Stop this minute, you cry-baby! Stop this minute! Lavinia commanded.
Im not a cry-baby Im not! wailed Lottie. Sara, Sa ra!
If she doesnt stop, Miss Minchin will hear her, cried Jessie. Lottie darling, Ill give you a penny!
I dont want your penny, sobbed Lottie; and she looked down at the fat knee, and, seeing a drop of blood on it, burst forth again.
Sara flew across the room and, kneeling down, put her arms round her.
Now, Lottie, she said. Now, Lottie, you promised Sara.
She said I was a cry-baby, wept Lottie.
Sara patted her, but spoke in the steady voice Lottie knew.
But if you cry, you will be one, Lottie pet. You promised .
Lottie remembered that she had promised, but she preferred to lift up her voice.
I havent any mamma, she proclaimed. I havent a bit of mamma.
Yes, you have, said Sara, cheerfully. Have you forgotten? Dont you know that Sara is your mamma? Dont you want Sara for your mamma?
Lottie cuddled up to her with a consoled sniff.
Come and sit in the window-seat with me, Sara went on, and Ill whisper a story to you.
Will you? whimpered Lottie. Will you tell me about the diamond-mines?
The diamond-mines? broke out Lavinia. Nasty, little spoiled thing, I should like to slap her!
Sara got up quickly on her feet. It must be remembered that she had been very deeply absorbed in the book about the Bastille, and she had had to recall several things rapidly when she realized that she must go and take care of her adopted child. She was not an angel, and she was not fond of Lavinia.
Well, she said, with some fire, I should like to slap you , but I dont want to slap you! restraining herself. At least I both want to slap you
and I should like to slap you, but I wont slap you. We are not little gutter children. We are both old enough to know better.
Here was Lavinias opportunity.
Ah, yes, your royal highness, she said. We are princesses, I believe. At least one of us is. The school ought to be very fashionable now Miss Minchin has a princess for a pupil.
Sara started toward her. She looked as if she were going to box her ears. Perhaps she was. Her trick of pretending things was the joy of her life. She never spoke of it to girls she was not fond of. Her new pretend about being a princess was very near to her heart, and she was shy and sensitive about it. She had meant it to be rather a secret, and here was Lavinia deriding it before nearly all the school. She felt the blood rush up into her face and tingle in her ears. She only just saved herself. If you were a princess, you did not fly into rages. Her hand dropped, and she stood quite still a moment. When she spoke it was in a quiet, steady voice; she held her head up, and everybody listened to her.
Its true, she said. Sometimes I do pretend I am a princess. I pretend I am a princess, so that I can try and behave like one.
Lavinia could not think of exactly the right thing to say. Several times she had found that she could not think of a satisfactory reply when she was dealing with Sara. The reason of this was that, somehow, the rest always seemed to be vaguely in sympathy with her opponent. She saw now that they were pricking up their ears interestedly. The truth was, they liked princesses, and they all hoped they might hear something more definite about this one, and drew nearer Sara accordingly.
Lavinia could only invent one remark, and it fell rather flat.
Dear me! she said; I hope, when you ascend the throne, you wont forget us.
I wont, said Sara, and she did not utter another word, but stood quite still, and stared at her steadily as she saw her take Jessies arm and turn away.
After this, the girls who were jealous of her used to speak of her as Princess Sara whenever they wished to be particularly disdainful, and those who were fond of her gave her the name among themselves as a term of affection. No one called her princess instead of Sara, but her adorers were much pleased with the picturesqueness and grandeur of the title, and Miss Minchin, hearing of it, mentioned it more than once to visiting parents, feeling that it rather suggested a sort of royal boarding-school.
To Becky it seemed the most appropriate thing in the world. The acquaintance begun on the foggy afternoon when she had jumped up terrified from her sleep in the comfortable chair, had ripened and grown, though it must be confessed that Miss Minchin and Miss Amelia knew very little about it. They were aware that Sara was kind to the scullery-maid, but they knew nothing of certain delightful moments snatched perilously when, the up-stairs rooms being set in order with lightning rapidity, Saras sitting-room was reached, and the heavy coal-box set down with a sigh of joy. At such times stories were told by instalments, things of a satisfying nature were either produced and eaten or hastily tucked into pockets to be disposed of at night, when Becky went up-stairs to her attic to bed.
But I has to eat em careful, miss, she said once; cos if I leaves crumbs the rats come out to get em.