As the door opened, Margaret was agreeably impressed by the bright glow of the hall into which she entered. The man-servant who appeared was civilly polite; the dark oak furniture and rich red carpet and walls, artistically decorated, gave a sense of warmth and comfort to the tired girl. Then she was startled by hearing a shrill voice screaming over the banisters: "So you are here at last, and I can't even come and look at you, because I'm supposed to be in bed. It is a shame! I want----" "Go back, Miss Ellice, now," said James reprovingly; "the master will hear you." "Who cares!" said the elf, leaning still further over the balustrade until she was in danger of falling. At that moment the dining-room door opened, and the child, in spite of her boasting, disappeared, as a tall, dark, well-set-up man appeared. "Is it really Miss Woodford?" he inquired, holding out his hand. "Yes. I'm afraid I'm very late, but I had a difficulty in finding a conveyance at the station. I hope I've not caused any inconvenience." "Indeed no; the fault is ours. I must apologise. We sent a trap to meet you, but unfortunately Mrs. Medhurst made a mistake about the train--we have only just found it out. I'm sorry you've had the trouble of finding your way here alone." "Ah, here's Betsy," he added, addressing an elderly woman who at that moment made her appearance in the hall. "Will you take Miss Woodford upstairs at once," he said, "and then," turning to Margaret, "we shall be ready for dinner, when I can introduce you to my wife; your little charge is in bed, and asleep by this time, I expect." This last was received with a grim smile by old James, as the young governess followed the woman to her bedroom. A bright fire was blazing on the hearth, which was pleasant, for the early summer nights were still cold. Margaret glanced around her room with pleasure. The subdued green carpet, cream-tinted walls, and shelf of goblin blue china all expressed a thoughtful kindness and artistic taste. As she laid her toilet requisites on the old Chippendale table, Margaret's heart gave a throb of thankfulness that her environment was so tasteful and pleasant. There surely could be nothing to fear here? Mr. Medhurst was evidently a gentleman, while the servants she had seen were of the good class so often regretted in this century. Her future pupil might prove a handful, but that part of her life had to be tested. She felt she was travel-stained, but she did not wish to keep dinner waiting, so, refreshed with a wash, and smoothing her hair which, in spite of much brushing, would ripple in natural, careless waves over her forehead, she prepared to descend. Betsy was outside waiting, and in another moment threw open the dining-room door, and announced "Miss Woodford." There was a rustle of silk, a subtle scent of violet perfume, and a tall, graceful woman rose from the table to receive her.