If, as has been claimed by worthy persons who have made physiognomy their study, the eyes reflect one's native spirit, and the mouth proclaims one's acquired character, Belinda's spiritual and emotional heritage was in tears, but her mental habit challenged fate to hurl hall bedrooms _ad libitum_ at her curly head. She had wanted to come to New York. Well, she was in New York. The immortal Touchstone loomed up before her with his disgruntled protest: "Now am I in Arden. When I was at home I was in a better place." Belinda quoted the comment softly. Then suddenly she stopped winking and smiled. The chin and mouth incontinently abandoned their stubborn rôle, and showed what they could do in the line of curves and witchery. Dimples dashed boldly into the open. Belinda looked up at the large steel engraving of the Pyramids, which filled most of the room's available wall space, and the smile expanded into a laugh. When Belinda laughs, even a city hall bedroom is a cheerful place. "_J'y suis; j'y reste_," the young woman announced cheerfully to the largest Pyramid. It looked stolidly benignant. The sentiment was one it could readily understand. There came a tap upon the closed door. "Come in," called Belinda. The door opened, and a tall young woman dispassionately surveyed the scene. "It's a mathematical impossibility," she said gravely, "and that's expert testimony, for I'm Miss Barnes, the teacher of Mathematics. Don't apologize. I had this room myself the first year, and I got so used to it that when I moved to one that is six inches larger each way, I positively rattled around in it. Miss Ryder sent me to ask you to go to her sitting-room. I'll come and call as soon as you've unpacked and settled." She went away, and Belinda, after dabbing a powderpuff recklessly over her eyelids and nose, hurried to the private sitting-room, which was the Principal's sanctum. Miss Lucilla, slim, erect, well gowned, superior, sat at a handsome desk between the front windows. Miss Emmeline, a delightful wash drawing of her strongly etched sister, was talking with two twittering girls at the opposite end of the room. Miss Emmeline was always detailed to the sympathetic task. Her slightly vague gentleness was less disconcerting to sentimental or homesick pupils than Miss Lucilla's somewhat glacial dignity. Belinda hesitated upon the threshold. Miss Emmeline bestowed upon her a detached and impersonal smile. Miss Lucilla summoned her with an autocratic move of a slender hand, a gesture so imperious that it was with difficulty the new teacher refrained from an abject salaam.