice, as he led her to the drawing-room, "but the fact is, a lady was taken ill in our railway carriage, and this caused some delay; so make yourself comfortable, dearest, while we get ready for dinner; you shall hear all about it by-and-by." Jack had recovered himself during the drive home, but he hastened at once to his room, and remained there till he heard his mother go downstairs, for he feared being questioned by Mrs. Armstrong after her husband's caution to him. Although unaccustomed to give way to fine lady nervousness, Mr. Armstrong knew that his wife had not quite lost the natural timidity which once nearly cost Maria St. Clair her life. But Mary knew her mother best: after the rest had left the drawing-room she placed her arm tenderly round her neck, and said, "Mamma darling, you need not wait for 'by-and-by,' I will tell you the worst at once. A poor lady who sat opposite cousin Sarah in the railway carriage was taken ill on the journey and died before they arrived at the station." "Oh, how very shocking!" said Mrs. Armstrong. "Was she alone?"