ewe thought so, too--and he died;
and Mr. Carrisford had brain fever and ran away, and HE almost died.
And he did not know where Sara was. And it turned out that there were
millions and millions of diamonds in the mines; and half of them belong
to Sara; and they belonged to her when she was living in the attic with
no one but Melchisedec for a friend, and the cook ordering her about.
And Mr. Carrisford found her this afternoon, and he has got her in his
home--and she will never come back--and she will be more a princess
than she ever was--a hundred and fifty thousand times more. And I am
going to see her tomorrow afternoon. There!"

Even Miss Minchin herself could scarcely have controlled the uproar
after this; and though she heard the noise, she did not try. She was
not in the mood to face anything more than she was facing in her room,
while Miss Amelia was weeping in bed. She knew that the news had
penetrated the walls in some mysterious manner, and that every servant
and every child would go to bed talking about it.

So until almost midnight the entire seminary, realizing somehow that
all rules were laid aside, crowded round Ermengarde in the schoolroom
and heard read and re-read the letter containing a story which was
quite as wonderful as any Sara herself had ever invented, and which had
the amazing charm of having happened to Sara herself and the mystic
Indian gentleman in the very next house.

Becky, who had heard it also, managed to creep up stairs earlier than
usual. She wanted to get away from people and go and look at the
little magic room once more. She did not know what would happen to it.
It was not likely that it would be left to Miss Minchin. It would be
taken away, and the attic would be bare and empty again. Glad as she
was for Sara's sake, she went up the last flight of stairs with a lump
in her throat and tears blurring her sight. There would be no fire
tonight, and no rosy lamp; no supper, and no princess sitting in the
glow reading or telling stories--no princess!

She choked down a sob as she pushed the attic door open, and then she
broke into a low cry.

The lamp was flushing the room, the fire was blazing, the supper was
waiting; and Ram Dass was standing smiling into her startled face.

"Missee sahib remembered," he said. "She told the sahib all. She
wished you to know the good fortune which has befallen her. Behold a
letter on the tray. She has written. She did not wish that y