The one big fight to gain ascendancy over her pupil had been worth while. It is true Ellice did not give up her opposition without some further struggle, but her wilfulness never again carried her so far. Lesson-time became more pleasant both to governess and pupil, and gradually all thought of direct disobedience passed, sulky silence presently giving way to an interested co-operation. Mr. Medhurst was not unobservant as to the friendship springing up between Margaret and his small daughter, and was well pleased with the way things were going. His wife spent most of her time in her own room, although she was not a confirmed invalid. She did not give herself much chance of knowing or understanding her children's characters, but she could not help noticing a subtle change in Ellice. Summer days were quickly passing away, the plentiful green brambles which grew so luxuriantly on the common had ripened into a rich berry harvest; the dainty gossamer houses of the spiders glistened on the hedgerows, the tiny ropes of which caught Margaret Woodford's face as she walked quickly across the spongy turf to the woods. She brushed the irritating threads aside, an anxious expression clouding the usual brightness of her countenance. She had come away from the house this morning perturbed in spirit, and more worried than she liked to admit to herself. She had not waited to find her pupil, but was wanting to be alone and have time to think quietly. That something serious had happened was easy to see from the trouble discernible in her face. She had had a wakeful night, and a not too pleasant interview with Mrs. Medhurst this morning. The evening before she had gone up to bed early and sat reading for some time in the quiet retreat of her room--Mr. Medhurst had not returned from town, Mrs. Medhurst had dinner upstairs, and Ellice was in bed. It was Wednesday, and Bob would not be home until the week-end, the September term having just begun. Upon putting down her book, Margaret had gone to the dressing-table and opened her small jewel-box to put away the brooch she was wearing. For a few moments she had stood still, gazing helplessly at the case before her, astonishment depicted upon her countenance, her expression gradually changing to consternation, as she grasped the unpleasant fact that her beautiful ruby necklace--her mother's chain of rare jewels--the heirloom which had descended to her--was missing.