A Little Princess, Part 15 of 15

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That's deepsleepsounds.com forward slash bookshelf. Good evening and welcome to the Sleepy Bookshelf where we put down our worries from the day and pick up a good book. I'm your host Elizabeth. Thank you so much for coming tonight. This evening we are reading the final pages of a little princess. But before we open our book, take some time here for yourself to breathe and relax. Take a big stretch and release any tension you might be holding in your muscles. Take this time to focus on how your body feels and to physically and mindfully let go. Next, take a deep breath in, holding it for a moment. And now exhale, breathing out all your worries and concerns. Once more now, inhale, holding it a moment and exhale. Wonderful. Last time, Mr. Carousford eagerly awaited the return of Mr. Carmichael of the large family who was due to return from his Russian reconnaissance any moment. When he did, however, it was with disappointing news. The little girl they had trapped down there was Emily Crew and too young to be the captain's daughter. Carousford dejectedly went back to the drawing board and Carmichael suggested they tried London since France and Russia had been fruitless. It was then that Sarah arrived to deliver Ramdass's monkey home. Carousford quickly explained all they had been doing for the little girl in the attic next door and admitted her to see them. When she referred to Ramdass as Alaska, she had to explain that she knew what that was because she had been born in India. Mr. Carousford sat alert. Sarah told him her story in brief and the excitement made him weak. Mr. Carmichael continued the questioning and it wasn't long until it was established that Sarah was the girl they had been searching for all along. Carousford fell into a fit of hysterics and Sarah was escorted from the room while Mrs. Carmichael was called for who revealed to her that the Indian gentleman had been responsible for all of Sarah's magic. When she returned to him, he told her she would never go back to the seminary just as Miss Minchin arrived to retrieve her wandering people. Mr. Carmichael told her the situation and Miss Minchin left furious and that is just where we pick up tonight with Miss Minchin returning to the seminary. So just lie back and relax as I turn to the final pages of a little princess. Chapter 18 She returned home and going to her sitting room sent at once for Miss Amelia. She sat, closeted with her all the rest of the afternoon and it must be admitted that poor Miss Amelia passed through more than one bad quarter of an hour. She shed a good many tears and mocked her eyes a good deal. One of her unfortunate remarks almost caused her sister to snap her head entirely off but it resulted in an unusual manner. I'm not as clever as you sister. She said, and I'm always afraid to say things to you for fear of making you angry. Perhaps if I were not so timid it would be better for the school and for both of us. I must say I've often thought it would have been better if you had been less severe on Sarah crew than had seen that she was decently dressed and more comfortable. I know she was worked too hard for a child of her age and I know she was only half fed. How dare you say such a thing! Exclaimed Miss Minchin. I don't know how I dare. Miss Amelia answered with a kind of reckless courage. But now I've begun I may as well finish. Whatever happens to me, the child was a clever child and a good child and she would have paid you for any kindness you had shown her but she didn't show her any. The fact was she was too clever for you and you always disliked her for that reason. She used to see through us both. Amelia gasped her infuriated elder. Looking as if she would box her ears and knock her cap off. As she had often done to Becky. But Miss Amelia's disappointment had made her hysterical enough not to care what occurred next. She did! She did! She cried. She saw through us both. She saw that she were a hard-hearted, worldly woman. At the time it was a week full and that we were both of us vulgar and mean enough to grovel on our knees for her money and behave ill to her because it was taken from her. Though she behaved herself like a little princess even when she was a beggar. She did! She did! Like a little princess! And her hysterics got the better of the poor woman and she began to laugh and cry both at once and rock herself backward and forward. And now you have lost her? She cried wildly. And some other school will get her and her money and if she were like any other child she'd tell how she's been treated and all our pupils would be taken away and we should be ruined and it serves us right. But it serves you right more than it does me for you are a hard woman, Maria Binchid you are a hard selfish, worldly woman. And she was in danger of making so much noise with her hysterical chokes and gurgles that her sister was obliged to go to her and apply salts and sell volatile to quiet her instead of pouring forth her indignation at her audacity. And from that time forward it may be mentioned the elder misminshin actually began to stand a little in awe of a sister who, while she looked so foolish, was evidently not quite so foolish as she looked and might, consequently, break out and speak truths people did not want to hear. That evening when the pupils were gathered together before the fire in the school room as was their custom before going to bed. Ermengard came in with a letter in her hand and a queer expression on her round face. It was queer because while it was an expression of delighted excitement, it was combined with such amazement, a seemed to belong to a kind of shock just received. What is the matter cried to or three voices at once? Is it anything to do with the roul that has been going on? Said Levinia eagerly. There has been such a roul in misminshin's room. Miss Amelia had something like hysterics and has had to go to bed. Ermengard answered them slowly as if she were half stunned. I've just had this letter from Sarah. She said, holding it out to let them see what a long letter it was. From Sarah, every voice joined in that exclamation. Where is she? Almost shrieked, Jesse. Lext, who? Said Ermengard. With the Indian gentlemen. Where? Where has she been sent away? Does Miss Minchin know? Was that what the roul was about? Why did she write? Tell us, tell us. There was a perfect babble and lot he began to cry plaintively. Ermengard answered them slowly as if she were half plunged out into what at that moment seemed the most important and self-explaining thing. There were diamond mites. She said stoutly. There were. Open mouths and open eyes confronted her. They were real. She harried on. It was all a mistake about them. Something happened for a time the Mr. Carisford thought they were ruined. Who is Mr. Carisford? Shouting, Jesse. The Indian gentlemen. And Captain Kruth thought so too. And he died. And Mr. Carisford had brain fever and ran away and he almost died. And he did not know where Sarah was. And it turned out that there were millions and millions of diamonds in the minds. And half of them belonged to Sarah. And they belonged to her when she was living in the attic with no one but Melchistadek as a friend. And the cook ordering her about. And Mr. Carisford found her this afternoon. And he has got her in his home and she will never come back. And she will be more princess than she ever was. 150,000 times more. And I'm going to see her tomorrow afternoon. There. Even Miss Minchin herself could scarcely have controlled the uproar after this. And though she heard the noise, she did not try. She was not in the mood to face anything more than she was facing in her room while Miss Amelia was weeping in bed. She knew that the mues had penetrated the walls in some mysterious manner and that every servant and every child would go to bed talking about it. So until almost midnight, entire seminary, realizing somehow that all rules were laid aside, crowded round Ermungard in the school room, and heard, read and reread the letter containing a story which was quite as wonderful as any Sarah herself had ever invented. And which had the amazing charm of having happened to Sarah herself and the mystic Indian gentleman in the very next house. Becky, who had heard it also, managed to creep upstairs earlier than usual. She wanted to get away from people and go and look at the little magic room once more. She did not know what would happen to it. It was not likely that it would be left to Miss Minchin. It would be taken away and the attic would be bare and empty again. Glad as she was for Sarah's sake, she went up the last flight of stairs with a lump in her throat and tears blurring her sight. There would be no fire tonight and no rosy lamp, no supper, no princess sitting in the glow, reading or telling stories, no princess. She choked down a sob as she pushed the attic door open and then she broke into a low cry. The lamp was flashing the room, the fire was blazing, the supper was waiting and rammed us with standing, smiling into her startled face. Missy Sahiba remembered, he said, she told the Sahibaor. She wished you to know the good fortune which has befallen her. A hold a letter on the tray she has written. She did not wish that she should go to sleep unhappy. The Sahiba commands you to come to him tomorrow. You ought to be the attendant of Missy Sahiba. Tonight I take these things back over the roof. And having said this with a beaming face, he made a little salam and slipped through the skylight with an agile sileness of movement which showed Becky how easily he had done it before. Chapter 19 Anne Never had such joy reigned in the nursery of the large family. Never had they dreamed of such dead lights as resulted from an intimate acquaintance with the little girl who was not a beggar. The mere fact of her sufferings and adventures made her a priceless possession. Everybody wanted to be told over and over again the things which had happened to her. When one was sitting by a warm fire in a big glowing room, it was quite delightful to hear how cold it could be in an attic. It must be admitted that the attic was rather delighted in and that it's coldness and banners quite sank into insignificance when Melchizedek was remembered. And one heard about the sparrows and things one could see if one climbed on the table and stuck one's head and shoulders out of the skylight. Of course the thing loved best was the story of the banquet and the dream which was true. Sarah told it for the first time the day after she had been found. Several members of the large family came to take tea with her and as they sat or curled up on the half-rug, she told the story in her own way and the Indian gentleman listened and watched her. When she had finished she looked up at him and put her hand on his knee. She said, now ain't she tell your part of it Uncle Tom? He had asked her to call him always Uncle Tom. I don't know your part yet and it must be beautiful. So he told them how, when he sat alone, ill and dull and irritable, Ram Das had tried to distract him by describing the past as by and there was one child who passed oftener than anyone else. He had begun to be interested in her, partly perhaps because he was thinking a great deal of a little girl and partly because Ram Das had been able to relate the incident of his visit to the attic in chase of the monkey. He had described its cheerless look and the bearing of the child who seemed as if she was not of the class of those who were treated as drudges and servants. Bit by bit, Ram Das had made discoveries concerning the wretchedness of her life. He had found out how easier matter it was to climb across the few yards of roof to the skylight and this fact had been the beginning of all that followed. So he had said one day, I could cross the slates and make the child a fire when she is out on some errand, when she returned wet and cold to find it blazing she would think her magician had done it. The idea had been so fanciful that Mr. Caroussford's sad face had lighted with a smile and Ram Das had been so filled with rapture that he hid in large upon it and explained to his master how simple it would be to accomplish numbers of things. He had shown a child like pleasure and invention and the preparations for the carrying out of the plan had filled many a day with interest which would otherwise have dragged weirily. On the night of the frustrated banquet, Ram Das had kept watch all his packages being in readiness in the attic which was his own and the person who was to help him had waited with him as interested as himself in the order of adventure. Ram Das had been lying flat upon the slates looking in at the skylight when the banquet had come to its disastrous conclusion. He had been sure of the profoundness of Sarah's weary sleep and then with a dark lantern he had crept into the room while his companion remained outside and handed the things to him. When Sarah had stirred ever so faintly, Ram Das had closed the lantern slide and lain flat upon the floor. These and many other exciting things the children found out by asking a thousand questions. I'm so glad, Sarah said, I'm so glad it was you who were my friend. There never were such friends as these two became. Somehow they seemed to suit each other in a wonderful way. The Indian gentleman had never had a companion he liked quite as much as he liked Sarah. In a month's time he was as Mr. Carmichael had prophesied he would be a new man. He was always amused and interested and he began to find an actual pleasure in the possession of the wealth he had imagined and he loathed the burden of. There were so many charming things to plan for Sarah. There was a little joke between them that he was a magician and it was one of his pleasures to invent things to surprise her. She found beautiful new flowers growing in her room. Womzical little gifts tucked under pillows and once as they sat together in the evening they heard the scratch of a heavy paw on the door and when Sarah went to find out what it was, there stood a great dog, a splendid Russian boar hound with a grand silver and gold collar bearing an inscription. I am Boris it read, I serve the princess Sarah. There was nothing the Indian gentleman loved more than the recollection of the little princess in rags and tatters. The afternoons in which the large family or amen god and lotty gathered to rejoice together were very delightful. But the hours when Sarah and the Indian gentleman sat alone and read or talked had a special charm of their own. During their passing many interesting things occurred. One evening Mr. Carousford looking up from his book noticed that his companion had not stirred for some time but sat gazing into the fire. What are you supposing Sarah? He asked. Sarah looked up with a bright color on her cheek. I was supposing she said. I was remembering that hungry day and a child I saw. But there were a great many hungry days. Said the Indian gentleman with a rather sad tone in his voice. Which hungry day was it? I forgot she didn't know. Said Sarah. It was the day the dream came true. Then she told him the story of the bun shop and the four pints she picked up out of the sloppy mud and the child who was hungryer than herself. She told it quite simply and in as few words as possible. But somehow the Indian gentleman found it necessary to shade his eyes with his hands and look down at the carpet. And I was supposing a kind of plan she said when she had finished. I was thinking I should like to do something. What was it? Said Mr. Carousford in a low tone. She may do anything you like to do princess. I was wondering rather hesitated Sarah. You know you say I have so much money. I was wondering if I could go to see the bun woman and tell her that if when hungry children particularly on those dreadful days come and sit on the steps or look in at the window she would just call them in and give them something to eat. She might send the bills to me. Could I do that? You shall do it tomorrow morning. Said the Indian gentleman. Thank you. Said Sarah. You see I know what it is to be hungry and it is very hard when one cannot even pretend it away. Yes, yes my dear. Said the Indian gentleman. Yes, yes it must be. Try to forget it. Come and sit on this footstool near my knee and only remember you are a princess. Yes, said Sarah smiling and I can give buns and bread to the populace. Yes. And she went and sat on the stool and the Indian gentleman used to like her to call him that too sometimes. Drew her small dark head down on his knee and stroked her hair. The next morning, Ms. Minchin, in looking out of her window, saw the things she perhaps least enjoyed seeing. The Indian gentleman's carriage with its tall horses drew up before the door of the next house and its owner and a little figure, warm with soft, rich furs, descended the steps to get into it. The little figure was a familiar one and reminded Ms. Minchin of days in the past. It was followed by another as familiar, the sight of which she found very irritating. It was Becky, who in the character of a delighted attendant, always accompanied her young mistress to her carriage, carrying raps and belongings. Already Becky had a pink round face. A little later, the carriage drew up before the door of the baker's shop and its occupants got out. Oddly enough, just as the bun woman was putting a tray of smoking hot buns into the window. When Sarah entered the shop, the woman turned and looked at her and leaving the buns came and stood behind the counter. For a moment she looked at Sarah very hard indeed and then her good-natured face lighted up. I am sure that I remember you, Ms. She said. And yet, yes, said Sarah. Once you gave me six buns for four pints and Anne, you gave five of them to a beggar child. The woman broke in on her. I've always remembered it. Couldn't make it out at first. She turned round to the Indian gentleman and spoke her next words to him. Her back your pardon, sir. But there's not many young people that notices an angry face in that way and have thought of it many a time. Excuse the liberty, Ms. To Sarah. But you look rosier and... Well, better than you did that, that I am better. Thank you, said Sarah. And I am much more than happy. And I have come to ask you to do something for me. Or me, Ms. exclaimed the bun woman smiling cheerfully. Why, bless you. Yes, Ms. What can I do? And then Sarah, leaning on the counter, made her little proposal concerning the dreadful days and the hungry waves and the buns. The woman watched her and listened with an astonished face. Why, bless me, she said again when she had heard it all. It will be a pleasure to me to do it. I'm a working woman myself and cannot afford much on my own account. And there's sites that are troubled on every side. But if you excuse me, I'm bound to say I've given away many a bit of bread since that were afternoon, just a longer thinking of you. And our wet and cold you was and how hungry you looked. And yet you gave away your rock buns as if you as a princess. The Indian gentleman smiled involuntarily at this and Sarah smiled a little too, remembering what she had said to herself when she put the buns down on the ravenous chowns ragged lap. She looked so hungry, she said. She was even hungry, than I was. She was starving, said the woman. Many a time she's told me of it since. As she sat there in the wet, felt as if the wolf was tearing at her poor young insides. Oh, have you seen her since then? Exclaimed Sarah. Do you know where she is? Yes, I do. Unsured the woman smiling more good-naturedly than ever. While she's in that back room, Nermis, and has been for a month and a decent, well-meaning girl she's going to turn out, often such an out to mean a shopper in the kitchen as you'd scarce believe, how in as she's lived? She stepped to the door of the little back parlour and spoke. And the next minute, a girl came out and followed her behind the counter. And it actually was the beggar child, clean and neatly closed and looking as if she had not been hungry for a long time. She looked shy, but she had a nice face now that she was no longer a savage and the wild look had gone from her eyes. She knew Sarah in an instant and stood and looked at her as if she could never look enough. You see? Said the woman, I told her to come when she was hungry and when she'd come I'd give her old jobs to do and I've found she was willing. And somehow I got to like her. And the end of it was, I've given her a place in an home and she helps me and behaves well and is as thankful as a girl can be. Her name's Anne. She has no other. The children stood and looked at each other for a few minutes and then Sarah took her hand out of her mouth and held it out across the counter and Anne took it and they looked straight into each other's eyes. I'm so glad Sarah said and I've just thought of something. Perhaps Mrs. Brown will let you be the one to give the buns and bread to the children. Perhaps you would like to do it because you know what it is to be hungry too. Yes, Mrs. said the girl. And somehow Sarah felt as if she understood her, though she said so little and only stood still and looked and looked after her as she went out of the shop with the Indian gentlemen and they got into the carriage and drove away.力