“Give me the book first,” was the prudent answer, as Zeynab reclaimed her treasure jealously. “This is all I have. What are thy pictures like, O doctor lady?” “There is one of the Queen of England and many of her family,” said Georgia, thinking of some odd numbers of illustrated papers which had thus far survived wonderfully the various vicissitudes of the Mission. “I might even find you two or three books if you will be good and let me look at your foot.” “Oh, my foot!” Zeynab’s face was pursed up once more in readiness to cry. “It hurts so dreadfully, and Khadija said thou wouldst cut it off.” “Not if I can possibly help it, I promise you. Will you be a brave girl, and let me look at it quietly? I don’t mind your crying out if I hurt you very much; but you must not struggle, and I will be as gentle as I can.” “But why should I be hurt? I am Queen Zeynab.” “Because I must hurt you a little now if you are to get well afterwards. If you are queen here, show it by being braver than any one else would be. I am treating you like a grown-up person, Zeynab, not like a baby.” “It is well,” said Zeynab, with a frightened little smile. “Thou wilt not cut my foot off bit by bit?” “Certainly not. If I should have to cut it off, I will give you something to prevent your feeling it at all, so that you won’t even know that it is being done; but I hope it will not be necessary. Now let me see it.” With great bravery the child allowed her foot to be disencumbered of the mass of dirty rags in which it was enveloped, and lay still with compressed lips while Georgia made her examination. The theory which the doctor had formed on hearing Khadija’s report she saw at once to be the correct one. The splintered bone was accountable for the swelling, and would have induced mortification if it had remained much longer in the wound. The foot was in a frightful state, but there was still just a possibility of operating with success. The operation must be undertaken at once, Georgia decided, if the limb was to be saved, and she turned to Rahah to tell her to get out the necessary anæsthetic. The movement, slight as it was, gave a jerk to the rickety bedstead, which communicated itself to the wounded foot, and forced a moan of pain from the child’s lips. Almost simultaneously with the sound, Khadija precipitated herself into the room with a suddenness which suggested that she must have been listening at the door, and seizing Georgia by the shoulders, thrust her violently away from the bed and to the other side of the little room. “What art thou doing to my child?” she demanded, standing between the doctor and Zeynab, who was sobbing and wailing with the pain of the rough jar which the impetuous onslaught had caused to her foot. “Answer me, O doctor lady! I sent for thee to cure her, and wouldst thou torment her when I am not by?”