Margaret heard the words with a great sense of relief. The dining-room looked delightful in the morning light; the casement windows were thrown wide open, and roses peeped a welcome into the room. Miss Woodford noticed the table was laid for two only, and wondered. Presently the door opened, and James appeared. "Will you like breakfast now, miss?" he inquired. "Oh--yes--but what about Mrs. Medhurst?" she inquired. "She always takes hers upstairs, and the master has it with her when she's had a bad night," he answered. "I am sorry she is not so well?" she replied. The interrogative tone of her voice brought no response from the man-servant who waited. "What about my pupil, won't she breakfast with me?" inquired Miss Woodford. "I can't say, miss. I wouldn't advise you to wait for her; she's off in the woods somewhere, and there's no knowing when she'll come back. Betsy will keep something hot for her." "Oh. I see"--and the new governess realised something of the difficulty of her position as she sat down--"I won't delay any longer then." She had not quite finished when she heard a child's laugh, and the door was flung open,-and a sharp little voice exclaimed: "There you are; I thought I'd find you here. Good morning, Miss--oh, what's your name?" "Good morning. I'm Miss Woodford, and you--you are my pupil Ellice, aren't you?" said the new governess, with a smile. "Yes. I wonder what your other name is?" "It's Margaret." "Oh, that's rather nice; it's nothing like mine. Isn't it stupid I can't call you by it? Mamma said I was to say _Miss_ Woodford when I spoke to you." "Yes, of course, because you are a lady, you see, and _ladies_ always behave politely--they can't help it." "Oh--yes--I--see," answered the child, drawling the words out in surprised tones. Here was a puzzle. This new governess seemed to think she _couldn't_ behave rudely--because--because she was a lady! It was awkward; she hadn't thought of it like that before. It looked as if the fun was going to be spoilt. A puzzled expression of disappointment clouded her face for a moment, but in an instant it lighted with an illuminating flash, as a thought rushed to her mind. "I wonder what she'll think on Saturday?" She was an interesting looking child, but she had none of her mother's beauty, the brilliant brunette which had so struck Miss Woodford. Ellice was a fairy-looking little creature, with dancing blue eyes, tiny features, and tumbled ringlets. She certainly looked like an elf from the woods as she stood with the front of her dress caught up in one hand, and filled with wild roses, tufts of yellow vetch, scabious, bundles of dainty milkmaids which she had dragged from the nettle-beds, regardless of their stings, and sweet clumps of wild parsley--all in mingled profusion, while she carelessly swung a straw hat by a broken elastic, the blue ribbon of which was stained with cherry juice that matched the dye on her fingers.