Maria, who talks to trees and petrol pumps and muses on such matters as why things turn out one way and not another, is just the type to see Harriet, a girl from a hundred-year-old photo, reflected in the glass framing a sampler done by the same girl. This happens on a seashore vacation when Maria and her parents have rented an early Victorian house; and though Maria, a sober eleven-year-old, is brought out a bit by a boy she meets there, she's also secretly preoccupied with a sense of time's obliteration and a feeling that Harriet is still about. Maria's conviction that Harriet died young proves false, but there was a landslide as she had sensed. . . . It was the dog she's heard barking who was killed, after Harriet's escape. Somehow the knowledge that Harriet grew up and changed helps Maria see that she will too--not much of a wrinkle, but it has dimension and it could pull others like Maria along with her.