The Bungalow Mystery by Annie Haynes Page B

she would have given up her life in the hope that she might make things less hard for him.”
    Roger did not speak for a minute or two; his heart was full of trouble for his friend, for the girl whose life’s happiness had been thus terribly wrecked. His eyes wandered over the ordered fragrance outside to the broad pasture land beyond. All this was Courtenay’s; and yet he lay in his room maimed and useless. The pity of it brought a huskiness to his voice.
    â€œIt was very noble of Miss Luxmore. But one can’t help seeing that your brother would naturally shrink from letting her sacrifice herself in that fashion.”
    â€œThat is what I try to believe. But when I see Daphne it is impossible to think he is right. She tells me that every day when she opens her eyes in the morning her first thought is that surely to-day he will write to her, he will send for her; and every day closes in the same dreary disappointment. From her sister, too, I have heard that Daphne still goes every evening to their old trysting-place. She is firmly convinced that some day he will meet her there.”
    â€œPoor thing!” Roger said involuntarily. In truth it was a difficult matter to deal with. His better judgment approved his friend’s action, and yet it was impossible not to recognize that there were features in the case that made it specially hard.
    â€œLord Luxmore has seen him several times,” Mrs. Melville went on. “And though he, too, was of the opinion that the engagement must be broken off, his pity for Daphne’s distress is such that he has done his best to induce James to see her. To no purpose though. I believe James told him that he would rather die than be seen as he is now by her. Lord Luxmore has thought all along, though, that when he is stronger, when the terrible shock to his nervous system has to some extent worn off, he will probably alter his mind with regard to that. What do you think, Roger?” She looked up sharply amid her fast gathering tears.
    Roger hesitated. It seemed to him that the time had come when at least some measure of the truth should be spoken.
    â€œI can’t help thinking, Ethel, it is best that you should see things as they are, as I feel sure Courtenay has realized. The injuries were so terrible that they could hardly fail to affect the heart; the pain from which he suffers is not altogether neuralgic; there is grave organic mischief.”
    â€œYou mean that there is danger?” Mrs. Melville stood up. “Tell me all, please, Roger. I am going to lose my brother.”
    Lavington retained her hand in his.
    â€œIt is impossible to say more than that there is serious mischief with the heart; such cases may last for years. They may even, in a measure, recover. But think, Ethel, of the existence to which he is doomed. Would you wish to prolong it, to delay the release for which he is longing?”
    Mrs. Melville was struggling with her tears.
    â€œI cannot bear to think of it. We were all so proud of James. He was my mother’s favourite child; she was always so interested in his work. If she could have known how it would end! And Daphne”—breaking down utterly—“I was forgetting Daphne. This will break her heart!”

Chapter Six
    â€œI would much rather stay with you, really, James.”
    Courtenay’s face was twisted in a satirical smile.
    â€œI am such an agreeable companion, am I not? Nonsense, Ethel, of course you must go. The rector would never forgive me if I disappointed him. Roger will escort you.”
    Lavington looked up from his papers.
    â€œDelighted as I should be to be of any service to Ethel, I cannot say that school-treats are much in my line, old fellow.”
    â€œOh, this is the one great function of the year at Oakthorpe, when all classes in the neighbourhood meet for once on an equality,” Courtenay observed cynically. “You will have to go, my dear Lavington, or you will be