The rectory at Harroway was by no means well furnished. It was a large, rambling old house. What carpets there were bore traces of wear and tear. The sofas were covered with untidy and torn chintzes. The landings had many of them bare boards destitute of any covering whatsoever; the bedrooms were _en suite_ with the rest of the house. But the garden, neglected as it was, was nevertheless a source of unfailing delight. It was an old garden, and had once been dearly loved and carefully tended by a rector who cared more for his flowers than for the souls committed to his care. In his day, roses had bloomed to perfection in this old-world garden, and all sorts of plants and flowers and shrubs had adorned the alleys and had cast their shade over the walks. This was some time ago, and the Reverend Josiah only employed a man once a week to give the garden just a sort of outside semblance of order. Nevertheless, Nature did not quite forsake the old spot. The unpruned roses still threw out luxuriant blossom, and the shrubs still bloomed and every sort of perennial flower--poppies, sweet peas, jasmine, mignonette sowed themselves and blossomed again and yet again. Now, the children cared nothing about flowers; they regarded them as little better than weeds, for anything that could be secured without money was to them simply worthless. Neither did they care for pets. There was no dog, nor even a cat, at the rectory. But they liked to sit under the shade of the old trees and, in particular, to invade the summerhouse, which stood back in deepest shade at the far corner of the grounds. Here, on this hot day, Nina found her two sisters with their pink muslin frills in a cloud about them, while they themselves were bending over the work. Nina appeared, severely armed with a pencil and paper. "Now,"--she said--"here I am." "Well, that is very evident," remarked Fanchon. "Why don't you sit down and do some work?" said Josephine. "My frock hasn't got any flounces." "Oh--how you will harp on that tiresome theme again!" "I won't--at least not for much longer," remarked the tiresome child; "but I've got something to say--I mean to do a little sum." "A sum!--you?" "Yes--and if I am wrong, Fanchon can help me--or you can, Josephine." "Not I," said Josephine, "my head aches too badly." "Well, well," said Nina, "let's begin--I know you will help me when I ask you. We were all with Brenda, were we not, when she bought the pink muslins?" "Why, of course we were, you stupid," said Fanchon. "Pass me that reel of cotton, please, Josephine." Josephine did so. Nina placed herself on a low stool and put her sheet of paper and pencil cosily on her knee. "I know exactly," she said, "how much muslin was bought: five yards for me, because I was not to have flounces; and seven yards for Josephine and eight yards for you, Fanchon, because you are the tallest."