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In a roomy old world cottage on the west side of Hitherfield, Philippa Goldfinch lived with her father, a retired doctor of small means and a man devoted to science and research of various kinds. He was a perfect child in all worldly matters, in spite of his wonderful store of general knowledge, and he might have been quite comfortable in his simple way but for the fact that he was ever ready to believe everything that he heard, and take human nature, generally at its own valuation. He was always going to make a fortune in some mysterious way, and ever indulging in fond dreams that obsessed him every time a fresh company prospectus came into his hands. It was part of Philippa's business in life to get hold of these and destroy them before they reached her father's hand, or there would have been nothing left to live on. For the rest, a fairly good annuity, paid monthly, by a wealthy brother of the doctor's, was the mainstay of the household.
The garden of the cottage was one of Philippa's chief delights. Here she spent most of her time in the spring and summer, with the doctor usually in close attendance, for his botanical knowledge was minute, and he was constantly experimenting with new plants and rock vegetation of various kinds.