Sara, in a low tone; and there was a sound as
if she had gulped down something which rose in her throat. "I
understand."

"That doll," cried Miss Minchin, pointing to the splendid birthday gift
seated near--"that ridiculous doll, with all her nonsensical,
extravagant things--I actually paid the bill for her!"

Sara turned her head toward the chair.

"The Last Doll," she said. "The Last Doll." And her little mournful
voice had an odd sound.

"The Last Doll, indeed!" said Miss Minchin. "And she is mine, not
yours. Everything you own is mine."

"Please take it away from me, then," said Sara. "I do not want it."

If she had cried and sobbed and seemed frightened, Miss Minchin might
almost have had more patience with her. She was a woman who liked to
domineer and feel her power, and as she looked at Sara's pale little
steadfast face and heard her proud little voice, she quite felt as if
her might was being set at naught.

"Don't put on grand airs," she said. "The time for that sort of thing
is past. You are not a princess any longer. Your carriage and your
pony will be sent away--your maid will be dismissed. You will wear your
oldest and plainest clothes--your extravagant ones are no longer suited
to your station. You are like Becky--you must work for your living."

To her surprise, a faint gleam of light came into the child's eyes--a
shade of relief.

"Can I work?" she said. "If I can work it will not matter so much.
What can I do?"

"You can do anything you are told," was the answer. "You are a sharp
child, and pick up things readily. If you make yourself useful I may
let you stay here. You speak French well, and you can help with the
younger children."

"May I?" exclaimed Sara. "Oh, please let me! I know I can teach them.
I like them, and they like me."

"Don't talk nonsense about people liking you," said Miss Minchin. "You
will have to do more than teach the little ones. You will run errands
and help in the kitchen as well as in the schoolroom. If you don't
please me, you will be sent away. Remember that. Now go."

Sara stood still just a moment, looking at her. In her young soul, she
was thinking deep and strange things. Then she turned to leave the
room.

"Stop!" said Miss Minchin. "Don't you intend to thank me?"

Sara paused, and all the deep, strange thoughts surged up in her breast.

"What for?" she said.

"For my kindness to you," replied Miss Minchin. "For my kindness in