You know how they look in photographs sometimes. I s'pose that's the
reason that the men who make these images don't put any more on.
There! I must show you my photograph album, Esther."

Mrs. Maxwell took a heavy album with gilt clasps from the
centre-table, and drew a chair close to Mrs. Field.

"Now you get a chair, an' come on the other side, Lois," said she,
"an' I can show 'em to both of you."

Lois obeyed, and Mrs. Maxwell turned over the album leaves and
explained the pictures.

"This is a lady I used to know," said she. "She lived in North
Elliot. She's dead now. That's her husband; he's married again. His
second wife's kind of silly. Ain't much like the first one. She was a
real stepper. That's Flora Lowe's baby--the first one--an' that's
Flora. I think it flatters her. That's my Flora. It ain't very good.
She looks terrible sober. There's my poor husband. I s'pose you
remember him, Esther? Of course you know how he used to look. Do you
think it's a good likeness?"

"I don't know. I guess it's pretty good, ain't it?" stammered Mrs.
Field.

"Well, some think it is, and some don't. I ain't never liked it very
well myself, but it was all I had. It was taken some years before he
died. I guess jest about the time you was down here. There! I s'pose
you know whose this is?"