"Oh, grandmother!" was all the girl could find to say; but the look of intense pleasure which irradiated her whole face, entirely transforming it, was sufficient reward to Mrs. Beauchamp for the very real concession she was making; for, of all things, a mischievous, gambolling dog _indoors_, who would be sure to bark or whine just when she was having a little nap, was one that she objected to most. "Of course, it must be a very nice quiet one, Monica, small and well-trained. Perhaps Richards might hear of one somewhere." "Oh! grandmother, do you remember that day you decided I was to go to school?" Monica questioned, eagerly; "because Tom had just been telling me about a jolly little wire-haired terrier his father wanted a home for, when you sent for me." "I do remember something of the sort, Monica," said the old lady, "but even if the dog were still to be had, it might not be just what we want." "Well, I do wish you would send round to the stables and ask, grandmother," said Monica, coaxingly "because we could have him at once, I expect. We might have to wait ever so long before Richards came across one, he is so dreadfully slow. And it _is_ so dull up here, all alone." "Well, I will see what can be done." And the old lady departed, a comfortable feeling of having given pleasure warming her cold, reserved heart; while Monica reiterated again and again, in words which jarred terribly on her aristocratic nerves: "It’s most awfully kind of you, grandmother! It _will_ be jolly to have a dog of my own." To say that Monica waited patiently for results would be untrue. She was far too excited and eager about the matter to do that; but as she was alone, except for a flying visit from Barnes, who brought her some lunch, and as she could not move her leg, her impatience had a salutary amount of check. She could not think how it was her grandmother had ever brought her mind to think of such a thing, knowing well how keenly she objected to animals indoors; it puzzled her a good deal, especially after her disobedience earlier in the week. And Monica grew quite repentant for her misdeeds, as she considered the unexpected favour she was being granted. An hour or so later a peculiar scratching noise along the corridor outside made Monica listen intently, and a second after there came a hesitating knock at the door. "Come in," cried Monica, who was all excitement; and the door opened to admit Tom, the little stable-boy, who was leading the cutest looking wire-haired terrier imaginable, and was closely followed by Barnes. "Oh, you darling!" cried Monica, who was infatuated with the dog at first sight; "do bring him close, Tom."