photographer, probably."

Esther shrugged her shoulders and laid the photo carelessly upon the
table. So careless was she, in fact, that a sharp "Look out!" from Jane
did not prevent a sudden jerk of her elbow upsetting her steaming cup of
coffee right over the pictured face.

With an angry exclamation, Mary sprang forward to rescue her property
but Esther had already picked it up and was endeavouring to repair the
damage with her table napkin.

"Oh, do take care!" said Mary irritably. "Don't rub so _hard_--you'll
rub all the film off--there! What did I tell you?"

"Dear me! who would ever have dreamed it would rub off that easily?"
Esther surveyed the crumpled bits of photo with convincing dismay.

"Any one, with sense. It's ruined--how utterly stupid of you, Esther."
Mary's voice quivered with anger. "You provoking thing! I believe you
did it on purpose."

The cold stare from the girl's eyes stopped her, but she added
fretfully, "You are always doing things to annoy me. I can't think why,
I'm sure."

"She was trying to dry it," declared Jane, belligerently. "She didn't
mean to hurt the old photo. Did you, darling?"

"I can hardly see what my motive could have been," said Esther politely,
rising from the table. She had deliberately tried to destroy the
photograph and was exultantly glad that she had succeeded, yet, so
quickly does the actress instinct develop under the spur of necessity,
that her face and manner showed only amused tolerance of such a foolish
suspicion.

Later, the culprit smiled understandingly at her image in the mirror as
she dressed for church. "I did not know I could be so catty," she told
her reflection, "but I don't care. She hadn't any right to have that
darling picture. Ugly, indeed!" The blue eyes snapped and then became
reflective. "Only she didn't think it ugly any more than I did. It was
just talk. She was certainly furious when the film rubbed off. I
wonder--" She fastened the last dark tress of hair, still wondering.

All the way to church she wondered, walking demurely with Jane up
Oliver's Hill, while Mary, nervously gay, fluttered on a step or two
ahead. Jane found her unresponsive that morning. The acquaintances they
passed found her distant. They wondered if Esther Coombe were becoming
"stuck up" since she had a school of her own? For although, as Miss
Agnes Smith said, it is not quite the thing to do more than nod and
smile on the way to church, one doesn't need to pass