“Well,” said Miss Minchin nervously. “Someone is very kind to you.” She thought a moment. Then she said, “Go put your new clothes on. Then come downstairs. You may have lessons in the schoolroom today. No more errands.”
Sara was surprised. When had Miss Minchin spoken so kindly to her? Not since her father died.
A half hour later Sara walked into the schoolroom. She was wearing new clothes.
“Look at Princess Sara!” cried Jessie.
The young ladies stared. For it was Princess Sara. She looked as she had once looked. Before she was a servant.
“Perhaps someone left her a fortune,” said Jessie.
“Oh, stop it,” said Lavinia crossly. “Quit looking at her.”
But none of the girls could.
Sara and Becky stayed up late that night. They were warm by the fire. Their stomachs were full. It was hard to say good night.
Then they heard a sound on the roof.
Sara ran to the window. “It’s the monkey! Come here,” she called. “It’s too cold for you out there.” The monkey chattered as he jumped into her arms.
Becky laughed. “He’s plain-looking, ain’t he, miss? What will you do with him?”
“It’s too late to take him home,” said Sara. “He can sleep here tonight. I will take him home tomorrow.”
The monkey curled up on Sara’s bed. He slept like a baby at Sara’s feet.
19
“It Is the Child!”
The next morning Ram Dass opened the front door. It was Mr. Carmichael. Ram Dass showed him into the sitting room.
“What news?” said Mr. Carrisford. “Did you find her?”
His friend shook his head.
Mr. Carrisford moaned and dropped into his chair.
“Don’t worry,” said Carmichael. “We shall find her.”
The doorbell rang again. Ram Dass went to answer it. It was Sara Crewe. And she had the monkey with her.
Ram Dass led her to the sitting room. “Sir,” he said. “It is the little girl from next door.”
“Your monkey ran away again,” Sara said. “It was late, and I know you are ill. So I let him stay with me.”
“Thank you,” said Mr. Carrisford. “That was kind.”
Sara handed the monkey to Ram Dass. She spoke to him in his own language.
Mr. Carrisford stared. “How do you know his language?”
“Oh, I was born in India,” said Sara.
Mr. Carrisford sat up suddenly. “You were born in India!” He held out his hand. “Come here.”
Sara was startled. But she went and stood beside him.
“You live next door?” he asked. “Yes,” she said. “At Miss Minchin’s school.”
“But you are not a student.”
“No.” Sara frowned. “I don’t know exactly what I am.”
“Why not?”
“I was a student at first,” said Sara. “But now I run errands for Miss Minchin. And I sleep in the attic.”
“What do you mean, ‘at first’?” Mr. Carrisford asked.
“At first,” said Sara. “When my papa took me there.”
“Where is your papa now?”
“He died,” said Sara. “He lost all his money. There was no one to take care of me. There was no one to pay Miss Minchin. So now I work for her.”
Mr. Carrisford choked out the words: “How did your father lose his money?”
“He did not lose it himself,” said Sara. “He had a friend. A friend he loved. But the friend took his money and lost it. Papa trusted his friend too much.”
“Perhaps it was an accident,” Mr. Carrisford whispered. “Perhaps the friend meant no harm.”
Sara thought this over. At last she said, “Perhaps. But the pain was still just as bad for Papa. It killed him.”
“Tell me …” Mr. Carrisford said. His voice trembled. “What was your father’s name?”
“Captain Ralph Crewe,” answered Sara. “He died in India.”
Mr. Carrisford gasped. “It is the child!” He fell back in his chair. Ram Dass ran to his side.
Sara was frightened. Mr. Carrisford looked so sick. Ram Dass quickly opened a small bottle. He poured drops into a cup and held it to his master’s lips.
Mr. Carrisford drank the medicine. He took several deep breaths. He stared at Sara as if she might disappear.
Sara waited till Mr. Carrisford seemed better. Then she asked softly, “What child am I?”
Mr. Carmichael took Sara’s hand.
“Mr. Carrisford was your father’s friend,” he said gently. “The one with the diamond mines. We’ve been looking for you for two years.”
Sara’s green eyes grew wide. At first she could not speak. Then she whispered, “And I was just next door.”
Sara sat down. Mr. Carmichael explained everything. At first Mr. Carrisford thought his mines had failed. He thought he had lost all his money. And all of Captain Crewe’s money as well. His grief made him ill. He almost died of brain fever.
But then diamonds were found in the mines. Mr. Carrisford wanted to tell Captain Crewe he was rich. But he was too late. Captain Crewe died before he could tell him.
Mr. Carrisford had been searching for Sara ever since.
Ram Dass smiled. “I told Mr. Carrisford about meeting you,” he said. “We often saw you pass by our window. We did not know who you were, of course. But he wanted to do something for you—for Sara Crewe’s sake. So I slipped into your attic room. I tried to make things nicer for you.”
“You brought the Magic?” she cried.
Ram Dass bowed.
She turned to Mr. Carrisford. “And you sent me all those wonderful things? You were the friend who made the dream come true?”
“Yes, dear child, I did,” he said.
He looked so sick. Sara could tell his heart was sick, as well. But there was a kindness in his eyes. It was a look that made her remember her father.
Sara took his hand and kissed it. Mr. Carrisford’s face lit up with joy.
The doorbell rang again. Miss Minchin pushed past Ram Dass. She glared at Sara. “So there you are!” she hissed.
She smiled at Mr. Carrisford. A cold, fishy smile. “I do beg your pardon,” she said. “This girl is a charity case. I had no idea she was here.” She grabbed Sara’s arm. “Sara! Go home at once!”
Mr. Carrisford stood up slowly. “She is not going with you. Ever,” he said. “Her home is with me now.”
Miss Minchin gasped. “But—what does this mean?” she sputtered.
“We have been searching for Sara Crewe,” said Mr. Carmichael. Then he explained who Mr. Carrisford was.
“Sara is no longer poor,” he added. “She has her fortune back. And of course, the diamond mines.”
“D-diamond mines!” stammered Miss Minchin.
“Your ‘charity case’ is rich,” said Mr. Carrisford. “Richer than any princess.”
Oh, no! Miss Minchin did not know what to do. She could not lose Sara. Not now that she had all her money!
“She must come home with me,” Miss Minchin said. “Captain Crewe left her in my care. She would have starved in the streets if not for me. But I kept her, out of the goodness of my heart.
“Sara dear,” she said sweetly. “I have not spoiled you, perhaps. But you know that I have always been fond of you.”
Sara’s green eyes flashed. “Really, Miss Minchin? I did not know that.”
Miss Minchin’s face turned red. “Sara!” she said. “You must do your duty to your papa. Come home with me at once!”
“No,” said Sara. “And you know why.”
Miss Minchin turned to Mr. Carrisford. “You’ll be sorry,” she said. “She is not an easy child. She is neither truthful nor grateful.”
Ram Dass showed Miss Minchin the door.
The schoolroom was buzzing. Miss Minchin’s young ladies knew something was going on.
Ermengarde dashed in. “I have a letter from Sara!” she cried.
“Where is she
?” asked Jessie.
“Next door,” said Ermengarde. She explained everything. “And guess what? Her diamond mines are real. She is rich. And she is never coming back. I’m going to see her tomorrow.”
Becky heard everything. She was so happy for Miss Sara. But she knew the Magic would soon be gone.
She crept upstairs and peeked in Sara’s old room. She just had to have one more look!
A fire was burning. Supper was on the table! Just like all those other nights.
Ram Dass stepped from the shadows. He smiled at Becky’s startled face.
“I have a letter for you,” he said. “Miss Sara wants you to come see her tomorrow.”
His eyes sparkled as if he knew a secret.
20
Sara’s Idea
After that everything was different. Sara brought joy to the house next door. Mr. Carrisford got well. Ermengarde and Lottie came to visit often.
The Large Family children came too. Sara was like a child from a story. Only better! They always asked her to tell about the cold, dark attic. About the dream that came true.
Sara was grateful she was no longer cold or hungry. Now she knew what it meant to be rich. Because she knew what it meant to be poor. And Sara would never forget.
One day she had an idea. She told Mr. Carrisford about the hungry child. The one outside the bakery.
“I know there are many hungry children,” said Sara. “I want to do something to help them.”
Sara told him her idea. Mr. Carrisford smiled. “Wonderful!” he said. “We shall do it first thing tomorrow.”
Early the next morning Miss Minchin sat at her desk. She was going over her bills. She was in a bad mood.
She looked out the window. She saw Sara run down the steps next door. Becky ran after her. She was Sara’s very own maid now. Both girls looked happy and well fed.
Miss Minchin scowled.
“It serves us right!” said Miss Amelia. “We should have been nicer to her. We should have fed her more.”
Miss Minchin whirled around. “Amelia!”
“It’s true!” said Miss Amelia. “She saw through us both. She saw that you were mean and hard-hearted. And she saw that I was a weak fool.”
Miss Minchin had never seen her sister like this. She stood up and yanked the curtains closed!
Mr. Carrisford’s carriage stopped at Mrs. Brown’s Bakery. He and Sara went inside.
“Good morning!” Mrs. Brown said cheerfully. Then her eyes grew wide. “I remember you, miss! And yet …”
“You once gave me six buns for fourpence,” said Sara.
“Of course!” Mrs. Brown exclaimed. “And you gave five away to a beggar girl! Oh, I could never forget you.”
Then she looked Sara up and down. “Excuse me, miss. But you look … well, better than you did that day.”
“I am better,” said Sara simply. “I am much happier, too. And I’ve come to ask you to do something for me.”
Then she explained her idea. “When you see hungry children, call them in. Give them food. And send the bills to me.”
“Why, bless you,” said Mrs. Brown. “It will be a pleasure. I cannot afford to do much myself. But I’ve given away many a bun since that day you came. Just thinking of how wet and cold you were. And yet you gave your food away, as if you were a princess.”
“I had to share,” said Sara. “The child was even hungrier than I was.”
“Ah, yes,” said Mrs. Brown. “She has told me about it often.”
“Have you seen her?” cried Sara. “Where is she? What happened to her?”
The woman turned toward the back room. “Anne,” she called. “Come here, darling.”
A smiling child ran into the shop. Sara gasped in delight. It was the hungry little girl! But now she was clean and neat. The wild look was gone from her eyes.
The girl knew Sara at once. She smiled shyly. “Hello, miss.”
“I started out giving her odd jobs,” Mrs. Brown explained. “She was such a hard little worker! I grew quite fond of her. And so I took her in. She helps me now in the shop, you see. And she is a real joy!”
“Mrs. Brown,” Sara said. “Perhaps Anne can give out bread to the children.
Since she knows what it is like to be hungry.”
“I’d like that, miss!” said Anne.
Then it was time to go. Sara gave Mrs. Brown her address. Mrs. Brown and Anne waved goodbye.
Sara stepped lightly into the carriage. Her face glowed as she told Becky about Anne.
Mr. Carrisford smiled. He knew this was only the beginning of the things Sara Crewe would do. How proud Sara’s father would have been.
For never had Sara looked more like a Little Princess than she did right now.
Frances Hodgson Burnett was born in England in 1849. Her family moved to Tennessee in 1865. She began writing stories to help support the family when she was just a teenager. The publication of Little Lord Fauntleroy in 1886 brought her fame and fortune. Two years later, Sara Crewe was published. It became a bestseller. The author expanded the story. It was published as A Little Princess in 1905. The Secret Garden (1909) firmly established Ms. Burnett’s place in children’s literature. She died in Plandome, New York, in 1924.
Cathy East Dubowski always dreamed of having her own magical room in the attic—just like Sara Crewe’s. But, alas, she has always lived in apartments or houses whose attics were much too small. Luckily, she can visit Sara’s attic room in A Little Princess whenever she wants. Ms. Dubowski also has adapted Black Beauty and Peter Pan in the Stepping Stones series. She lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, with her husband, Mark, an illustrator, and their two daughters.
If you like this story, try reading these other Stepping Stone Classics
Mary put her hand in her pocket, drew out the key, and found that it fitted the keyhole. She turned the key.
And then she took a deep breath and looked behind her up the long walk to see if anyone was coming. No one was. She held back the swinging curtain of ivy and pushed the door, which opened slowly … slowly.
Then she slipped through it, shut it behind her, and stood with her back against it, looking about her and breathing quite fast with excitement and wonder and delight.
She was standing inside the secret garden.
Little Women
by Louisa May Alcott
adapted by Monica Kulling
“Jo! Jo! Where are you?” cried Meg. She was calling up into the attic.
“I’m here!” Jo called down.
Meg climbed the narrow stairs. The attic was Jo’s favorite spot in the house. Here she could eat apples and read in peace. A pet rat, Scrabble, lived nearby. Scrabble didn’t mind Jo’s company a bit. Today Jo was wrapped in a quilt.
“I have news!” exclaimed Meg. “Both of us are invited to Mrs. Gardiner’s New Year’s Eve party. It’s tomorrow night! What should we wear?”
A Little Princess Page 5