Here Monica’s feelings overcame her, and her eyes brimmed with tears for a moment. But they were soon chased away, and a happy smile played about her lips, as she began to undress, and put the various articles of her attire neatly away. "I do hope he will think I have improved, and that I am growing up a little bit like he wanted me to. If I am, it is all owing to the Herschels," and Monica took up the frame containing the pictured faces of her seaside friends, and gazed thoughtfully at them. "Dear Robina, and--and Leslie, too; what sort of girl should I have been by now, if God had not sent you into my life? I can never, never thank Him enough for all His goodness to me, and so the only thing I can do is to seek to ’walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing,’ as my motto says, and do what I can to get others to follow Him, too." Monica never crossed off December the twenty-second on her little calendar; indeed, she forgot all about it, for a telegram the next afternoon informed them that the colonel had already left London, and in less than a couple of hours Monica was in her father’s arms. "My darling child!" "Dearest dad!" What else they said was unintelligible for the next few moments, and then Colonel Beauchamp held his daughter at arm’s length, and critically examined her. "Shall I pass muster, daddy dear?" she asked, merrily; but there was more behind the words than appeared on the surface. And the proud father, noting the purposeful face, so full of expression, and reading true nobility of character therein, held out his arms, and Monica slipped confidingly into them, while he bent his soldierly head and pressed a long, long kiss upon her broad white brow, murmuring, as he did so, in tones so low as only to reach his daughter’s ears: "I think my Monica deserves the V.C., for it is evident she has fought successfully against heavy odds, under fire of the enemy, and won a brilliant victory." "Oh, dad, I don’t think I have," whispered the happy girl, her head on his shoulder; "but whatever good there is about me, is all owing to my having enlisted under the banner of Jesus Christ." "His arm hath gotten him the victory," repeated the colonel reverently, and Monica knew that her father understood. *CHAPTER XXV* *"THE CHILD HAS CHOSEN WELL."* Our story is done. With the retirement of her son from the army, and his return to England, and subsequent settling down at Carson Rise, Mrs. Beauchamp’s responsibility over her once troublesome granddaughter ceased. But to those readers who have been interested in the quartette, during a few months of their school life, a glimpse at them all, seven years after the events recorded, will not come amiss.