Free A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett

jesting way, 'I am afraid she will be very rich, Miss Minchin.'
My reply was, 'Her education at my seminary, Captain Crewe, shall
be such as will adorn the largest fortune.' Sara has become my
most accomplished pupil. Her French and her dancing are a credit
to the seminary. Her manners—which have caused you to call her
Princess Sara—are perfect. Her amiability she exhibits by
giving you this afternoon's party. I hope you appreciate her
generosity. I wish you to express your appreciation of it by
saying aloud all together, 'Thank you, Sara!'"
    The entire schoolroom rose to its feet as it had done the
morning Sara remembered so well.
    "Thank you, Sara!" it said, and it must be confessed that Lottie
jumped up and down. Sara looked rather shy for a moment. She
made a curtsy—and it was a very nice one.
    "Thank you," she said, "for coming to my party."
    "Very pretty, indeed, Sara," approved Miss Minchin. "That is
what a real princess does when the populace applauds her.
Lavinia"—scathingly—"the sound you just made was extremely
like a snort. If you are jealous of your fellow-pupil, I beg you
will express your feelings in some more lady-like manner. Now
I will leave you to enjoy yourselves."
    The instant she had swept out of the room the spell her presence
always had upon them was broken. The door had scarcely closed
before every seat was empty. The little girls jumped or tumbled
out of theirs; the older ones wasted no time in deserting
theirs. There was a rush toward the boxes. Sara had bent over
one of them with a delighted face.
    "These are books, I know," she said.
    The little children broke into a rueful murmur, and Ermengarde
looked aghast.
    "Does your papa send you books for a birthday present?" she
exclaimed. "Why, he's as bad as mine. Don't open them, Sara."
    "I like them," Sara laughed, but she turned to the biggest box.
When she took out the Last Doll it was so magnificent that the
children uttered delighted groans of joy, and actually drew back
to gaze at it in breathless rapture.
    "She is almost as big as Lottie," someone gasped.
    Lottie clapped her hands and danced about, giggling.
    "She's dressed for the theater," said Lavinia. "Her cloak is
lined with ermine."
    "Oh," cried Ermengarde, darting forward, "she has an opera-glass
in her hand—a blue-and-gold one!"
    "Here is her trunk," said Sara. "Let us open it and look at her
things."
    She sat down upon the floor and turned the key. The children
crowded clamoring around her, as she lifted tray after tray and
revealed their contents. Never had the schoolroom been in such
an uproar. There were lace collars and silk stockings and
handkerchiefs; there was a jewel case containing a necklace and a
tiara which looked quite as if they were made of real diamonds;
there was a long sealskin and muff, there were ball dresses and
walking dresses and visiting dresses; there were hats and tea
gowns and fans. Even Lavinia and Jessie forgot that they were
too elderly to care for dolls, and uttered exclamations of
delight and caught up things to look at them.
    "Suppose," Sara said, as she stood by the table, putting a
large, black-velvet hat on the impassively smiling owner of all
these splendors—"suppose she understands human talk and feels
proud of being admired."
    "You are always supposing things," said Lavinia, and her air was
very superior.
    "I know I am," answered Sara, undisturbedly. "I like it. There
is nothing so nice as supposing. It's almost like being a fairy.
If you suppose anything hard enough it seems as if it were
real."
    "It's all very well to suppose things if you have everything,"
said Lavinia. "Could you suppose and pretend if you were a
beggar and lived in a garret?"
    Sara stopped arranging the Last Doll's ostrich plumes, and looked
thoughtful.
    "I BELIEVE I could," she said. "If one was a beggar, one would
have to suppose and pretend all the time. But it mightn't be
easy."
    She often thought afterward how strange it was that just as she
had finished