uggested all sorts of possibilities to
her. Even proprietors of seminaries might make fortunes in stocks,
with the aid of owners of mines. And now, instead of looking forward to
gains, she was left to look back upon losses.

"The Princess Sara, indeed!" she said. "The child has been pampered as
if she were a QUEEN." She was sweeping angrily past the corner table as
she said it, and the next moment she started at the sound of a loud,
sobbing sniff which issued from under the cover.

"What is that!" she exclaimed angrily. The loud, sobbing sniff was
heard again, and she stooped and raised the hanging folds of the table
cover.

"How DARE you!" she cried out. "How dare you! Come out immediately!"

It was poor Becky who crawled out, and her cap was knocked on one side,
and her face was red with repressed crying.

"If you please, 'm--it's me, mum," she explained. "I know I hadn't
ought to. But I was lookin' at the doll, mum--an' I was frightened
when you come in--an' slipped under the table."

"You have been there all the time, listening," said Miss Minchin.

"No, mum," Becky protested, bobbing curtsies. "Not listenin'--I
thought I could slip out without your noticin', but I couldn't an' I
had to stay. But I didn't listen, mum--I wouldn't for nothin'. But I
couldn't help hearin'."

Suddenly it seemed almost as if she lost all fear of the awful lady
before her. She burst into fresh tears.

"Oh, please, 'm," she said; "I dare say you'll give me warnin, mum--but
I'm so sorry for poor Miss Sara--I'm so sorry!"

"Leave the room!" ordered Miss Minchin.

Becky curtsied again, the tears openly streaming down her cheeks.

"Yes, 'm; I will, 'm," she said, trembling; "but oh, I just wanted to
arst you: Miss Sara--she's been such a rich young lady, an' she's been
waited on, 'and and foot; an' what will she do now, mum, without no
maid? If--if, oh please, would you let me wait on her after I've done
my pots an' kettles? I'd do 'em that quick--if you'd let me wait on
her now she's poor. Oh," breaking out afresh, "poor little Miss Sara,
mum--that was called a princess."

Somehow, she made Miss Minchin feel more angry than ever. That the
very scullery maid should range herself on the side of this child--whom
she realized more fully than ever that she had never liked--was too
much. She actually stamped her foot.

"No--certainly not," she said. "She will wait on herself, and on other
people, too. Leave the ro