her good-by."

If seemed to Everychild that perhaps this would be a wise thing to do.
"And shall we wait for you?" he asked.

"You might just go along with me, if the others will wait, to make sure
there isn't any foul play."

To this plan Everychild readily agreed; and after he had explained the
situation to his companions, he set off with the new boy along a path
which branched off from the road.

"My name is Tom," explained the boy. "Tom Hubbard." And after that
they continued their way in silence.

They arrived, after no great journey, at a very prim little house, set
down in a very prim little garden. Curtains hung in the windows just
so, and the door-knob shone like gold. The only friendly thing about
the place was a little black dog with a rough coat and great wistful
eyes, which came running down the walk to leap up before the boy Tom,
trying to lick his hands.

They entered the house, and the instant Everychild crossed the
threshold he realized that he had never seen a house quite like this
one. It made you think of a very careful drawing. Everything was at
right angles with everything else. A small table stood precisely in
the middle of the floor, and two really silly little chairs were placed
before it. A spick-and-span cupboard, with a perforated tin front,
stood over against the wall.