"Do look, Gordon!" she exclaimed; "Miss Woodford has gone down the drive with Ellice, and Bob has actually gone with them." Mr. Medhurst rose from his seat and looked over his wife's shoulder. "I think I can congratulate you on your choice of a governess this time, Lucille; it really looks as if she'll stay"--and he laughed as he spoke. "Perhaps our youngsters are not much worse than other people's after all," he continued. "You spoil Bob, and I suppose we both spoil Ellice; let's hope Miss Woodford will counteract the mischief." "Oh, you are always hard on Bob, Gordon! I can't think why." "Hard, am I? There seems a good deal of necessity, I think; but there, I confess I don't understand boys." "I wish I was strong; I would love to have taken them out with me like that," said Mrs. Medhurst; she spoke wistfully, with a far-away look of unrest in her dark eyes. "You might do a little more. You could if you tried, don't you think?" "I can't--go--out," she said wearily, "but I like my flowers." "The garden has done well, hasn't it?" he said. "I did just what you suggested, dear, simply massed all the brightest colours together, and, as you say, Nature seems to be her own best artist, and makes them blend perfectly. You must come with me this evening and see what the rain has done. Now have a rest until tea-time." He arranged his wife's cushions with deft fingers as of a nurse, and Mrs. Medhurst lay down again upon her couch, while her husband resumed his reading. CHAPTER V THE GREAT FIGHT Margaret was quite sorry when Bob departed on Monday morning to school, for although nothing further was said to assure her, his attitude towards her was evidently changed, and she believed she was now upon a friendly footing with the boy, and at least one of the difficulties of Oaklands was partially overcome. The days that intervened before his return upon the following Saturday were not of the happiest. She determined to insist upon her charge having special hours for study, and for recreation, and this meant a struggle of wills. Ellice had hitherto had her own way entirely, and any curtailing of that met strenuous opposition. Monday morning was a lesson in patience to Margaret. Ellice came willingly to the schoolroom, and condescended (for that was her attitude) to give her mind to lessons for about half an hour. For that length of time she seemed docility itself. Bob's words as to her ignorance had rankled in her mind; the child was full of pride, and the idea of possibly being looked down upon as an ignoramus later on was a detestable thought. But half an hour every morning, she had determined, would be sufficient for her concentration.