They never knew just how it happened; whether Monica overbalanced, or whether she steered purposely into the hedge, so as to avoid the motor, but the next instant the bicycle overturned, and Monica lay all huddled up underneath it. "Oh! Monica, are you hurt?" cried both girls simultaneously, as they lifted up the bicycle, and stood it against the hedge. But Monica neither moved nor spoke. "Oh, she’s dead!" cried the younger children, as they looked at the inanimate form, lying so still on the dusty road. "Nonsense!" said a loud, cheery voice beside them, and looking up, startled, the girls saw that the motor had been brought to a standstill not many yards off, and its occupant had come back to see what was the matter. "Not a bit of it! The lass has only twisted her foot a bit, by the look of it, and I expect she’s either stunned or fainted. I’ll lift her up," and suiting the action to the word, the stranger, whom the girls had recognised as Lily Howell’s father, raised Monica gently in his strong arms. The movement roused Monica, and she opened her eyes, saying with a shudder, "Oh, my foot, my foot!" "Oh, Monica, Monica!" cried Olive, who was nearly beside herself with fright, and who was terrified when she thought of Mrs. Beauchamp. "There, that’ll do, missy!" interposed Mr. Howell, in his bluff, hearty voice; "just you let me carry her to the car there, and we’ll have this foot attended to in a jiffy." And in another moment Monica was half-lying, half-sitting in the car, supported by Mr. Howell and Olive, whom he had bade get up as well, when he understood they were together; the Monroes following on foot with the bicycle, which had been the innocent cause of the calamity. "Drive on home, Cobb," said Mr. Howell to his chauffeur; while he added to Olive, "It’s the nearest place, and we shall soon see how much damage is done." "Oh, she’s fainted again!" cried poor Olive, as Monica’s head fell helplessly against the broad shoulder which was supporting it. "By Jove! she has," ejaculated the man under his breath, and he noticed with relief that another minute would see them at his door. It was the work of a very few moments to carry the injured girl into the house, and lay her gently on a huge couch, which was placed under an open window in one of the expensively furnished rooms. The next thing was to remove the shoe from the fast-swelling foot, to find Mrs. Howell, and send for the doctor. "Franklyn is nearest," said the plutocrat to a smartly liveried footman, who waited for orders. "Get him to come at once, or if he’s out, bring any one you can find." "Oh, I hope father will come!" said Olive pitifully, as she rubbed Monica’s cold hands and tried to rouse her. "Are you one of Franklyn’s girls, then?" asked Mr. Howell; "and who is this young lady?" "Monica Beauchamp. Her grandmother lives at Carson Rise, Mydenham."