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."
"Yes, miss," said Tom, with alacrity, pulling his forelock, and grinning all over his bright little face, as he clutched hold of the bit of strap that did duty for a collar, and dragged the terrier up to Monica's couch. "I hope you're better, miss," he ventured to say shyly, for Barnes, of whom he stood greatly in awe, was looking severely at him, and he had been bidden "to mind his behaviour."
"Oh, yes," said Monica, carelessly; she had no thoughts to spare on herself just then. "What's his name, Tom? Do put him up beside me."
"Be careful, now," said Barnes, a trifle sharply; she was not best pleased at this introduction into the household. "Remember your leg, Miss Monica."
"All right, Barnes, don't fidget! See, he's as quiet as possible. Good boy, dear old fellow!" and Monica stroked the ginger coloured head, and looked into the liquid brown eyes which had a wistful expression in them. He pricked up his ears at the tones of endearment, and licked her hands in response.
"'E 'ave took to you, an' no mistake, miss," said Tom, with huge delight. "Jack 'e 'ave been called, miss," he added, in answer to Monica's query, "but you'll find 'im a grander name, miss, now."
"No, I think Jack will do very well," said Monica, and the little dog, who knew by her fondling that he was being loved and made much of, gave a little grunt of satisfaction, and curled himself round on the couch beside his new mistress.
"Isn't he sweet, Barnes?"