"You'd better come into the scullery," she said, "and shake the snow off," and she led them in silence to the back of the house, where she left them alone for nearly twenty minutes before she came back to ask them in to tea.
"It's in the drawing-room," she said, "and I hope you won't talk. I'm very strong and I have a big dog."
So they followed her into the drawing-room, and then a second, and even more wonderful, thing happened. Cuthbert stopped short, and so did Doris, and old Miss Hubbard switched round and stared at them.
"What's the matter?" she asked. "What are you gaping at?"
"Why, it's the penny room!" said Cuthbert; and so it was. For there was the queer high-backed piano; and there was the picture of people hunting; and there were the old-fashioned heavy ornaments.
"But where's the dog," said Doris, "the blue china dog that used to stand on the mantelpiece?"
Old Miss Hubbard had turned quite white.
"The blue china dog?" she asked. "What do you know about that? It was broken thirty years ago."
"But it's the same room," said Cuthbert, "and there was a girl in it, and she gave a man a penny for his thoughts."
Old Miss Hubbard began to tremble. She sat down heavily, and her eyes looked frightened.