"Why, ladybird, what is it?" he said, stroking her hair gently. "Look—have you no word of welcome for my wife?"
"Ellice, dear child," said Margaret's voice gently.
The girl started, raising her head, and looked wonderingly into the sweet face of her old governess. Then the great fact dawned upon her mind—Margaret Woodford, whom she loved, was the new stepmother she had dreaded.
"You?—You?" she exclaimed, clasping the hands extended towards her. "Oh, how lovely!"
Tears of joy glistened in Margaret's eyes.
"I think you can see the reward of other years now, can't you?" whispered her husband, and Margaret did see, and was wondrously content.
* * * * *
Two months passed quickly away—two months of unalloyed happiness to Margaret in her new life.
It was her birthday, and she stood looking out upon the frost-clothed lawn glistening in a bath of winter sunshine, waiting for the others to come down to breakfast. It was November—cold, still, and bright.
Presently she felt her husband's hand upon her shoulder, and heard his voice saying: