must be confessed that her heart beat rather fast.

"Of course it MIGHT all have been taken away," she whispered, trying to
be brave. "It might only have been lent to me for just that one awful
night. But it WAS lent to me--I had it. It was real."

She pushed the door open and went in. Once inside, she gasped
slightly, shut the door, and stood with her back against it looking
from side to side.

The Magic had been there again. It actually had, and it had done even
more than before. The fire was blazing, in lovely leaping flames, more
merrily than ever. A number of new things had been brought into the
attic which so altered the look of it that if she had not been past
doubting she would have rubbed her eyes. Upon the low table another
supper stood--this time with cups and plates for Becky as well as
herself; a piece of bright, heavy, strange embroidery covered the
battered mantel, and on it some ornaments had been placed. All the
bare, ugly things which could be covered with draperies had been
concealed and made to look quite pretty. Some odd materials of rich
colors had been fastened against the wall with fine, sharp tacks--so
sharp that they could be pressed into the wood and plaster without
hammering. Some brilliant fans were pinned up, and there were several
large cushions, big and substantial enough to use as seats. A wooden
box was covered with a rug, and some cushions lay on it, so that it
wore quite the air of a sofa.

Sara slowly moved away from the door and simply sat down and looked and
looked again.

"It is exactly like something fairy come true," she said. "There isn't
the least difference. I feel as if I might wish for anything--diamonds
or bags of gold--and they would appear! THAT wouldn't be any stranger
than this. Is this my garret? Am I the same cold, ragged, damp Sara?
And to think I used to pretend and pretend and wish there were fairies!
The one thing I always wanted was to see a fairy story come true. I am
LIVING in a fairy story. I feel as if I might be a fairy myself, and
able to turn things into anything else."

She rose and knocked upon the wall for the prisoner in the next cell,
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 had a cup
and saucer of her own.