4. Lottie
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4. LottieIf Sara had been a different kind of child, the life she led at Miss Mins Select Seminary for the few years would not have been at all good for her. She was treated more as if she were a distinguished guest at the establishment than as if she were a mere little girl. If she had been a self-opinionated, domineering child, she might have bee disagreeable enough to be unbearable through being so mudulged and flattered. If she had been an i child, she would have learned nothing. Privately Miss Min disliked her, but she was far too worldly a woman to do or say anything which might make such a desirable pupil wish to leave her school. She knew quite well that if Sara wrote to her papa to tell him she was unfortable or unhappy, Captain Crewe would remove her at once. Miss Mins opinion was that if a child were tinually praised and never forbidden to do what she liked, she would be sure to be fond of the place where she was so treated. Accly, Sara raised for her quiess at her lessons, for her good manners, for her amiability to her fellow pupils, for her generosity if she gave sixpeo a beggar out of her full little purse; the simplest thing she did was treated as if it were a virtue, and if she had not had a disposition and a clever little brain, she might have been a very self-satisfied young person. But the clever little brain told her a great many sensible and true things about herself and her circumstances, and now and thealked these things over tarde as time went on.
"Things happen to people by act," she used to say. "A lot of nice acts have happeo me. It just happehat I always liked lessons and books, and could remember things when I learhem. It just happehat I was born with a father who was beautiful and nid clever, and could give me everything I liked. Perhaps I have not really a good temper at all, but if you have everything you want and everyone is kind to you, how you help but be good-tempered? I dont know"--looking quite serious--"how I shall ever find out whether I am really a nice child or a horrid one. Perhaps Im a hideous child, and no one will ever know, just because I never have any trials."
"Lavinia has no trials," said Ermengarde, stolidly, "and she is horrid enough."
Sara rubbed the end of her little nose reflectively, as she thought the matter over.
"Well," she said at last, "perhaps--perhaps that is because Lavinia is growing." This was the result of a charitable recolle of having heard Miss Amelia say that Lavinia was growing so fast that she believed it affected her health and temper.
Lavinia, in fact, iteful. She was inordinately jealous of Sara. Until the new pupils arrival, she had felt herself the leader in the school. She had led because she was capable of making herself extremely disagreeable if the others did not follow her. She domineered over the little children, and assumed grand airs with those big enough to be her panions. She was rather pretty, and had been the best-dressed pupil in the processiohe Select Seminary walked out two by two, until Saras velvet coats and sable muffs appeared, bined with drooping ostrich feathers, and were led by Miss Min at the head of the lihis, at the beginning, had been bitter enough; but as time went on it became apparent that Sara was a leader, too, and not because she could make herself disagreeable, but because she never did.
"Theres ohing about Sara Crewe," Jessie had enraged her "best friend" by saying holy, "shes never `grand about herself the least bit, and you know she might be, Lavvie. I believe I couldnt help being--just a little--if I had so many fihings and was made such a fuss over. Its disgusting, the way Miss Min shows her off when parents e."
"`Dear Sara must e into the drawing room and talk to Mrs. Musgrave about India," mimicked Lavinia, in her most highly flavored imitation of Miss Min. "`Dear Sara must speak French to Lady Pitkin. Her at is so perfect. She didnt learn her French at the Seminary, at any rate. And theres nothing so clever in her knowing it. She says herself she didnt learn it at all. She just picked it up, because she always heard her papa speak it. And, as to her papa, there is nothing so grand in being an Indian officer."
"Well," said Jessie, slowly, "hes killed tigers. He killed the one in the skin Sara has in her room. Thats why she likes it so. She lies on it and strokes its head, and talks to it as if it was a cat."
"Shes always doing something silly," snapped Lavinia. "My mamma says that way of hers of pretending things is silly. She says she will grow up etric."
It was quite true that Sara was never "grand." She was a friendly little soul, and shared her privileges and belongings with a free hand. The little ones, who were aced to being disdained and ordered out of the way by mature ladies aged ten and twelve, were never made to cry by this mos<cite></cite>t envied of them all. She was a motherly young person, and when people fell down and scraped their knees, she ran and helped them up and patted them, or found in her pocket a bonbon or some other article of a soothing nature. She never pushed them out of her way or alluded to their years as a humiliation and a blot upon their small characters.
"If you are four you are four," she said severely to Lavinia on an occasion of her having--it must be fessed--slapped Lottie and called her "a brat;" "but you will be five year, and six the year after that. And," opening large, vig eyes, "it takes sixteen years to make you twenty."
"Dear me," said Lavinia, "how we calculate!" In fact, it was not to be dehat sixteen and four made twenty--and twenty was ahe most daring were scarcely bold enough to dream of.
So the younger children adored Sara. More than once she had been known to have a tea party, made up of these despised ones, in her own room. And Emily had been played with, and Emilys own tea service used-- the oh cups which held quite a lot of much-sweetened weak tea and had blue flowers on them. No one had seen such a very real dolls tea set before. From that afternoon Sara was regarded as a goddess and a queen by the entire alphabet class.
Lottle Legh worshipped her to su extent that if Sara had not been a motherly person, she would have fouiresome. Lottie had beeo school by a rather flighty young papa who could not imagine what else to do with her. Her young mother had died, and as the child had beeed like a favorite doll or a very spoiled pet monkey or lap dog ever sihe first hour of her life, she was a very appalling little creature. When she wanted anything or did not want anything she wept and howled; and, as she always wahe things she could not have, and did not want the things that were best for her, her shrill little voice was usually to be heard uplifted in wails in one part of the house or another.
Her stro on was that in some mysterious way she had found out that a very small girl who had lost her mother erson who ought to be pitied and made much of. She had probably heard some grown-up people talking her over in the early days, after her mothers death. So it became her habit to make great use of this knowledge.
The first time Sara took her in charge was one m when, on passing a sitting room, she heard both Miss Min and Miss Amelia trying to suppress the angry wails of some child who, evidently, refused to be silenced. She refused so strenuously ihat Miss Min was obliged to almost shout--in a stately and severe manner-- to make herself heard.
"What is she g for?" she almost yelled.
"Oh--oh--oh!" Sara heard; "I havent got any mam--ma-a!"
"Oh, Lottie!" screamed Miss Amelia. "Do stop, darling! Dont cry! Please dont!"
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" Lottle howled tempestuously. "Havent- -got--any--mam--ma-a!"
"She ought to be whipped," Miss Min proclaimed. "You shall be whipped, you naughty child!"
Lottle wailed more loudly than ever. Miss Amelia began to cry. Miss Mins voice rose until it almost thuhen suddenly she sprang up from her chair in impotent indignation and flounced out of the room, leaving Miss Amelia te the matter.
Sara had paused in the hall, w if she ought to go into the room, because she had retly begun a friendly acquaintah Lottie and might be able to quiet her. When Miss Min came out and saw her, she looked rather annoyed. She realized that her voice, as heard from ihe room, could not have sounded either dignified or amiable.
"Oh, Sara!" she exclaimed, endeav to produce a suitable smile.
"I stopped," explained Sara, "because I knew<u>?</u> it was Lottie-- and I thought, perhaps--just perhaps, I could make her be quiet. May I try, Miss Min?"
"If you , you are a clever child," answered Miss Min, drawing in her mouth sharply. Then, seeing that Sara looked slightly chilled by her asperity, she ged her manner. "But you are clever ihing," she said in her approving way. "I dare say you manage her. Go in." And she left her.
When Sara ehe room, Lottie was lying upon the floor, screaming and kig her small fat legs violently, and Miss Amelia was bending over her in sternation and despair, looking quite red and damp with heat. Lottie had always found, when in her own nursery at home, that kig and screaming would always be quieted by any means she insisted on. Poor plump Miss Amelia was trying first ohod, and then another.
"Poor darling," she said one moment, "I know you havent any mamma, poor--" Then in quite aone, "If you dont stop, Lottie, I will shake you. Poor little ahere--! You wicked, bad, detestable child, I will smack you! I will!"
Sara went to them quietly. She did not know at all what she was<q>.9９lｉｂ.</q> going to do, but she had a vague inward vi that it would be better not to say such different kinds of things quite so helplessly aedly.
"Miss Amelia," she said in a low voice, "Miss Min says I may try to make her stop--may I?"
Miss Amelia turned and looked at her hopelessly. "Oh, do you think you ?" she gasped.
"I dont know whether I ", answered Sara, still in her half- whisper; "but I will try."
Miss Amelia stumbled up from her knees with a heavy sigh, and Lotties fat little legs kicked as hard as ever.
"If you will steal out of the room," said Sara, "I will stay with her."
"Oh, Sara!" almost whimpered Miss Amelia. "We never had such a dreadful child before. I dont believe we keep her."
But she crept out of the room, and was very much relieved to find an excuse for doing it.
Sara stood by the howling furious child for a few moments, and looked down at her without saying anything. The down flat on the floor beside her and waited. Except for Lotties angry screams, the room was quite quiet. This was a ate of affairs for little Miss Legh, who was aced, when she screamed, to hear other people protest and implore and and and coax by turns. To lie and kid shriek, and find the only person near you not seeming to mind in the least, attracted her attention. She opened her tight-shut streaming eyes to see who this person was. And it was only another little girl. But it was the one who owned Emily and all the hings. And she was looking at her steadily and as if she was merely thinking. Having paused for a few seds to find this out, Lottie thought she must begin again, but the quiet of the room and of Saras odd, ied face made her first howl rather half-hearted.
"I--havent--any--ma--ma--ma-a!" she announced; but her voice was not s.
Sara looked at her still more steadily, but with a sort of uanding in her eyes.
"her have I," she said.
This was so ued that it was astounding. Lottie actually dropped her legs, gave a wriggle, and lay and stared. A new idea will stop a g child when nothing else will. Also it was true that while Lottie disliked Miss Min, who was cross, and Miss Amelia, who was foolishly indulgent, she rather liked Sara, little as she knew her. She did not want to give up her grievance, but her thoughts were distracted from it, so she wriggled again, and, after a sulky sob, said, "Where is she?"
Sara paused a moment. Because she had been told that her mamma was in heaven, she had thought a great deal about the matter, ahoughts had not been quite like those of other people.
"She went to heaven," she said. "But I am sure she es out sometimes to see me--though I dont see her. So does yours. Perhaps they both see us now. Perhaps they are both in this room."
Lottle sat bolt upright, and looked about her. She retty, little, curly-headed creature, and her round eyes were like wet fet-me-nots. If her mamma had seen her during the last half-hour, she might not have thought her the kind of child who ought to be related to an angel.
Sara went on talking. Perhaps some people might think that what she said was rather like a fairy story, but it was all so real to her own imagination that Lottie began to listen in spite of herself. She had been told that her mamma had wings and a , and she had been shown pictures of ladies iiful white nightgowns, who were said to be angels. But Sara seemed to be telling a real story about a lovely try where real people were.
"There are fields and fields of flowers," she said, fetting herself, as usual, when she began, and talking rather as if she were in a dream, "fields and fields of lilies--and when the soft wind blows over them it wafts the st of them into the air--and everybody always breathes it, because the soft wind is always blowing. And little children run about in the lily fields and gather armfuls of them, and laugh and make little wreaths. And the streets are shining. And people are ired, however far they walk. They float ahey like. And there are walls made of pearl and gold all round the city, but they are low enough for the people to go and lean on them, and look down onto the earth and smile, and seiful messages."
Whatsoever story she had begun to tell, Lottie would, no doubt, have stopped g, and been fas藏书网ated into listening; but there was no denying that this story rettier than most others. She dragged herself close to Sara, and drank in every word until the end came--far too soon. When it did e, she was so sorry that she put up her lip ominously.
"I want to go there," she cried. "I--havent any mamma in this school."
Sara saw the danger signal, and came out of her dream. She took hold of the chubby hand and pulled her close to her side with a coaxing little laugh.
"I will be your mamma," she said. "We will play that you are my little girl. And Emily shall be your sister."
Lotties dimples all began to show themselves.
"Shall she?" she said.
"Yes," answered Sara, jumping to her feet. "Let us go and tell her. And then I will wash your fad brush your hair."
To which Lottie agreed quite cheerfully, and trotted out of the room and upstairs with her, without seeming even to remember that the whole of the last hours tragedy had been caused by the fact that she had refused to be washed and brushed for lund Miss Min had been called in to use her majestic authority.
And from that time Sara was an adopted mother.
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