Read Online A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Frances Hodgson Burnett
Tags: General, Juvenile Fiction
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yours upon a chair. Becky!" suddenly and severely.
Becky had quite forgotten herself in her excitement, and was
grinning at Lottie, who was wriggling with rapturous
expectation. She almost dropped her box, the disapproving voice
so startled her, and her frightened, bobbing curtsy of apology
was so funny that Lavinia and Jessie tittered.
"It is not your place to look at the young ladies," said Miss
Minchin. "You forget yourself. Put your box down."
Becky obeyed with alarmed haste and hastily backed toward the
door.
"You may leave us," Miss Minchin announced to the servants with a
wave of her hand.
Becky stepped aside respectfully to allow the superior servants
to pass out first. She could not help casting a longing glance
at the box on the table. Something made of blue satin was
peeping from between the folds of tissue paper.
"If you please, Miss Minchin," said Sara, suddenly, "mayn't
Becky stay?"
It was a bold thing to do. Miss Minchin was betrayed into
something like a slight jump. Then she put her eyeglass up, and
gazed at her show pupil disturbedly.
"Becky!" she exclaimed. "My dearest Sara!"
Sara advanced a step toward her.
"I want her because I know she will like to see the presents,"
she explained. "She is a little girl, too, you know."
Miss Minchin was scandalized. She glanced from one figure to
the other.
"My dear Sara," she said, "Becky is the scullery maid. Scullery
maids—er—are not little girls."
It really had not occurred to her to think of them in that
light. Scullery maids were machines who carried coal scuttles
and made fires.
"But Becky is," said Sara. "And I know she would enjoy herself.
Please let her stay—because it is my birthday."
Miss Minchin replied with much dignity:
"As you ask it as a birthday favor—she may stay. Rebecca,
thank Miss Sara for her great kindness."
Becky had been backing into the corner, twisting the hem of her
apron in delighted suspense. She came forward, bobbing
curtsies, but between Sara's eyes and her own there passed a
gleam of friendly understanding, while her words tumbled over
each other.
"Oh, if you please, miss! I'm that grateful, miss! I did want
to see the doll, miss, that I did. Thank you, miss. And thank
you, ma'am,"—turning and making an alarmed bob to Miss Minchin—
"for letting me take the liberty."
Miss Minchin waved her hand again—this time it was in the
direction of the corner near the door.
"Go and stand there," she commanded. "Not too near the young
ladies."
Becky went to her place, grinning. She did not care where she
was sent, so that she might have the luck of being inside the
room, instead of being downstairs in the scullery, while these
delights were going on. She did not even mind when Miss Minchin
cleared her throat ominously and spoke again.
"Now, young ladies, I have a few words to say to you," she
announced.
"She's going to make a speech," whispered one of the girls. "I
wish it was over."
Sara felt rather uncomfortable. As this was her party, it was
probable that the speech was about her. It is not agreeable to
stand in a schoolroom and have a speech made about you.
"You are aware, young ladies," the speech began—for it was a
speech—"that dear Sara is eleven years old today."
"DEAR Sara!" murmured Lavinia.
"Several of you here have also been eleven years old, but Sara's
birthdays are rather different from other little girls'
birthdays. When she is older she will be heiress to a large
fortune, which it will be her duty to spend in a meritorious
manner."
"The diamond mines," giggled Jessie, in a whisper.
Sara did not hear her; but as she stood with her green-gray eyes
fixed steadily on Miss Minchin, she felt herself growing rather
hot. When Miss Minchin talked about money, she felt somehow that
she always hated her—and, of course, it was disrespectful to
hate grown-up people.
"When her dear papa, Captain Crewe, brought her from India and
gave her into my care," the speech proceeded, "he said to me, in
a
Becky had quite forgotten herself in her excitement, and was
grinning at Lottie, who was wriggling with rapturous
expectation. She almost dropped her box, the disapproving voice
so startled her, and her frightened, bobbing curtsy of apology
was so funny that Lavinia and Jessie tittered.
"It is not your place to look at the young ladies," said Miss
Minchin. "You forget yourself. Put your box down."
Becky obeyed with alarmed haste and hastily backed toward the
door.
"You may leave us," Miss Minchin announced to the servants with a
wave of her hand.
Becky stepped aside respectfully to allow the superior servants
to pass out first. She could not help casting a longing glance
at the box on the table. Something made of blue satin was
peeping from between the folds of tissue paper.
"If you please, Miss Minchin," said Sara, suddenly, "mayn't
Becky stay?"
It was a bold thing to do. Miss Minchin was betrayed into
something like a slight jump. Then she put her eyeglass up, and
gazed at her show pupil disturbedly.
"Becky!" she exclaimed. "My dearest Sara!"
Sara advanced a step toward her.
"I want her because I know she will like to see the presents,"
she explained. "She is a little girl, too, you know."
Miss Minchin was scandalized. She glanced from one figure to
the other.
"My dear Sara," she said, "Becky is the scullery maid. Scullery
maids—er—are not little girls."
It really had not occurred to her to think of them in that
light. Scullery maids were machines who carried coal scuttles
and made fires.
"But Becky is," said Sara. "And I know she would enjoy herself.
Please let her stay—because it is my birthday."
Miss Minchin replied with much dignity:
"As you ask it as a birthday favor—she may stay. Rebecca,
thank Miss Sara for her great kindness."
Becky had been backing into the corner, twisting the hem of her
apron in delighted suspense. She came forward, bobbing
curtsies, but between Sara's eyes and her own there passed a
gleam of friendly understanding, while her words tumbled over
each other.
"Oh, if you please, miss! I'm that grateful, miss! I did want
to see the doll, miss, that I did. Thank you, miss. And thank
you, ma'am,"—turning and making an alarmed bob to Miss Minchin—
"for letting me take the liberty."
Miss Minchin waved her hand again—this time it was in the
direction of the corner near the door.
"Go and stand there," she commanded. "Not too near the young
ladies."
Becky went to her place, grinning. She did not care where she
was sent, so that she might have the luck of being inside the
room, instead of being downstairs in the scullery, while these
delights were going on. She did not even mind when Miss Minchin
cleared her throat ominously and spoke again.
"Now, young ladies, I have a few words to say to you," she
announced.
"She's going to make a speech," whispered one of the girls. "I
wish it was over."
Sara felt rather uncomfortable. As this was her party, it was
probable that the speech was about her. It is not agreeable to
stand in a schoolroom and have a speech made about you.
"You are aware, young ladies," the speech began—for it was a
speech—"that dear Sara is eleven years old today."
"DEAR Sara!" murmured Lavinia.
"Several of you here have also been eleven years old, but Sara's
birthdays are rather different from other little girls'
birthdays. When she is older she will be heiress to a large
fortune, which it will be her duty to spend in a meritorious
manner."
"The diamond mines," giggled Jessie, in a whisper.
Sara did not hear her; but as she stood with her green-gray eyes
fixed steadily on Miss Minchin, she felt herself growing rather
hot. When Miss Minchin talked about money, she felt somehow that
she always hated her—and, of course, it was disrespectful to
hate grown-up people.
"When her dear papa, Captain Crewe, brought her from India and
gave her into my care," the speech proceeded, "he said to me, in
a
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