In the first place the girls developed a mad passion for walking around the block. Formerly they had begged her to ramble to Fifth Avenue and to the Park. One saw more pedestrians on the avenue than elsewhere at that hour of the morning; and, if one walked to the Park, one might perchance be late for chapel and have to stay out in the hall until it was over. But now Fifth Avenue held no charms; the Park did not beckon. Round and round the home block the crocodile dragged its length, with Amelia and Laura May at its head and Belinda bringing up the rear. Men were leaving their homes on their way to business, and every time a young man made his appearance upon the steps of one of the houses on the circuit something like an electric shock ran along the school line and the crocodile quivered from head to tail.
The problem was too much for the Youngest Teacher. She led her charges home in time for chapel, and meditated deeply during the morning session.
Late on that same afternoon Belinda was conferring with Miss Lucilla Ryder when the maid brought a card to the principal.
"'Mr. Satterly'—I don't know the gentleman. What did he look like, Katy?"
"Turribly prosperous, ma'am."
"Ah! possibly some one with a daughter. Miss Carewe, will you go down with me? I am greatly pressed for time. Perhaps this is something you could attend to."
Belinda followed the stately figure in softly flowing black. Miss Ryder always looked the part. No parent could fail to see her superiority and be impressed.
The little old gentleman who rose to greet them in the reception-room was not, however, awed by Miss Lucilla's gracious elegance.
He was a corpulent, red-faced little man with a bristling moustache and a nervous manner; his voice when he spoke was incisive and crisp.
"Miss Ryder, I presume."