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 all 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 here-away don't
