"You were then not aware that your wife was suffering from disease of the heart, Mr. Franklyn?" "No," he replied, "not in the least; she never gave me reason to suppose that such was the case, even by a hint." "And I believe you hurried to the station on the day of the occurrence?" A kind of spasm passed over the face of Arthur Franklyn, and his lips quivered as he replied-- "I have reason to remember that we did so, owing to my watch being five minutes too fast." "We will not pain you with any further questions, Mr. Franklyn," said the coroner; and Arthur bowed as he moved to give place to Mrs. John Armstrong, feeling conscious that he did not deserve the sympathy too evident in the looks of those around him. What did they know of the terrible results to him of that hurried run to the train? What could any one know of the one absorbing thought which seemed to banish all others from his mind, and make him speak and move like a man in a dream? Nothing, not a shadow of the truth; and yet, while conscious that, like the somnambulist, he was steadily making his way to certain destruction, all power to stop his downward progress seemed to have deserted him; he had taken the first false step, and the result appeared inevitable. During that sad week, in the darkened rooms, with the coffin containing the lifeless form of his second wife occupying the room which once belonged to Fanny Halford, he still wore that look of forced submission which is so much like despair. On the day of the funeral, when the playground voices at Englefield Grange were silent and subdued, when the children of his first wife shed tears of childish sorrow by the coffin of the second, when his father-in-law and Henry looked with pitying eyes for the last time at the shrouded form of Louisa Franklyn, still beautiful even in death, Arthur showed no sympathy, no change in face or manner; not even when he saw Kate Marston weeping over the little Albert, the motherless boy of her lost Fanny. Indeed, Mrs. Halford's death had been too recent for any in that house to look with indifference so soon after on the insignia and trappings of woe. Arthur alone seemed callous and indifferent, while all around were in tears. Yet although they pitied him, not one in that family circle could have guessed his secret. In the midst of all these exciting events and mournful surroundings Henry Halford did not forget that the appointed day for his ordination was drawing near. He avoided all reference to it, however, although Arthur Franklyn had more than once missed him, and knew that an efficient substitute had been provided to take his place in the schoolroom during his absence at the bishop's examination.