2 
THE DECISION 
important places in that part of the country. Nev- 
ertheless, in Nestly to-day gardens are still thought 
quite as important as houses, which can never be 
true in a large city. 
For generations our great-aunt’s place has been 
called the Six Spruces, because at a short distance 
in front of the house there stands in a circle that 
number of spruce trees, their great, out-held 
branches enclosing, according to the season, a sum- 
mer house or supporting one of snow. Joseph, 
who is barely thirteen, and much in sympathy with 
the lore of fairy folk and the adventures of pirates, 
thinks a great deal of these trees. I am four years 
his senior, besides being his sister and natural guar- 
dian. To me, as to Joseph, these six spruces seem 
the most wonderful trees in the world. 
When my brother and I are alone, I call him 
“Little Joseph,” although he is now so well grown 
for his age that he dislikes me to do' so when neigh- 
bours are present. At first we were both chagrined 
that our inherited mansion was so' severe in looks 
and so dilapidated, because our means for making 
alterations are small. This, however, has not in- 
terfered with Joseph’s lasting admiration for the 
cupola, which reminds him of a sentry box, and 
neither of us would exchange the Six Spruces for 
the highly cultivated acres of our neighbour, Mr. 
Hayden of Nestly Heights. 
Within, the seriousness of our aunt’s disposition 
was indicated by the plain furniture and walls, 
