She was, it seemed, but newly come to America. Financial reverses had forced her, an orphan of good family, to earn her living. There were wealthy and influential friends who were willing to help her, but a De Courcelles--Mademoiselle spoke the word proudly--could not live upon charity. She had taught in the families of several of these friends, but the situation was impossible, and she had decided that it would be easier to live her life among strangers, where she would be unhampered by old traditions and associations. Sounding titles flitted through the tale, brought in quite casually, but proving none the less impressive to a thoroughgoing republican. Miss Lucilla listened thoughtfully, glancing from time to time at the crests upon the letters she held. As a freeborn American she scorned to truckle to the effête aristocracy of Europe; but still, she admitted, there was really something pleasing about a title. Of course she had always been very particular about looking up references, but this was an exceptional case. She would consult Miss Emmeline. Now when Miss Lucilla says that she will consult Miss Emmeline, her mind is already made up. Miss Emmeline has never, by any chance, volunteered an opinion upon a subject without having first heard the elder sister's opinion upon the same subject. Having heard, she echoes. "I believe this young person will be a great addition to the staff," said Miss Lucilla. "I'm sure of it," murmured Miss Emmeline. "We might possibly mention in our next circular the names of the noble families with which she has been associated in France." "Certainly," echo answered. So Mademoiselle de Courcelles was engaged. Twenty-four hours later the new French teacher and three large trunks were installed in a small room on the top floor of the Ryder school. The size and number of the trunks excited comment among the servants, but the expressman who carried Mademoiselle's impedimenta up four flights of stairs noticed that the trunks were surprisingly light in weight. From the first Mademoiselle was a success, and by the time she had spent a fortnight in the school her popularity among the girls moved many of the teachers to jealousy, and even wakened in Belinda's heart a slight sense of injury to which she wouldn't have confessed for worlds. Miss Barnes, herself impervious alike to adoration or disapproval, expressed her opinion of the new comer with her usual frankness. "Cat!" she said calmly. "Graceful, sleek, purring, ingratiatory, but cat all the same." "She's very attractive," murmured Belinda. "Bad eyes," Miss Barnes commented curtly. "Handsome eyes." "All the worse for that. Mark my words, that woman isn't to be trusted."