er declarations. Though, for
that matter, she is seldom anything else. I don't mean bad-tempered, but
seldom anything but erratic. So, dearest, I mustn't let you keep me any
longer. Don't forget to ask Maunder for the stickphast, and anything else
you want. And the prints and the scissors----"

"Yes, I know," nodded Trix cheerfully, "on the writing table. Hurry, Aunt
Lilla, or they'll all be swearing."

"Oh, my dearest, I trust not. Though perhaps interiorly. And even that is
a sin. I remember----"

Trix propelled her gently but firmly from the room. Doubtless Mrs.
Arbuthnot continued her remembrances "interiorly" as she went down the
passage and descended the stairs.

Ten minutes later, Trix, provided with the stickphast, the green
envelope, the scissors, and the clean blotting-paper, and having a very
large album spread open before her on a table, was busily engaged with
the prints. They were mainly views of Llandrindod Wells, though there
were quite a good many groups among them, as well as a fair number of
single figures. Trix herself appeared chiefly in these last,--Trix in a
hat, Trix without a hat, Trix smiling, serious, standing, or sitting.

For half an hour or so Trix worked industriously, indefatigably. She
trimmed off dark edges, she applied stickphast, she adjusted the prints
in careful positions, she smoothed them down neatly with the clean
blotting-paper. At the end of that time, she paused to let the paste dry
somewhat before turning the page.

With a view to whiling away the interval, she possessed herself of a
sister album, one of the many relations stacked against a wall, choosing
it haphazard from among the number.

There is a distinct fascination in photographs which recall early
memories. Trix fell promptly under the spell of this fascination. The
minutes passed, finding her engrossed, absorbed. Turning a page she came
upon views of Byestry, herself--a white-robed, short-skirted small
person--appearing in the foreground of many.

Trix smiled at the representations. It really was rather an adorable
small person. It was so slim-legged, mop-haired, and elfin-smiled. It was
seen, for the most part, lavishing blandishments on a somewhat ungainly
puppy. One photograph, however, represented the small person in company
with a boy.

Trix looked at this photograph, and suddenly amazement fell full upon
her. She looked, she leant back in her chair and shut her eyes, and then
she looked again. Yes;