hich she felt the
situation demanded.

"Look, Sir William," she said. "I am sure you will be interested in this
one. That is Lord X. He is a little blurred, perhaps; still, when one
knows who it is, it is a very interesting memento, really. Look, Miss
Gore, this is the one I did when we were standing together. Do you
remember?"

"Oh! yes, of course," Rachel said. She did, as a matter of fact, very
well remember the occasion, the length of time that had been necessary
to adjust the legs of the camera, which appeared to have a miraculous
power of interweaving themselves into the legs of the spectators; the
piercing cry from Miss Tarlton at the feather of another lady's hat
coming across the field of vision just as the troops came within focus;
and a general sense of agitation which had prevented any one in the
photographer's immediate surroundings from contemplating with a detached
mind the military spectacle passing at their feet.

"These plates are really too small," said Miss Tarlton; "I have been
wishing ever since that I had brought my larger machine that day." Her
hearers did not find it in their hearts to echo this wish. "Of course,
though, a small machine is most delightfully convenient. It is so
portable, one need never be without it. I am told there is quite a tiny
one to be had now. Have you seen it, Sir William?"

"No, I haven't," said Sir William, in an entirely final and decided
manner. Miss Tarlton turned to Rendel as though to ask him, but saw that
he was standing apart with Rachel, apparently deep in conversation. She
felt that it was rather hard on Rachel to be called away when she might
have been enjoying the photographs.

"Do you know whether Mr. Rendel photographs?" she said to Lady Gore, in
a more subdued tone.

"I really don't know; I think not," Lady Gore said, amused in spite of
herself at her husband's rising exasperation, although she was conscious
of sharing it.

"Rendel," said Sir William, obliged to let his feelings find vent in
speech at the expense of his discretion, "Miss Tarlton is asking whether
you photograph?"

"I'm afraid I don't," said Rendel.

"Ah, I thought not," said Sir William, giving a sort of grunt of
satisfaction.

"It is only..." said Miss Tarlton, who had relapsed into her photographs
again, and was therefore constrained to speak in the sort of absent,
maundering tone of people who try to frame consecutive sentences while
they are looking over photographs or r