"
"She didn't in the beginning," Harry said, "She's lame; it was an
accident, but she can never be quite well again, so she took this up,
as an amusement at first, but now it's going to be her profession."
Hilary bent over the photographs again. "And you really think--anyone
could learn to do it?"
"No, not anyone; but I don't see why the right sort of person couldn't."
"I wonder--if I could develop into the right sort."
"May I come and see what you have done--and talk it over?" Harry asked.
"Since this friend of mine took it up, I'm ever so interested in camera
work."
"Indeed you may," Hilary answered. She had never thought of her camera
holding such possibilities within it, of its growing into something
better and more satisfying than a mere playmate of the moment.
"Rested?" Pauline asked, coming up. "Supper's nearly ready."
"I wasn't very tired. Paul, come and look at these."
Supper was served on the lawn; the pleasantest, most informal, of
affairs, the presence of the older members of the party serving to turn
the gay give and take of the young folks into deeper and wider
channels, and Shirley's frequent though involuntary--"Do you remember,
Senior?" calling out more than one vivid bit of travel, of description
of places, known to most of them only through books.
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