"
"May I come and have tea with you? I'd like it awfully."
"It'll be really tea--not pretend kind," Patience said. "But I'll have
that sort for any children who may come. Hilary takes pictures--she
doesn't make them though. Made pictures are nicer, aren't they?"
"Some of them." Harry glanced through the open doorway, to where
Hilary sat resting. She was "making" a picture now, he thought to
himself, in her white dress, under the big tree, her pretty hair
forming a frame about her thoughtful face. Taking a portfolio from a
table near by, he went out to where Hilary sat.
"Your small sister says you take pictures," he said, drawing a chair up
beside hers, "so I thought perhaps you'd let me show you these--they
were taken by a friend of mine."
"Oh, but mine aren't anything like these! These are beautiful!"
Hilary bent over the photographs he handed her; marveling over their
soft tones. They were mostly bits of landscape, with here and there a
water view and one or two fleecy cloud effects. It hardly seemed as
though they could be really photographs.
"I've never done anything like these!" she said regretfully. "I wish I
could--there are some beautiful views about here that would make
charming pictures.
Pages:
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162