Becky (A Little Princess)

01Chapter 5 of A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett.

02Read for LibriVox.org by Karen Savage in September, 2007.

03Chapter 5.

04Becky.

05Of course, the greatest power Sarah possessed, and the one which gained her even more followers than her luxuries in the fact that she was the show-pupil, the power that Lavinia and certain other girls were most envious of, and at the same time most fascinated by in spite of themselves, was her power of telling stories, and of making everything she talked about seem like a story, whether it was one or not.

06Anyone who has been at school with a teller of stories knows what the wonder means, how he or she is followed about and besought in a whisper to relate romances, how groups gather round and hang on the outskirts of the favoured party in the hope of being allowed to join in and listen.

07Sarah not only could tell stories, but she adored telling them.

08When she sat or stood in the midst of a circle and began to invent wonderful things, her green eyes grew big and shining, her cheeks flushed, and without knowing that she was doing it, she began to act, and made what she told lovely or alarming by the raising or dropping of her voice, the bend and sway of her slim body, and the dramatic movement of her hands.

09She forgot that she was talking to listening children.

10She saw and lived with the fairy folk, or the kings and queens and beautiful ladies, whose adventures she was narrating.

11Sometimes, when she had finished her story, she was quite out of breath with excitement, and would lay her hand on her thin, little, quick-rising chest and half laugh as if at herself.

12"'When I am telling it,' she would say, "'it doesn't seem as if it was only made up.

13It seems more real than you are—more real than the schoolroom.

14I feel as if I were all the people in the story, one after the other.

15It is queer.' She had been at Miss Minchin's school about two years, when, one foggy winter's afternoon, as she was getting out of her carriage, comfortably wrapped up in her warmest velvets and furs, and looking very much grander than she knew, she caught sight, as she crossed the pavement, of a dingy little figure standing on the area steps, and stretching its neck so that its wide open eyes might peer at her through the railings.

16Something in the eagerness and timidity of the smudgy face made her look at it, and when she looked she smiled, because it was her way to smile at people.

17But the owner of the smudgy face and the wide open eyes evidently was afraid that she ought not to have been caught looking at pupils of importance.

18She dodged out of sight like a jack-in-the-box, and scurried back into the kitchen, disappearing so suddenly that if she had not been a poor little forlorn thing, Sarah would have laughed in spite of herself.

19That very evening, as Sarah was sitting in the midst of a group of listeners in a corner of the schoolroom, telling one of her stories, the very same figure timidly entered the room, carrying a coal-box much too heavy for her, and knelt down on the hearth-rug to replenish the fire and sweep up the ashes.

20She was cleaner than she had been when she peeped through the area railings, but she looked just as frightened.

21She was evidently afraid to look at the children, or seemed to be listening.

22She put on pieces of coal cautiously with her fingers, so that she might make no disturbing noise, and she swept about the fire-irons very softly.

23But Sarah saw in two minutes that she was deeply interested in what was going on, and that she was doing her work slowly in the hope of catching a word here and there.

24And realising this, she raised her voice and spoke more clearly.

25The mermaid swam softly about in the crystal green water, and dragged after them a fishing-net woven of deep sea-pearls, she said.

26The princess sat on a white rock and watched them.

27It was a wonderful story about a princess who was loved by a Prince Merman, and went to live with him in shining caves under the sea.

28The small drudge before the grate swept the hearth once for, and then swept it again.

29Having done it twice, she did it three times.

30And as she was doing it the third time, the sound of the story so lured her to listen, that she fell under the spell, and actually forgot that she had no right to listen at all, and also forgot everything else.

31She sat upon her heels as she knelt on the hearth-rug, and the brush hung idly in her fingers.

32The voice of the story-teller went on, and drew her with it into winding grottoes under the sea, glowing with soft, clear blue light, and paved with pure golden sands.

33Strange sea-flowers and grasses waved about her, and far away faint singing and music echoed.

34The hearth-brush fell from the work-roughened hand, and Lavinia Herbert looked round.

35"'That girl has been listening,' she said.

36The culprit snatched up her brush and scrambled to her feet.

37She caught at the coal-box, and simply scuttled out of the room like a frightened rabbit.

38Sarah felt rather hot-tempered.

39"'I knew she was listening,' she said.

40"'Why shouldn't she?' Lavinia tossed her head with great elegance.

41"'Well,' she remarked, "'I do not know whether your mama would like you to tell stories to servant-girls, but I know my mama wouldn't like me to do it.' "'My mama,' said Sarah, looking odd.

42"'I don't believe she would mind in the least.

43She knows that stories belong to everybody.' "'I thought,' retorted Lavinia, in severe recollection, "'that your mama was dead.

44How can she know things?' "'Do you think she doesn't know things?' said Sarah, in her stern little voice.

45Sometimes she had a rather stern little voice.

46"'Sarah's mama knows everything,' piped in Lottie.

47"'So does my mama.

48"'Cept Sarah is my mama at Miss Minchin's.

49My other one knows everything.

50The streets are shining, and there are fields and fields of lilies, and everybody gathers them.

51Sarah tells me when she puts me to bed.' "'You wicked thing!' said Lavinia, turning on Sarah, "'making fairy stories about heaven!' "'There are much more splendid stories in Revelation,' returned Sarah.

52"'Just look and see.

53How do you know mine are fairy stories?' "'But I can tell you,' with a fine bit of unheavenly temper, "'you will never find out whether they are or not, if you are not kinder to people than you are now.

54"'Come along, Lottie.' And she marched out of the room, rather hoping that she might see the little servant again somewhere.

55But she found no trace of her when she got into the hall.

56"'Who is that little girl who makes the fires?' she asked Mariette that night.

57Mariette broke forth into a flow of description.

58"'Ah!

59Mademoiselle Sarah might well ask.

60She was a forlorn little thing, who had just taken the place of scullery-maid, though as to being scullery-maid she was everything else besides.

61She blacked boots and grates, and carried heavy coal-scuttles up and down stairs, and scrubbed floors and cleaned windows, and was ordered about by everybody.

62She was fourteen years old, but was so stunted in growth that she looked about twelve.

63In truth, Mariette was sorry for her.

64She was so timid that if one chanced to speak to her, it appeared as if her poor frightened eyes would jump out of her head.

65"'What is her name?' asked Sarah, who had sat by the table with her chin on her hands as she listened absorbedly to the recital.

66"'Her name was Becky.

67Mariette heard every one below stairs calling, "'Becky do this, and Becky do that, every five minutes in the day.' Sarah sat and looked into the fire, reflecting on Becky for some time after Mariette left her.

68She made up a story of which Becky was the ill-used heroine.

69She thought she looked as if she had never quite enough to eat.

70Her eyes were very hungry.

71She hoped she should see her again, but though she caught sight of her carrying things up or down stairs on several occasions, she always seemed in such a hurry, or so afraid of being seen, that it was impossible to speak to her.

72But a few weeks later, on another foggy afternoon, when she entered her sitting-room, she found herself confronting a rather pathetic picture.

73In her own special and pet easy-chair, before the bright fire, Becky, with a coal-smudge on her nose and several on her apron, with her poor little cap hanging half off her head, and an empty coal-box on the floor near her, sat fast asleep, tired out beyond even the endurance of her hard-working young body.

74She had been sent up to put the bedrooms in order for the evening.

75There were a great many of them, and she had been running about all day.

76Sarah's rooms she had saved until the last.

77They were not like the other rooms, which were plain and bare.

78Ordinary pupils were expected to be satisfied with mere necessaries.

79Sarah's comfortable sitting-room seemed a bower of luxury to the scullery-maid, though it was, in fact, merely a nice, bright little room.

80But there were pictures and books in it, and curious things from India.

81There was a sofa, and the low soft chair.

82Emily sat in a chair of her own, with the air of a presiding goddess, and there was always a glowing fire and a polished grate.

83Becky saved it until the end of her afternoon's work, because it rested her to go into it, and she always hoped to snatch a few minutes to sit down in the soft chair and look about her, and think about the wonderful good fortune of the child who owns such surroundings, and who went out on the cold days in beautiful hats and coats one tried to catch a glimpse of through the area railing.

84On this afternoon, when she had sat down, the sensation of relief to her short, aching legs had been so wonderful and delightful that it had seemed to soothe her whole body, and the glow of warmth and comfort from the fire had crept over her like a spell, until, as she looked at the red coals, a tired, slow smile stole over her smudged face, her head nodded forward without her being aware of it, her eyes drooped, and she fell fast asleep.

85She had really been only about ten minutes in the room when Sarah entered, but she was in as deep a sleep as if she had been like the sleeping beauty, slumbering for a hundred years.

86But she did not look, poor Becky, like a sleeping beauty at all.

87She looked only like an ugly, stunted, worn-out little scullery drudge.

88Sarah seemed as much unlike her as if she were a creature from another world.

89On this particular afternoon she had been taking her dancing lesson, and the afternoon on which the dancing-master appeared was rather a grand occasion at the seminary, though it occurred every week.

90The pupils were attired in their prettiest fox, and as Sarah danced particularly well, she was very much brought forward, and Mariette was requested to make her as diaphanous and fine as possible.

91To-day a frock the colour of a rose had been put on her, and Mariette had brought some real buds and made her a wreath to wear on her black locks.

92She had been learning a new delightful dance, in which she had been skimming and flying about the room like a large, rose-coloured butterfly, and the enjoyment and exercise had brought a brilliant, happy glow into her face.

93When she entered the room, she floated in with a few of the butterfly steps, and there sat Becky, nodding her cap sideways off her head.

94"'Oh!' cried Sarah softly, when she saw her.

95"'That poor thing!' It did not occur to her to feel cross at finding her pet chair occupied by the small, dingy creature.

96To tell the truth, she was quite glad to find it there.

97When the ill-used heroine of her story wakened, she could talk to her.

98She crept toward her quietly and stood looking at her.

99Becky gave a little snore.

100"'I wish she'd waken herself,' Sarah said.

101"'I don't like to waken her.

102But Miss Minchin would be cross if she found out.

103I'll just wait a few minutes.' She took a seat on the edge of the table, and sat swinging her slim, rose-coloured legs, and wondering what it would be best to do.

104Miss Amelia might come in at any moment, and if she did, Becky would be sure to be scolded.

105But she is so tired, she thought.

106She is so tired.

107A piece of flaming coal ended her perplexity for her that very moment.

108It broke off from a large lump and fell on to the fender.

109Becky started and opened her eyes with a frightened gasp.

110She did not know that she had fallen asleep.

111She had only sat down for one moment and felt the beautiful glow.

112And here she found herself staring in wild alarm at the wonderful pupil who sat perched quite near her, like a rose-coloured fairy with interested eyes.

113She sprang up and clatched at her cap.

114She felt it dangling over her ear, and tried wildly to put it straight.

115Oh!

116she had got herself into trouble now with a vengeance.

117To have impudently fallen asleep on such a young lady's chair, she would be turned out of doors without wages.

118She made a sound like a big breathless sob.

119Oh, Miss!

120Oh, Miss!

121she stuttered.

122I asked your pardon, Miss.

123Oh, I do, Miss!

124Sarah jumped down and came quite close to her.

125Don't be frightened, she said, quite as if she had been speaking to a little girl like herself.

126It doesn't matter the least bit.

127I didn't go to do it, Miss, protested Becky.

128It was the warm fire in me being so tired.

129It—it wasn't impertience.

130Sarah broke into a friendly little laugh and put her hand on her shoulder.

131You were tired, she said.

132You could not help it.

133You're not really awake yet.

134How poor Becky stared at her.

135In fact, she had never heard such a nice, friendly sound in anyone's voice before.

136She was used to being ordered about and scolded and having her ears boxed.

137And this one, in her rose-coloured dancing afternoon splendour, was looking at her if she was not a culprit at all, as if she had a right to be tired, even to fall asleep.

138The touch of the soft, slim little paw on her shoulder was the most amazing thing she had ever known.

139"'Ain't—ain't you angry, Miss?' she gasped.

140"'Ain't you going to tell the Misses?' "'No!' cried out Sarah.

141"'Of course I'm not.' The woeful fright in the coal-smutted face made her suddenly so sorry that she could scarcely bear it.

142One of her queer thoughts rushed into her mind.

143She put her hand against Becky's cheek.

144"'Why,' she said, "'we are just the same.

145I am only a little girl like you.

146It's just an accident that I am not you and you're not me.' Becky did not understand in the least.

147Her mind could not grasp such amazing thoughts, and an accident meant to her a calamity in which someone was run over or fell off a ladder and was carried to the hospital.

148"'A accident, Miss?' she fluttered respectfully.

149"'Is it?' "'Yes,' Sarah answered, and she looked at her dreamily for a moment.

150But the next she spoke in a different tone.

151She realized that Becky did not know what she meant.

152"'Have you done your work?' she asked.

153"'Dare you stay here a few minutes?' "'Becky lost her breath again.

154"'Here, Miss—me?' Sarah ran to the door and opened it, and looked out and listened.

155"'No one is anywhere about,' she explained.

156"'If your bedrooms are finished, perhaps you might stay a tiny while.

157I thought—perhaps—you might like a piece of cake.' The next ten minutes seemed to Becky like a sort of delirium.

158Sarah opened a cupboard and gave her a thick slice of cake.

159She seemed to rejoice when it was devoured in hungry bites.

160She talked and asked questions and laughed until Becky's fears actually began to calm themselves, and she once or twice gathered boldness enough to ask a question or so herself, daring as she felt it to be.

161"'Is that?' she ventured, looking longingly at the rose-coloured frog, and she asked it almost in a whisper.

162"'Is that there your best?' "'It is one of my dancing-frogs,' answered Sarah.

163"'I like it.

164Don't you?' For a few seconds Becky was almost speechless with admiration.

165Then she said in an awed voice, "'Wonced I see a princess.

166I was standing in the street with the crowd outside Covent Garden, watching the swells go into the opera.

167And there was one everyone stared at most, and they says to each other, "'That's a princess.

168She was a growed-up young lady, but she was pink all over, and gown, and cloak, and flowers, and all.

169I called her to mind the minute I see you, sitting there on the table, miss.

170You look like her.' "'I've often thought,' said Sarah, in her reflecting voice, "'that I should like to be a princess.

171I wonder what it feels like.

172I believe I will begin pretending I am one.' Becky stared at her admiringly, and as before did not understand her in the least.

173She watched her with a sort of adoration.

174Very soon Sarah left her reflections and turned to her with a new question.

175"'Becky,' she said, "'Weren't you listening to that story?' "'Yes, miss,' confessed Becky, a little alarmed again.

176"'I knowed I had naught to, but it was that beautiful.

177I couldn't help it.' "'I liked you to listen to it,' said Sarah.

178"'If you tell stories, you like nothing so much as to tell them to people who want to listen.

179I don't know why it is.

180Would you like to hear the rest?' Becky lost her breath again.

181"'Me hear it?' she cried.

182"'Like as if I was a pupil, miss.

183All about for Prince, and the little white mer babies swin' about and laughin' with the stars in their air.' Sarah nodded.

184"'You haven't time to hear it now, I'm afraid,' she said.

185"'But if you will tell me just what time you come to do my rooms, I will try to be here and tell you a bit of it every day until it is finished.

186It's a lovely long one, and I'm always putting new bits to it.' "'Then,' breathed Becky devoutly, "'I wouldn't mind how heavy the coal boxes was, or what the cook done to me, if—if I might have that to think of.' "'You may,' said Sarah.

187"'I'll tell it all to you.' When Becky went downstairs, she was not the same Becky who had staggered up, loaded down by the weight of the coal-scuttle.

188She had an extra piece of cake in her pocket, and she had been fed and warmed, not only by cake and fire.

189Something else had warmed and fed her, and the something else was Sarah.

190When she was gone, Sarah sat on her favourite perch on the end of her table.

191Her feet were on a chair, her elbows on her knees, and her chin was in her hands.

192"'If I was a princess—a real princess,' she murmured, I could scatter largesse to the populace.

193But even if I am only a pretend princess, I can invent little things to do for people— things like this.

194She was just as happy as if it was largesse.

195I'll pretend that to do things people like is scattering largesse.

196I've scattered largesse.'" End of chapter 5