"No, her husband was with her, but he appeared too stunned to do anything, so cousin Sarah held the poor dying lady in her arms till the train stopped, and then papa went to find a doctor." "I am glad you have told me, my dear," said Mrs. Armstrong, "anything is better than suspense, and I should have pictured to myself all sorts of horrors." "Yes, mamma, I knew that, or I should not have told you, but I must go and prepare for dinner; I have only three minutes, so it is well I changed my dress before I started for the station." No one at the table noticed the effects on cousin Sarah of the shock she had received; yet she was a woman of warm deep feelings, railway travelling was a comparative novelty to her, and the terrible delay from the impossibility of stopping the train, added to the awe she felt when the poor woman died in her arms, had greatly shaken her nerves. Very little, however, was said on the subject during dinner, but in the evening, when Mrs. Armstrong listened with painful interest to her description of what had occurred, she could perceive how acutely cousin Sarah felt the effects of the scene she had witnessed. By degrees the conversation turned upon the persons mixed up with these sad circumstances, and then Mrs. Armstrong heard with surprise the name of the messenger Mary had sent to look for her father, and his close relationship to the husband of the lady so suddenly deprived of life. "Mr. Henry Halford had but one sister living when we first became acquainted with his family," remarked Mrs. Armstrong, "and she died in Australia two years ago." "This must be a second wife, then," said cousin Sarah, who had her own reasons for wishing to know all that could be learnt respecting Mr. Halford's family; "do you remember the name of Miss Halford's husband, Mary?" "Here is his card," said Mr. Armstrong, looking up from his newspaper and throwing the harmless missive on the table as he spoke; "you will receive a visit from him to-morrow, no doubt; he asked to be allowed to call and thank me for my kindness, and so forth; so you can accept these thanks, cousin Sarah, they belong to you by right." "Franklyn," said Mrs. Armstrong, taking up the card and reading it, "is that the name, Mary?" "Yes, mamma," she replied, in a quiet voice, for her father held his paper on one side to look at her while she spoke. "I read a notice of Mrs. Franklyn's death in the _Times_, and it also stated that she was the daughter of Dr. Halford of Englefield Grange." Mr. Armstrong then continued his reading. Cousin Sarah had noticed the look of fierce inquiry on his face as his daughter spoke, and recalling Mary's troubled countenance and her father's remarks about the Halfords, she felt more than ever determined to interfere. She made one remark, however, which brought a sudden flush to Mary's face--