'I think we're all living very lazy lives,' said Elfie, as she picked a climbing rose beside her and placed it in her belt; 'I feel as if every day here is one long holiday!'
'Well, we are not at school,' returned Clare; 'and I beg to state I have not been idle to-day. Attending to the flowers in the house every morning is no joke! I was nearly two hours over them; then I wrote letters and took them to the post before luncheon, and I have been mending a dress, and tidying my cupboards since.'
Gwen laughed a little derisively. 'You will never die of hard work, Clare.'
'I think it is harder work doing what I have done, than sitting still in the same chair from ten o'clock to one, and simply reading and writing!'
'Ted was asking for directions in the garden,' said Agatha, looking up; 'but when I peeped inside the study, Gwen, and saw you had one of your writing crazes on, I knew it was no good coming to you.'
'No, he has plenty of work, and I shall be occupied in the morning for some time now.'
'Why have you taken such a fit of it?' asked Clare. 'You're writing as if for your life.'
'I want money,' was the brief reply.
'What for?'
'That I shall not tell you at present. I want it so much, that I am even condescending to write silly stories, which I despise myself for doing.'