It was long before the cousins met; Roy's delicate constitution had received such a shock that his condition for some time was a cause of grave anxiety. His leg did not heal, and then the terrible word was whispered through the house "amputation"!
It was a lovely evening in September when after a long talk with the doctor in the library Miss Bertram came out, her usually determined face quivering with emotion.
"I will tell him to-night, Doctor Grant, and we shall be ready for you to-morrow afternoon at three."
She went upstairs, and Dudley with scared eyes having heard her speech now crept out of the house after the doctor.
"Look here, Doctor Grant," he said, confronting him with an almost defiant air: "you're not going to make Roy a cripple!"
"I'm going to save his life, if I can," said the doctor, half sadly, as he looked down upon the sturdy boy in front of him.
"He won't live with only one leg, I know he won't, it will be too much of a disgrace to him; he'll die of grief, I know he will! Oh, Doctor Grant, you might have pity on him, it isn't fair!"
"Would you rather see him die in lingering pain?" enquired the doctor, gravely.
"Oh, I think it so awful! Why should he be the one to be smashed up. Look at me! I know everybody thinks it a pity it wasn't me. It would have made us so much more equal. Why should I be so strong, and he so weak! I tell you what! I've heard a story about joining on other men's legs. Now tell me, could you do it? Could you give him one of mine? I'd let you cut it off this minute—to-night, if you only would. If it would make him walk straight!"
Dudley seized hold of the doctor's coat excitedly, and Doctor Grant saw his whole soul was in his words.