Octagon Magic by Andre Norton Page B

taken in its making. She was going to lay him back in the drawer when she heard a faint squeak and looked up to see Sabina claw at the side of the house.
    “No—”
    But Lorrie was too late. The little claws touched some hidden spring and half the house moved, swinging back— the walls that covered the green bedroom and the kitchen. It moved easily though Sabina did not touch it again, but sat back to watch.
    Now Lorrie could see the interior in detail, much clearer than she had through the windows. And for a long moment or two she simply looked. One of the portions now revealed was the very room in which she sat. But it did not in the leastmirror the modern room. There was no rocking horse in miniature, no second doll house. Instead, on the now empty shelves along the wall were tiny books, and rows of minute jars and crocks. There was one chair in the corner—could it be a copy of the high-backed one Miss Ashemeade now used? And on the floor was a painted design instead of a carpet or rug. That resembled a star, Lorrie thought.
    But the oddest thing revealed by the opening of the outer wall was a three-cornered space between this room and the kitchen. When the house wall was shut that must be completely closed, as there was no opening into it from either this room or the kitchen. What was it meant for, Lorrie wondered. A cupboard? But then why no door to it?
    The kitchen absorbed her attention the most. It was in such detail. There were even baskets of vegetables and eggs on the table. All she could see the bread waiting in the oven. All it needed was a Hallie busy there to bring it to life.
    On impulse she put the boy doll by the fireplace. He was able to stand, Lorrie discovered, if you fixed his feet properly. Then she added the girl and lifted the egg basket from the table to hang on her arm. There!
    Carefully Lorrie swung the side of the house shut and crouched way down to peer through a window. Why, they looked real, as if they were going to move about their own business any minute. They belonged somehow just where she had put them.
    There must be a reason—
    Not understanding why, Lorrie got up and went to the horse. It was easier to get into the queer saddle now and shesettled herself on the horse with more confidence. Under her weight he began to rock....
    No wind blew today along the gravel road, but it was fall and leaves lay about. The white horse trotted toward Octagon House and again Lorrie felt that rise of excitement. Something was going to happen, something important—
    This time when she slid off onto the mounting block she did not go to the front door that had refused to admit her before. But, gathering her skirt up over her arm, she took the brick walk around the side. The trees and bushes growing along the fence were smaller and not tangled all together, but they made a screen. And it was a dark day with heavy clouds hanging overhead, cold in spite of the lack of wind.
    Lorrie came to the back steps and held her long skirt higher so she could climb them. But when she raised her hand to knock on the door it swung and she opened it. No Hallie stood there to bid her welcome.
    It was the same triangle with the two doors, one to Miss Ashemeade's room, one to the kitchen. The one to the red room was tightly closed, and when Lorrie tried to raise the old latch, it did not move. She remembered what Miss Ashemeade had said:
    “You may go through any door that will let you.”
    But Miss Ashemeade had said that about the other house. Or had she? Which was this, a doll house in the Octagon House, or the Octagon House itself in some strange way?
    The kitchen door, on the other hand, was standing ajar and Lorrie took that for an invitation. She came into warmth and good smells, and a feeling this was a good place to be. Therewas a big black pot on the range and from it came a soft bubbling noise. Lorrie sniffed the odor of fresh bread, and an even more mouth-watering spicy smell. On the table were all the things