The umbrellas were lifted and disclosed twelve girlish faces. On each face was a wide-spreading, comprehending, maddening grin, but not a girl spoke. Belinda's cheeks were crimson, but she pulled herself together heroically. "Good night, Mr. Wendell. Come, girls." They dropped into line, still grinning. Jack stepped to Belinda's side for a moment. "Cheer up. They look like a good sort--but if there is any trouble let me know," he said softly. The teacher and her charges made their way silently toward the car. No one mentioned the lieutenant, and Belinda volunteered no explanation or excuse. She would keep at least a shred of dignity. Arrived at the school Belinda saw the girls deposited in their respective rooms, then she pulled down her folding bed, crept into it, and cried into her pillow. If the girls should tell--and they would--and even if they didn't, how could she ever have any authority over them? "Be very careful not under any circumstances to become separated from the chaperon." Miss Spogg's soft voice purred it into her ear. "Remember, however young you may look or feel, you are a teacher with responsibility upon your shoulders. Unless you take a very wise stand from the first you will be of no value to us." Miss Lucilla's voice now smote the ears of memory. If the girls should tell---- "I've changed my mind about girls," Belinda announced to Lieutenant Wendell, on her free evening, a week later. "They are much nicer than boys, and quite as generous." CHAPTER II THE MUSICAL ROMANCE OF AMELIA A SUBTLE thrill was disturbing the atmosphere of high-bred serenity which the Misses Ryder, with a strenuousness far afield from serenity, fostered in their Select School for Young Ladies. As a matter of fact, this aristocratic calm existed only in the intent and the imaginations of the lady principals, and in the convictions of parents credulous concerning school prospectuses. With fifty girls of assorted sizes and temperaments collected under one roof agitation of one sort or another is fairly well assured. Miss Ryder's teachers were by no means blind to the excitement pervading the school, but its cause was wrapped in mystery. Amelia Bowers seemed to be occupying the centre of the stage and claiming the calcium light as her due, while Amelia's own particular clique gathered in knots in all the corners, and went about brimming over with some portentous secret which they imparted to the other girls with a generosity approaching lavishness. It was after running into a crowd of arch conspirators in the music-room alcove and producing a solemn hush that Miss Barnes sought the Youngest Teacher and labored with her. "Belinda," she began in her usual brusque fashion, "what's the matter with the girls?" "Youth," replied the Youngest Teacher laconically. She was trimming a hat, and when Belinda trims a hat it is hard to divert her serious attention to less vital issues.