Mollie Gordon's home was in London, in the somewhat dull district of
North Kensington, where her father, Dr. Gordon, had a large but not
particularly lucrative practice, and her mother cheerfully made the
best of things from Monday morning till Sunday night. There were
five children: Mollie and her twin brother Dick; Jean, Billy, and
Bob. They lived in a large, ugly house, one of a long row of ugly
houses in a dull gardenless street, where the sidewalks were paved,
and the plane trees which bordered the road were stunted and dusty.
In the near neighbourhood ran a railway line, a car line, and four
bus routes, so that noise and dust were familiar elements in the
Gordons' lives--so familiar, indeed, that they passed unnoticed.

A month ago Mollie had been in the full swing of mid-term. Every
moment of her life had been taken up with lessons, games, and
Guiding; the days had been too short for all she wanted to get into
them, and, if she had been allowed, she would certainly have
followed the poet's advice to "steal a few hours from the night",
but, fortunately for herself, she had a sensible mother whose views
did not coincide with the poet's.

And then in the midst of all her busyness, just when she thought
herself quite indispensable to the school play, the hockey team, and
her Patrol, she fell ill with measles. She was not very ill, so far
as measles went, but her eyes remained obstinately weak, and so it
was decided that she should be sent down to the country to stay with
Grannie, do no lessons at all, and spend as much time as possible in
the open air. Luckily, or unluckily, according to the point of view,
none of the other children had caught the disease, so that Mollie
went alone to Chauncery, as Grannie's house in Sussex was called.