16. The Visitor

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

　　Imagine, if you can, what the rest of the evening was like. Howthey crouched by the fire which blazed and leaped and made somuch of itself in the little grate. How they removed the coversof the dishes, and found rich, hot, savory soup, which was a mealin itself, and sandwiches and toast and muffins enough for bothof them. The mug from the washstand was used as Becky's tea cup,and the tea was so delicious that it was not necessary to pretendthat it was anything but tea. They were warm and full-fed andhappy, and it was just like Sara that, having found her strangegood fortune real, she should give herself up to the enjoyment ofit to the utmost. She had lived such a life of imaginings thatshe was quite equal to accepting any wonderful thing thathappened, and almost to cease, in a short time, to find itbewildering."I don't know anyone in the world who could have done it," shesaid; "but there has been someone. And here we are sitting bytheir fire--and--and--it's true! And whoever it is--whereverthey are--I have a friend, Becky--someone is my friend."It cannot be denied that as they sat before the blazing fire,and ate the nourishing, comfortable food, they felt a kind ofrapturous awe, and looked into each other's eyes with somethinglike doubt."Do you think," Becky faltered once, in a whisper, "do you thinkit could melt away, miss? Hadn't we better be quick?" And shehastily crammed her sandwich into her mouth. If it was only adream, kitchen manners would be overlooked."No, it won't melt away," said Sara. "I am eating this muffin,and I can taste it. You never really eat things in dreams. Youonly think you are going to eat them. Besides, I keep givingmyself pinches; and I touched a hot piece of coal just now, onpurpose."The sleepy comfort which at length almost overpowered them was aheavenly thing. It was the drowsiness of happy, well-fedchildhood, and they sat in the fire glow and luxuriated in ituntil Sara found herself turning to look at her transformed bed.There were even blankets enough to share with Becky. The narrowcouch in the next attic was more comfortable that night than itsoccupant had ever dreamed that it could be.As she went out of the room, Becky turned upon the threshold andlooked about her with devouring eyes."If it ain't here in the mornin', miss," she said, "it's beenhere tonight, anyways, an' I shan't never forget it." She lookedat each particular thing, as if to commit it to memory. "Thefire was there", pointing with her finger, "an' the table wasbefore it; an' the lamp was there, an' the light looked rosy red;an' there was a satin cover on your bed, an' a warm rug on thefloor, an' everythin' looked beautiful; an'"--she paused asecond, and laid her hand on her stomach tenderly--"there wassoup an' sandwiches an' muffins--there was." And, with thisconviction a reality at least, she went away.Through the mysterious agency which works in schools and amongservants, it was quite well known in the morning that Sara Crewewas in horrible disgrace, that Ermengarde was under punishment,and that Becky would have been packed out of the house beforebreakfast, but that a scullery maid could not be dispensed withat once. The servants knew that she was allowed to stay becauseMiss Minchin could not easily find another creature helpless andhumble enough to work like a bounden slave for so few shillings aweek. The elder girls in the schoolroom knew that if MissMinchin did not send Sara away it was for practical reasons ofher own."She's growing so fast and learning such a lot, somehow," saidJessie to Lavinia, "that she will be given classes soon, and MissMinchin knows she will have to work for nothing. It was rathernasty of you, Lavvy, to tell about her having fun in the garret.How did you find it out?""I got it out of Lottie. She's such a baby she didn't know shewas telling me. There was nothing nasty at all in speaking toMiss Minchin. I felt it my duty"--priggishly. "She was beingdeceitful. And it's ridiculous that she should look so grand,and be made so much of, in her rags and tatters!""What were they doing when Miss Minchin caught them?""Pretending some silly thing. Ermengarde had taken up herhamper to share with Sara and Becky. She never invites us toshare things. Not that I care, but it's rather vulgar of her toshare with servant girls in attics. I wonder Miss Minchin didn'tturn Sara out--even if she does want her for a teacher.""If she was turned out where would she go?" inquired Jessie, atrifle anxiously."How do I know?" snapped Lavinia. "She'll look rather queer whenshe comes into the schoolroom this morning, I should think--after what's happened. She had no dinner yesterday, and she'snot to have any today."Jessie was not as ill-natured as she was silly. She picked upher book with a little jerk."Well, I think it's horrid," she said. "They've no right tostarve her to death."When Sara went into the kitchen that morning the cook lookedaskance at her, and so did the housemaids; but she passed themhurriedly. She had, in fact, overslept herself a little, and asBecky had done the same, neither had had time to see the other,and each had come downstairs in haste.Sara went into the scullery. Becky was violently scrubbing akettle, and was actually gurgling a little song in her throat.She looked up with a wildly elated face."It was there when I wakened, miss--the blanket," she whisperedexcitedly. "It was as real as it was last night.""So was mine," said Sara. "It is all there now--all of it.While I was dressing I ate some of the cold things we left.""Oh, laws! Oh, laws!" Becky uttered the exclamation in a sortof rapturous groan, and ducked her head over her kettle just intime, as the cook came in from the kitchen.Miss Minchin had expected to see in Sara, when she appeared inthe schoolroom, very much what Lavinia had expected to see. Sarahad always been an annoying puzzle to her, because severity nevermade her cry or look frightened. When she was scolded she stoodstill and listened politely with a grave face; when she waspunished she performed her extra tasks or went without hermeals, making no complaint or outward sign of rebellion. Thevery fact that she never made an impudent answer seemed to MissMinchin a kind of impudence in itself. But after yesterday'sdeprivation of meals, the violent scene of last night, theprospect of hunger today, she must surely have broken down. Itwould be strange indeed if she did not come downstairs with palecheeks and red eyes and an unhappy, humbled face.Miss Minchin saw her for the first time when she entered theschoolroom to hear the little French class recite its lessons andsuperintend its exercises. And she came in with a springingstep, color in her cheeks, and a smile hovering about the cornersof her mouth. It was the most astonishing thing Miss Minchin hadever known. It gave her quite a shock. What was the child madeof? What could such a thing mean? She called her at once to herdesk."You do not look as if you realize that you are in disgrace," shesaid. "Are you absolutely hardened?"The truth is that when one is still a child--or even if one isgrown up--and has been well fed, and has slept long and softlyand warm; when one has gone to sleep in the midst of a fairystory, and has wakened to find it real, one cannot be unhappy oreven look as if one were; and one could not, if one tried, keep aglow of joy out of one's eyes. Miss Minchin was almost struckdumb by the look of Sara's eyes when she made her perfectlyrespectful answer."I beg your pardon, Miss Minchin," she said; "I know that I am indisgrace.""Be good enough not to forget it and look as if you had comeinto a fortune. It is an impertinence. And remember you are tohave no food today.""Yes, Miss Minchin," Sara answered; but as she turned away herheart leaped with the memory of what yesterday had been. "If theMagic had not saved me just in time," she thought, "how horribleit would have been!""She can't be very hungry," whispered Lavinia. "Just look ather. Perhaps she is pretending she has had a good breakfast"--with a spiteful laugh."She's different from other people," said Jessie, watching Sarawith her class. "Sometimes I'm a bit frightened of her.""Ridiculous thing!" ejaculated Lavinia.All through the day the light was in Sara's face, and the colorin her cheek. The servants cast puzzled glances at her, andwhispered to each other, and Miss Amelia's small blue eyes worean expression of bewilderment. What such an audacious look ofwell-being, under august displeasure could mean she could notunderstand. It was, however, just like Sara's singular obstinateway. She was probably determined to brave the matter out.One thing Sara had resolved upon, as she thought things over.The wonders which had happened must be kept a secret, if such athing were possible. If Miss Minchin should choose to mount tothe attic again, of course all would be discovered. But it didnot seem likely that she would do so for some time at least,unless she was led by suspicion. Ermengarde and Lottie would bewatched with such strictness that they would not dare to stealout of their beds again. Ermengarde could be told the story andtrusted to keep it secret. If Lottie made any discoveries, shecould be bound to secrecy also. Perhaps the Magic itself wouldhelp to hide its own marvels."But whatever happens," Sara kept saying to herself all day--"whatever happens, somewhere in the world there is a heavenlykind person who is my friend--my friend. If I never know who itis--if I never can even thank him--I shall never feel quite solonely. Oh, the Magic was good to me!"If it was possible for weather to be worse than it had been theday before, it was worse this day--wetter, muddier, colder.There were more errands to be done, the cook was more irritable,and, knowing that Sara was in disgrace, she was more savage. Butwhat does anything matter when one's Magic has just proveditself one's friend. Sara's supper of the night before had givenher strength, she knew that she should sleep well and warmly,and, even though she had naturally begun to be hungry againbefore evening, she felt that she could bear it until breakfast-time on the following day, when her meals would surely be givento her again. It was quite late when she was at last allowed togo upstairs. She had been told to go into the schoolroom andstudy until ten o'clock, and she had become interested in herwork, and remained over her books later.When she reached the top flight of stairs and stood before theattic door, it must be confessed that her heart beat ratherfast."Of course it might all have been taken away," she whispered,trying to be brave. "It might only have been lent to me for justthat one awful night. But it was lent to me--I had it. It wasreal."She pushed the door open and went in. Once inside, she gaspedslightly, shut the door, and stood with her back against itlooking from side to side.The Magic had been there again. It actually had, and it haddone even more than before. The fire was blazing, in lovelyleaping flames, more merrily than ever. A number of new thingshad been brought into the attic which so altered the look of itthat if she had not been past doubting she would have rubbed hereyes. Upon the low table another supper stood--this time withcups and plates for Becky as well as herself; a piece of bright,heavy, strange embroidery covered the battered mantel, and on itsome ornaments had been placed. All the bare, ugly things whichcould be covered with draperies had been concealed and made tolook quite pretty. Some odd materials of rich colors had beenfastened against the wall with fine, sharp tacks--so sharp thatthey could be pressed into the wood and plaster withouthammering. Some brilliant fans were pinned up, and there wereseveral large cushions, big and substantial enough to use asseats. A wooden box was covered with a rug, and some cushionslay on it, so that it wore quite the air of a sofa.Sara slowly moved away from the door and simply sat down andlooked and looked again."It is exactly like something fairy come true," she said. "Thereisn't the least difference. I feel as if I might wish foranything--diamonds or bags of gold--and they would appear! Thatwouldn't be any stranger than this. Is this my garret? Am I thesame cold, ragged, damp Sara? And to think I used to pretend andpretend and wish there were fairies! The one thing I alwayswanted was to see a fairy story come true. I am living in afairy story. I feel as if I might be a fairy myself, and able toturn things into anything else."She rose and knocked upon the wall for the prisoner in the nextcell, and the prisoner came.When she entered she almost dropped in a heap upon the floor.For a few seconds she quite lost her breath."Oh, laws!" she gasped. "Oh, laws, miss!""You see," said Sara.On this night Becky sat on a cushion upon the hearth rug and hada cup and saucer of her own.When Sara went to bed she found that she had a new thickmattress and big downy pillows. Her old mattress and pillow hadbeen removed to Becky's bedstead, and, consequently, with theseadditions Becky had been supplied with unheard-of comfort."Where does it all come from?" Becky broke forth once. "Laws,who does it, miss?""Don't let us even ask," said Sara. "If it were not that I wantto say, `Oh, thank you,' I would rather not know. It makes itmore beautiful."From that time life became more wonderful day by day. The fairystory continued. Almost every day something new was done. Somenew comfort or ornament appeared each time Sara opened the doorat night, until in a short time the attic was a beautiful littleroom full of all sorts of odd and luxurious things. The uglywalls were gradually entirely covered with pictures anddraperies, ingenious pieces of folding furniture appeared, abookshelf was hung up and filled with books, new comforts andconveniences appeared one by one, until there seemed nothing leftto be desired. When Sara went downstairs in the morning, theremains of the supper were on the table; and when she returned tothe attic in the evening, the magician had removed them and leftanother nice little meal. Miss Minchin was as harsh andinsulting as ever, Miss Amelia as peevish, and the servants wereas vulgar and rude. Sara was sent on errands in all weathers,and scolded and driven hither and thither; she was scarcelyallowed to speak to Ermengarde and Lottie; Lavinia sneered at theincreasing shabbiness of her clothes; and the other girls staredcuriously at her when she appeared in the schoolroom. But whatdid it all matter while she was living in this wonderfulmysterious story? It was more romantic and delightful thananything she had ever invented to comfort her starved young souland save herself from despair. Sometimes, when she was scolded,she could scarcely keep from smiling."If you only knew!" she was saying to herself. "If you onlyknew!"The comfort and happiness she enjoyed were making her stronger,and she had them always to look forward to. If she came homefrom her errands wet and tired and hungry, she knew she wouldsoon be warm and well fed after she had climbed the stairs.During the hardest day she could occupy herself blissfully bythinking of what she should see when she opened the attic door,and wondering what new delight had been prepared for her. In avery short time she began to look less thin. Color came into hercheeks, and her eyes did not seem so much too big for her face."Sara Crewe looks wonderfully well," Miss Minchin remarkeddisapprovingly to her sister."Yes," answered poor, silly Miss Amelia. "She is absolutelyfattening. She was beginning to look like a little starvedcrow.""Starved!" exclaimed Miss Minchin, angrily. "There was noreason why she should look starved. She always had plenty toeat!""Of--of course," agreed Miss Amelia, humbly, alarmed to find thatshe had, as usual, said the wrong thing."There is something very disagreeable in seeing that sort ofthing in a child of her age," said Miss Minchin, with haughtyvagueness."What--sort of thing?" Miss Amelia ventured."It might almost be called defiance," answered Miss Minchin,feeling annoyed because she knew the thing she resented wasnothing like defiance, and she did not know what other unpleasantterm to use. "The spirit and will of any other child would havebeen entirely humbled and broken by--by the changes she has hadto submit to. But, upon my word, she seems as little subdued asif--as if she were a princess.""Do you remember," put in the unwise Miss Amelia, "what she saidto you that day in the schoolroom about what you would do if youfound out that she was--""No, I don't," said Miss Minchin. "Don't talk nonsense." Butshe remembered very clearly indeed.Very naturally, even Becky was beginning to look plumper and lessfrightened. She could not help it. She had her share in thesecret fairy story, too. She had two mattresses, two pillows,plenty of bed-covering, and every night a hot supper and a seaton the cushions by the fire. The Bastille had melted away, theprisoners no longer existed. Two comforted children sat in themidst of delights. Sometimes Sara read aloud from her books,sometimes she learned her own lessons, sometimes she sat andlooked into the fire and tried to imagine who her friend couldbe, and wished she could say to him some of the things in herheart.Then it came about that another wonderful thing happened. A mancame to the door and left several parcels. All were addressed inlarge letters, "To the Little Girl in the right-hand attic."Sara herself was sent to open the door and take them in. Shelaid the two largest parcels on the hall table, and was lookingat the address, when Miss Minchin came down the stairs and sawher."Take the things to the young lady to whom they belong," she saidseverely. "Don't stand there staring at them."They belong to me," answered Sara, quietly."To you?" exclaimed Miss Minchin. "What do you mean?""I don't know where they come from," said Sara, "but they areaddressed to me. I sleep in the right-hand attic. Becky has theother one."Miss Minchin came to her side and looked at the parcels with anexcited expression."What is in them?" she demanded."I don't know," replied Sara."Open them," she ordered.Sara did as she was told. When the packages were unfolded MissMinchin's countenance wore suddenly a singular expression. Whatshe saw was pretty and comfortable clothing--clothing ofdifferent kinds: shoes, stockings, and gloves, and a warm andbeautiful coat. There were even a nice hat and an umbrella.They were all good and expensive things, and on the pocket of thecoat was pinned a paper, on which were written these words: "Tobe worn every day. Will be replaced by others when necessary."Miss Minchin was quite agitated. This was an incident whichsuggested strange things to her sordid mind. Could it be thatshe had made a mistake, after all, and that the neglected childhad some powerful though eccentric friend in the background--perhaps some previously unknown relation, who had suddenly tracedher whereabouts, and chose to provide for her in this mysteriousand fantastic way? Relations were sometimes very odd--particularly rich old bachelor uncles, who did not care forhaving children near them. A man of that sort might prefer tooverlook his young relation's welfare at a distance. Such aperson, however, would be sure to be crotchety and hot-temperedenough to be easily offended. It would not be very pleasant ifthere were such a one, and he should learn all the truth aboutthe thin, shabby clothes, the scant food, and the hard work. Shefelt very queer indeed, and very uncertain, and she gave a sideglance at Sara."Well," she said, in a voice such as she had never used since thelittle girl lost her father, "someone is very kind to you. Asthe things have been sent, and you are to have new ones whenthey are worn out, you may as well go and put them on and lookrespectable. After you are dressed you may come downstairs andlearn your lessons in the schoolroom. You need not go out on anymore errands today."About half an hour afterward, when the schoolroom door opened andSara walked in, the entire seminary was struck dumb."My word!" ejaculated Jessie, jogging Lavinia's elbow. "Look atthe Princess Sara!"Everybody was looking, and when Lavinia looked she turned quitered.It was the Princess Sara indeed. At least, since the days whenshe had been a princess, Sara had never looked as she did now.She did not seem the Sara they had seen come down the backstairs a few hours ago. She was dressed in the kind of frockLavinia had been used to envying her the possession of. It wasdeep and warm in color, and beautifully made. Her slender feetlooked as they had done when Jessie had admired them, and thehair, whose heavy locks had made her look rather like a Shetlandpony when it fell loose about her small, odd face, was tied backwith a ribbon."Perhaps someone has left her a fortune," Jessie whispered. "Ialways thought something would happen to her. She's so queer.""Perhaps the diamond mines have suddenly appeared again," saidLavinia, scathingly. "Don't please her by staring at her in thatway, you silly thing.""Sara," broke in Miss Minchin's deep voice, "come and sit here."And while the whole schoolroom stared and pushed with elbows, andscarcely made any effort to conceal its excited curiosity, Sarawent to her old seat of honor, and bent her head over her books.That night, when she went to her room, after she and Becky hadeaten their supper she sat and looked at the fire seriously for along time."Are you making something up in your head, miss?" Beckyinquired with respectful softness. When Sara sat in silence andlooked into the coals with dreaming eyes it generally meant thatshe was making a new story. But this time she was not, and sheshook her head."No," she answered. "I am wondering what I ought to do."Becky stared--still respectfully. She was filled with somethingapproaching reverence for everything Sara did and said."I can't help thinking about my friend," Sara explained. "If hewants to keep himself a secret, it would be rude to try and findout who he is. But I do so want him to know how thankful I am tohim--and how happy he has made me. Anyone who is kind wants toknow when people have been made happy. They care for that morethan for being thanked. I wish--I do wish--"She stopped short because her eyes at that instant fell uponsomething standing on a table in a corner. It was something shehad found in the room when she came up to it only two daysbefore. It was a little writing-case fitted with paper andenvelopes and pens and ink."Oh," she exclaimed, "why did I not think of that before?"She rose and went to the corner and brought the case back to thefire."I can write to him," she said joyfully, "and leave it on thetable. Then perhaps the person who takes the things away willtake it, too. I won't ask him anything. He won't mind mythanking him, I feel sure."So she wrote a note. This is what she said:I hope you will not think it is impolite that I should writethis note to you when you wish to keep yourself a secret. Pleasebelieve I do not mean to be impolite or try to find out anythingat all; only I want to thank you for being so kind to me--soheavenly kind--and making everything like a fairy story. I amso grateful to you, and I am so happy--and so is Becky. Beckyfeels just as thankful as I do--it is all just as beautiful andwonderful to her as it is to me. We used to be so lonely andcold and hungry, and now--oh, just think what you have done forus! Please let me say just these words. It seems as if I oughtto say them. Thank you--thank you--thank you!The Little Girl in the Attic.The next morning she left this on the little table, and in theevening it had been taken away with the other things; so sheknew the Magician had received it, and she was happier for thethought. She was reading one of her new books to Becky justbefore they went to their respective beds, when her attention wasattracted by a sound at the skylight. When she looked up fromher page she saw that Becky had heard the sound also, as she hadturned her head to look and was listening rather nervously."Something's there, miss," she whispered."Yes," said Sara, slowly. "It sounds--rather like a cat--tryingto get in."She left her chair and went to the skylight. It was a queerlittle sound she heard--like a soft scratching. She suddenlyremembered something and laughed. She remembered a quaint littleintruder who had made his way into the attic once before. Shehad seen him that very afternoon, sitting disconsolately on atable before a window in the Indian gentleman's house."Suppose," she whispered in pleased excitement--"just suppose itwas the monkey who got away again. Oh, I wish it was!"She climbed on a chair, very cautiously raised the skylight, andpeeped out. It had been snowing all day, and on the snow, quitenear her, crouched a tiny, shivering figure, whose small blackface wrinkled itself piteously at sight of her."It is the monkey," she cried out. "He has crept out of theLascar's attic, and he saw the light."Becky ran to her side."Are you going to let him in, miss?" she said."Yes," Sara answered joyfully. "It's too cold for monkeys to beout. They're delicate. I'll coax him in."She put a hand out delicately, speaking in a coaxing voice--asshe spoke to the sparrows and to Melchisedec--as if she were somefriendly little animal herself."Come along, monkey darling," she said. "I won't hurt you."He knew she would not hurt him. He knew it before she laid hersoft, caressing little paw on him and drew him towards her. Hehad felt human love in the slim brown hands of Ram Dass, and hefelt it in hers. He let her lift him through the skylight, andwhen he found himself in her arms he cuddled up to her breast andlooked up into her face."Nice monkey! Nice monkey!" she crooned, kissing his funnyhead. "Oh, I do love little animal things."He was evidently glad to get to the fire, and when she sat downand held him on her knee he looked from her to Becky withmingled interest and appreciation."He is plain-looking, miss, ain't he?" said Becky."He looks like a very ugly baby," laughed Sara. "I beg yourpardon, monkey; but I'm glad you are not a baby. Your mothercouldn't be proud of you, and no one would dare to say you lookedlike any of your relations. Oh, I do like you!"She leaned back in her chair and reflected."Perhaps he's sorry he's so ugly," she said, "and it's always onhis mind. I wonder if he has a mind. Monkey, my love, have youa mind?"But the monkey only put up a tiny paw and scratched his head."What shall you do with him?" Becky asked."I shall let him sleep with me tonight, and then take him backto the Indian gentleman tomorrow. I am sorry to take you back,monkey; but you must go. You ought to be fondest of your ownfamily; and I'm not a real relation."And when she went to bed she made him a nest at her feet, and hecurled up and slept there as if he were a baby and much pleasedwith his quarters.