"Let me make a sling of this old scarf, Miss Monica," said cook, suiting the action to the word, and hastily improvising a sling from a black and white check tie, which she produced from one of the huge dresser drawers. "It's a mercy the skin ain't broke."
"Thanks," was all Monica could manage to say, for it required all her self-control to keep her lips firmly clenched, the aching was so intense.
"Perhaps Barnes could find some soothin' stuff to put on it, miss," she called after the girl, as she slowly ascended the kitchen stairs.
Monica managed to reach the schoolroom door, where she came face to face with Barnes, who had been in search of her; and she had to tell the maid what had befallen her.
"Dear, dear, Miss Monica," said Barnes, "'tis nothing but a chapter of accidents this morning; the missis so poorly, too. But there, 'tis one consolation the doctor will be here in a few minutes to see her (for she told me I'd better send for him), and he'll soon put your hand to rights."
She spoke more cheerfully than she felt, for Monica looked very unlike her usual self, and she feared she was going to be ill. "Just you have a bit of rest in this easy chair, miss," she said, pushing forward a cosy basket chair, and Monica sank among the cushions with relief. "Why, there's the doctor's gig, I do declare," added the maid, with satisfaction, as wheels sounded on the carriage drive.
The fatherly old doctor, who knew Monica very well, although she had seldom required any of his physic, paid her a visit after he had attended to her grandmother. He examined the bite carefully, and commiserated with her on the unfortunate mishap, but said it was not at all a serious matter. He promised to send some lotion, and told her to keep her hand in a sling, and he hoped in a day or two there would be little more than bruises left.
"But you mustn't go and put your hand into the pony's mouth again, my dear child," said he with a smile, "or you might not get off so easily again. I can't quite understand how it happened yet."
"Oh! it was all my own fault," admitted Monica, frankly. "I was warned that the pony might bite, but, of course, I didn't think he would! In fact, I ought not to have gone into the stables at all." And she looked up saucily into the kind old face bending over her. But the expression in the keen eyes which looked searchingly at her made her lower her own, while something akin to shame filled her heart.
"I suspect the colonel would say that obedience was one of the first duties of a recruit," he said, slowly; "at any rate, it is one of the hardest lessons that a soldier of the King of kings has to learn. My lassie," he added, tenderly, but solemnly, as he smoothed her ruffled hair with a fatherly touch, "how much longer are you going on fighting against Him? Why don't you surrender arms, and begin to fight for Him, and with Him? You see, I know that I am talking to a soldier's daughter. Won't you think about what I have said?" And he took up his hat and gloves, preparatory to departing.