She looked about.  There were the woods, to be sure, but half a mile away across the fields.  Near the house, there were no trees at all; only some lilac bushes at one side; there was no green grass either.  A gravel path took up the whole of the narrow front yard; and, what with the blazing color of the paint and the wide-awake look of the blindless windows, the house had somehow the air of standing on tip-toe and staring hard at something,—­the dust in the road, perhaps; for there seemed to be nothing to stare at.

Elsie’s heart sank indescribably, as she and John got very slowly out of the carryall, and Alexander, putting his arm over the fence, rapped loudly at the front door.  It was some minutes before the rap was answered.  Then a heavy step was heard creaking through the hall, and somebody began fumbling at an obstinate bolt, which would not move.  Next, a voice which they recognized as Mrs. Worrett’s called:  “Isaphiny, Isaphiny, come and see if you can open this door.”

“How funny!” whispered Johnnie, beginning to giggle.

“Isaphiny” seemed to be upstairs; for presently they heard her running down, after which a fresh rattle began at the obstinate bolt.  But still the door did not open, and at length Mrs. Worrett put her lips to the keyhole, and asked,—­

“Who is it?”

The voice sounded so hollow and ghostly, that Elsie jumped, as she answered:  “It’s I, Mrs. Worrett,—­Elsie Carr.  And Johnnie’s here, too.”

“Ts, ts, ts!” sounded from within, and then came a whispering; after which Mrs. Worrett put her mouth again to the keyhole, and called out:  “Go round to the back, children.  I can’t make this door open anyway.  It’s swelled up with the damp.”

“Damp!” whispered Johnnie; “why, it hasn’t rained since the third week in August; papa said so yesterday.”

“That’s nothing, Miss Johnnie,” put in Alexander, overhearing her.  “Folks hereaway don’t open their front doors much,—­only for weddings and funerals and such like.  Very likely this has stood shut these five years.  I know the last time I drove Miss Carr out, before she died, it was just so; and she had to go round to the back, as you’re a-doing now.”

John’s eyes grew wide with wonder; but there was no time to say any thing, for they had turned the corner of the house, and there was Mrs. Worrett waiting at the kitchen door to receive them.  She looked fatter than ever, Elsie thought; but she kissed them both, and said she was real glad to see a Carr in her house at last.

“It was too bad,” she went on, “to keep you waiting so.  But the fact is I got asleep and when you knocked, I waked up all in a daze, and for a minute it didn’t come to me who it must be.  Take the bags right upstairs, Isaphiny; and put them in the keeping-room chamber.  How’s your pa, Elsie,—­and Katy?  Not laid up again, I hope.”

“Oh, no; she seems to get better all the time.”