A Little Princess

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Authors: Frances Hodgson Burnett
Tags: General, Juvenile Fiction
said. "What WERE they?"
    "Diamond mines," answered Mr. Barrow, "and dear friends—and
ruin."
    Miss Minchin lost her breath.
    "Ruin!" she gasped out.
    "Lost every penny. That young man had too much money. The dear
friend was mad on the subject of the diamond mine. He put all
his own money into it, and all Captain Crewe's. Then the dear
friend ran away—Captain Crewe was already stricken with fever
when the news came. The shock was too much for him. He died
delirious, raving about his little girl—and didn't leave a
penny."
    Now Miss Minchin understood, and never had she received such a
blow in her life. Her show pupil, her show patron, swept away
from the Select Seminary at one blow. She felt as if she had
been outraged and robbed, and that Captain Crewe and Sara and Mr.
Barrow were equally to blame.
    "Do you mean to tell me," she cried out, "that he left NOTHING!
That Sara will have no fortune! That the child is a beggar!
That she is left on my hands a little pauper instead of an
heiress?"
    Mr. Barrow was a shrewd businessman, and felt it as well to make
his own freedom from responsibility quite clear without any
delay.
    "She is certainly left a beggar," he replied. "And she is
certainly left on your hands, ma'am—as she hasn't a relation in
the world that we know of."
    Miss Minchin started forward. She looked as if she was going to
open the door and rush out of the room to stop the festivities
going on joyfully and rather noisily that moment over the
refreshments.
    "It is monstrous!" she said. "She's in my sitting room at this
moment, dressed in silk gauze and lace petticoats, giving a party
at my expense."
    "She's giving it at your expense, madam, if she's giving it,"
said Mr. Barrow, calmly. "Barrow & Skipworth are not
responsible for anything. There never was a cleaner sweep made
of a man's fortune. Captain Crewe died without paying OUR last
bill—and it was a big one."
    Miss Minchin turned back from the door in increased indignation.
This was worse than anyone could have dreamed of its being.
    "That is what has happened to me!" she cried. "I was always so
sure of his payments that I went to all sorts of ridiculous
expenses for the child. I paid the bills for that ridiculous
doll and her ridiculous fantastic wardrobe. The child was to
have anything she wanted. She has a carriage and a pony and a
maid, and I've paid for all of them since the last cheque came."
    Mr. Barrow evidently did not intend to remain to listen to the
story of Miss Minchin's grievances after he had made the
position of his firm clear and related the mere dry facts. He
did not feel any particular sympathy for irate keepers of
boarding schools.
    "You had better not pay for anything more, ma'am," he remarked,
"unless you want to make presents to the young lady. No one
will remember you. She hasn't a brass farthing to call her own."
    "But what am I to do?" demanded Miss Minchin, as if she felt it
entirely his duty to make the matter right. "What am I to do?"
    "There isn't anything to do," said Mr. Barrow, folding up his
eyeglasses and slipping them into his pocket. "Captain Crewe is
dead. The child is left a pauper. Nobody is responsible for her
but you."
    "I am not responsible for her, and I refuse to be made
responsible!"
    Miss Minchin became quite white with rage.
    Mr. Barrow turned to go.
    "I have nothing to do with that, madam," he said un-
interestedly. "Barrow & Skipworth are not responsible. Very
sorry the thing has happened, of course."
    "If you think she is to be foisted off on me, you are greatly
mistaken," Miss Minchin gasped. "I have been robbed and cheated;
I will turn her into the street!"
    If she had not been so furious, she would have been too discreet
to say quite so much. She saw herself burdened with an
extravagantly brought-up child whom she had always resented, and
she lost all self-control.
    Mr. Barrow undisturbedly moved toward the door.
    "I wouldn't do that, madam," he commented; "it wouldn't look
well. Unpleasant story to get

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