l revolted from the notion of speculating upon possible advantages to
be gained from a relative's death. She would rather let Uncle Herbert
inherit everything than interfere for herself. But for her mother it was
a different matter. Aunt Harriet might wish her goddaughter to receive
part of her fortune, and to conceal the destruction of the will might
mean depriving Mrs. Woodward of a handsome legacy. How to make Miss
Beach realize the loss of the paper without getting Percy into trouble
was a problem that might have perplexed older and wiser heads.

Meanwhile it was holiday time, and there were many more pleasant
subjects to think about. Winona's Christmas present had been a small
hand camera, the very thing for which she had longed during the whole of
the past term. She contemplated it with the utmost satisfaction. Now she
would be able to join the Photographic Club at school, to go out on some
of the Saturday afternoon expeditions, and to have a few of her prints
in the Exhibition. She could take snap-shots of the girls and the
classroom, and make them into picture postcards to send to her mother,
and she could make a series of home photos to hang up in her bedroom at
Abbey Close. There seemed no limit indeed to the possibilities of her
new camera. She guarded it jealously from the prying fingers of the
younger members of the family.

"Paws off!" she commanded. "Anybody who interferes with this Kodak will
quarrel with me, so I give you full and fair warning! Oh, yes, Dorrie!
I dare say you'd just like to press the button! I'd guarantee your fairy
fingers to smash anything! It's 'mustn't touch, only look' where this is
concerned. No personal familiarities, please!"

December and January were scarcely propitious months for the taking of
snap-shots, but Winona attempted some time exposures, with varying
results. It was difficult to make the children realize the necessity of
keeping absolutely still, and they spoilt several of her plates by
grinning or moving. She secured quite a nice photo of the house,
however, and several of the village, and promised herself better luck
with family portraits when the summer came round again. She turned a
large cupboard in the attic into her dark-room, and spent many hours
dabbling among chemicals. She had urgent offers of help, but rejected
them steadfastly, greatly to the disappointment of her would-be
assistants. Her sanctum became a veritable Bluebeard's chamber, for to
prevent p