Later, the culprit smiled understandingly at her image in the mirror as she dressed for church.  “I did not know I could be so catty,” she told her reflection, “but I don’t care.  She hadn’t any right to have that darling picture.  Ugly, indeed!” The blue eyes snapped and then became reflective.  “Only she didn’t think it ugly any more than I did.  It was just talk.  She was certainly furious when the film rubbed off.  I wonder—­” She fastened the last dark tress of hair, still wondering.

All the way to church she wondered, walking demurely with Jane up Oliver’s Hill, while Mary, nervously gay, fluttered on a step or two ahead.  Jane found her unresponsive that morning.  The acquaintances they passed found her distant.  They wondered if Esther Coombe were becoming “stuck up” since she had a school of her own?  For although, as Miss Agnes Smith said, it is not quite the thing to do more than nod and smile on the way to church, one doesn’t need to pass one’s friends looking like an absent-minded funeral.

Poor Esther!  She saw nobody because she looked for only one.

“Oh, Esther, Mrs. Sykes has a new bonnet.  There she is, Esther, look!”

“Very pretty,” murmured Esther absently.

Jane dropped her hand.  “You’re blind as well as deaf, Esther.  It’s perfectly, dreadfully awful, and you know it!”

Thus abjured, Esther managed to look at Mrs. Sykes’ bonnet.  And, having looked, she laughed.  Mrs. Sykes had certainly surpassed herself in bonnets.  And poor Ann, her skirts were stiffer, her pig-tails tighter and her small face more mutinous than ever.  The doctor was not of the party.  Esther had known that, long before Jane had noticed the bonnet.

Still, there was nothing in that.  He did not always walk with Ann to church.  He might not come up Oliver’s Hill at all.  He might come from the opposite direction.  He might be in church already.  Esther’s step quickened.  But she had no excuse for hurry.  Unless one sang in the choir or were threatened with lateness it was not etiquette to push ahead of any one on Oliver’s Hill.  Decently and in order was the motto, so Esther was sharply reminded when she had almost trodden on the unhastening heels of Mrs. Elder MacTavish.

Mrs. MacTavish turned in surprise but, seeing Esther, relaxed into the usual Sunday smile and bow.

“Good morning, Esther.  Good morning, Mrs. Coombe.  Good morning, Jane.  What perfect weather we are having.  You are all well, I hope?”

“Very well, thank you.”

“And dear Miss Amy?”

“Very well indeed.”

“So sad that she never cares to come to church.  But of course one understands.  And it must be a satisfaction to you all that she keeps so well.  I said to Mr. MacTavish only last night that I felt sure Dr. Callandar was not being called in professionally.  That is the worst of being a doctor.  One can hardly attend to one’s social duties without arousing fear for the health of one’s friends.  Not that Dr. Callandar is overly sociable, usually.”