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 termined in court; but purely personal correspondence had come to this house, and Mrs. Wain had laid it upon the table in Agnes's room. Ethel glanced at this heap idly and turned over some of the envelopes, wondering who finally was to dispose of them.

There was a large, flat package from London, tied with cord and stamped with English postage; the censor had opened it, sealed it again and sent it on. The paper bore the legend, "Photographs."

Perhaps only because it was from London, and so much of deep interest to Ethel had come by post thence that she examined this package hesitantly and then decided to open it.

She found three photographs, all identical, of a group of young men in uniform who appeared to be officers of the Canadian and of the American armies. The faces were all strange to Ethel until, with a start which stopped the beat of her heart, she recognized Barney Loutrelle. He was neither the most nor the least prominent of the group which counted eleven members; he was standing a little to the right of the center and in the second row; but in each of the prints his identity was unmistakable.

It might be—Ethel argued hollowly with herself—it might be merely a coincidence. Cousin Agnes might have known any of the other men; she had done a marvellous amount of work during the war and had made friends with hundreds of soldiers. But Barney was in that picture of which she had desired three prints; a receipt from the photographer, mailed with the prints, proved that Mrs. Oliver Cullen herself had ordered and paid for the pictures.

Ethel resolved that she must discover the meaning, if possible; so she set to examining the rest of Agnes's