English
Onthatfirstmorning,whenSarasatatMissMinchin’sside,awarethatthewholeschoolroomwasdevotingitselftoobservingher,shehadnoticedverysoononelittlegirl,aboutherownage,wholookedatherveryhardwithapairoflight,ratherdull,blueeyes.
Shewasafatchildwhodidnotlookasifshewereintheleastclever,butshehadagood-naturedlypoutingmouth.
Herflaxenhairwasbraidedinatightpigtail,tiedwitharibbon,andshehadpulledthispigtailaroundherneck,andwasbitingtheendoftheribbon,restingherelbowsonthedesk,asshestaredwonderinglyatthenewpupil.
WhenMonsieurDufargebegantospeaktoSara,shelookedalittlefrightened;andwhenSarasteppedforwardand,lookingathimwiththeinnocent,appealingeyes,answeredhim,withoutanywarning,inFrench,thefatlittlegirlgaveastartledjump,andgrewquiteredinherawedamazement.
Havingwepthopelesstearsforweeksinhereffortstorememberthat“lamere”meant“themother,”and“lepere,”“thefather,”—whenonespokesensibleEnglish—itwasalmosttoomuchforhersuddenlytofindherselflisteningtoachildherownagewhoseemednotonlyquitefamiliarwiththesewords,butapparentlyknewanynumberofothers,andcouldmixthemupwithverbsasiftheyweremeretrifles.
ShestaredsohardandbittheribbononherpigtailsofastthatsheattractedtheattentionofMissMinchin,who,feelingextremelycrossatthemoment,immediatelypounceduponher.
“MissSt.John!”sheexclaimedseverely.“Whatdoyoumeanbysuchconduct?Removeyourelbows!Takeyourribbonoutofyourmouth!Situpatonce!”
UponwhichMissSt.Johngaveanotherjump,andwhenLaviniaandJessietitteredshebecameredderthanever—sored,indeed,thatshealmostlookedasiftearswerecomingintoherpoor,dull,childisheyes;andSarasawherandwassosorryforherthatshebeganrathertolikeherandwanttobeherfriend.
Itwasawayofhersalwaystowanttospringintoanyfrayinwhichsomeonewasmadeuncomfortableorunhappy.
“IfSarahadbeenaboyandlivedafewcenturiesago,”herfatherusedtosay,“shewouldhavegoneaboutthecountrywithhersworddrawn,rescuinganddefendingeveryoneindistress.
Shealwayswantstofightwhensheseespeopleintrouble.”
Soshetookratherafancytofat,slow,littleMissSt.John,andkeptglancingtowardherthroughthemorning.
Shesawthatlessonswerenoeasymattertoher,andthattherewasnodangerofhereverbeingspoiledbybeingtreatedasashowpupil.HerFrenchlessonwasapatheticthing.
HerpronunciationmadeevenMonsieurDufargesmileinspiteofhimself,andLaviniaandJessieandthemorefortunategirlseithergiggledorlookedatherinwonderingdisdain.ButSaradidnotlaugh.
ShetriedtolookasifshedidnothearwhenMissSt.Johncalled“lebonpain,”“leebongpang.”
Shehadafine,hotlittletemperofherown,anditmadeherfeelrathersavagewhensheheardthetittersandsawthepoor,stupid,distressedchild’sface.
“Itisn’tfunny,really,”shesaidbetweenherteeth,asshebentoverherbook.“Theyoughtnottolaugh.”
Whenlessonswereoverandthepupilsgatheredtogetheringroupstotalk,SaralookedforMissSt.John,andfindingherbundledratherdisconsolatelyinawindow-seat,shewalkedovertoherandspoke.
Sheonlysaidthekindofthinglittlegirlsalwayssaytoeachotherbywayofbeginninganacquaintance,buttherewassomethingfriendlyaboutSara,andpeoplealwaysfeltit.
“Whatisyourname?”shesaid.
ToexplainMissSt.John’samazementonemustrecallthatanewpupilis,forashorttime,asomewhatuncertainthing;andofthisnewpupiltheentireschoolhadtalkedthenightbeforeuntilitfellasleepquiteexhaustedbyexcitementandcontradictorystories.
Anewpupilwithacarriageandaponyandamaid,andavoyagefromIndiatodiscuss,wasnotanordinaryacquaintance.
“Myname’sErmengardeSt.John,”sheanswered.
“MineisSaraCrewe,”saidSara.“Yoursisverypretty.Itsoundslikeastorybook.”
“Doyoulikeit?”flutteredErmengarde.“I—Ilikeyours.”
MissSt.John’schieftroubleinlifewasthatshehadacleverfather.
Sometimesthisseemedtoheradreadfulcalamity.
Ifyouhaveafatherwhoknowseverything,whospeakssevenoreightlanguages,andhasthousandsofvolumeswhichhehasapparentlylearnedbyheart,hefrequentlyexpectsyoutobefamiliarwiththecontentsofyourlessonbooksatleast;anditisnotimprobablethathewillfeelyououghttobeabletorememberafewincidentsofhistoryandtowriteaFrenchexercise.
ErmengardewasaseveretrialtoMr.St.John.
Hecouldnotunderstandhowachildofhiscouldbeanotablyandunmistakablydullcreaturewhonevershoneinanything.
“Goodheavens!”hehadsaidmorethanonce,ashestaredather,“therearetimeswhenIthinksheisasstupidasherAuntEliza!”
IfherAuntElizahadbeenslowtolearnandquicktoforgetathingentirelywhenshehadlearnedit,Ermengardewasstrikinglylikeher.
Shewasthemonumentaldunceoftheschool,anditcouldnotbedenied.
“Shemustbemadetolearn,”herfathersaidtoMissMinchin.
ConsequentlyErmengardespentthegreaterpartofherlifeindisgraceorintears.
Shelearnedthingsandforgotthem;or,ifsherememberedthem,shedidnotunderstandthem.
Soitwasnaturalthat,havingmadeSara’sacquaintance,sheshouldsitandstareatherwithprofoundadmiration.
“YoucanspeakFrench,can’tyou?”shesaidrespectfully.
Saragotontothewindow-seat,whichwasabig,deepone,and,tuckingupherfeet,satwithherhandsclaspedroundherknees.
“IcanspeakitbecauseIhavehearditallmylife,”sheanswered.“Youcouldspeakitifyouhadalwaysheardit.”
“Oh,no,Icouldn’t,”saidErmengarde.“Inevercouldspeakit!”
“Why?”inquiredSara,curiously.
Ermengardeshookherheadsothatthepigtailwobbled.
“Youheardmejustnow,”shesaid.“I’malwayslikethat.Ican’tsaythewords.They’resoqueer.”
Shepausedamoment,andthenaddedwithatouchofaweinhervoice,“Youareclever,aren’tyou?”
Saralookedoutofthewindowintothedingysquare,wherethesparrowswerehoppingandtwitteringonthewet,ironrailingsandthesootybranchesofthetrees.Shereflectedafewmoments.
Shehadhearditsaidveryoftenthatshewas“clever,”andshewonderedifshewas—andifshewas,howithadhappened.
“Idon’tknow,”shesaid.“Ican’ttell.”Then,seeingamournfullookontheround,chubbyface,shegavealittlelaughandchangedthesubject.
“WouldyouliketoseeEmily?”sheinquired.
“WhoisEmily?”Ermengardeasked,justasMissMinchinhaddone.
“Comeuptomyroomandsee,”saidSara,holdingoutherhand.
Theyjumpeddownfromthewindow-seattogether,andwentupstairs.
“Isittrue,”Ermengardewhispered,astheywentthroughthehall--“isittruethatyouhaveaplayroomalltoyourself?”
“Yes,”Saraanswered.“PapaaskedMissMinchintoletmehaveone,because—well,itwasbecausewhenIplayImakeupstoriesandtellthemtomyself,andIdon’tlikepeopletohearme.ItspoilsitifIthinkpeoplelisten.”
TheyhadreachedthepassageleadingtoSara’sroombythistime,andErmengardestoppedshort,staring,andquitelosingherbreath.
“Youmakeupstories!”shegasped.“Canyoudothat—aswellasspeakFrench?Canyou?”
Saralookedatherinsimplesurprise.
“Why,anyonecanmakeupthings,”shesaid.“Haveyounevertried?”
SheputherhandwarninglyonErmengarde’s.
“Letusgoveryquietlytothedoor,”shewhispered,“andthenIwillopenitquitesuddenly;perhapswemaycatchher.”
Shewashalflaughing,buttherewasatouchofmysterioushopeinhereyeswhichfascinatedErmengarde,thoughshehadnottheremotestideawhatitmeant,orwhomitwasshewantedto“catch,”orwhyshewantedtocatchher.
Whatsoevershemeant,Ermengardewassureitwassomethingdelightfullyexciting.
So,quitethrilledwithexpectation,shefollowedherontiptoealongthepassage.
Theymadenottheleastnoiseuntiltheyreachedthedoor.
ThenSarasuddenlyturnedthehandle,andthrewitwideopen.
Itsopeningrevealedtheroomquiteneatandquiet,afiregentlyburninginthegrate,andawonderfuldollsittinginachairbyit,apparentlyreadingabook.
“Oh,shegotbacktoherseatbeforewecouldseeher!”Saraexplained.“Ofcoursetheyalwaysdo.Theyareasquickaslightning.”
Ermengardelookedfromhertothedollandbackagain.
“Canshe—walk?”sheaskedbreathlessly.
“Yes,”answeredSara.“AtleastIbelieveshecan.AtleastIpretendIbelieveshecan.Andthatmakesitseemasifitweretrue.Haveyouneverpretendedthings?”
“No,”saidErmengarde.“Never.I—tellmeaboutit.”
Shewassobewitchedbythisodd,newcompanionthatsheactuallystaredatSarainsteadofatEmily—notwithstandingthatEmilywasthemostattractivedollpersonshehadeverseen.
“Letussitdown,”saidSara,“andIwilltellyou.
It’ssoeasythatwhenyoubeginyoucan’tstop.Youjustgoonandondoingitalways.Andit’sbeautiful.Emily,youmustlisten.ThisisErmengardeSt.John,Emily.Ermengarde,thisisEmily.Wouldyouliketoholdher?”
“Oh,mayI?”saidErmengarde.“MayI,really?Sheisbeautiful!”AndEmilywasputintoherarms.
Neverinherdull,shortlifehadMissSt.Johndreamedofsuchanhourastheoneshespentwiththequeernewpupilbeforetheyheardthelunch-bellringandwereobligedtogodownstairs.
Sarasatuponthehearth-rugandtoldherstrangethings.
Shesatratherhuddledup,andhergreeneyesshoneandhercheeksflushed.
Shetoldstoriesofthevoyage,andstoriesofIndia;butwhatfascinatedErmengardethemostwasherfancyaboutthedollswhowalkedandtalked,andwhocoulddoanythingtheychosewhenthehumanbeingswereoutoftheroom,butwhomustkeeptheirpowersasecretandsoflewbacktotheirplaces“likelightning”whenpeoplereturnedtotheroom.
“Wecouldn’tdoit,”saidSara,seriously.“Yousee,it’sakindofmagic.”
Once,whenshewasrelatingthestoryofthesearchforEmily,Ermengardesawherfacesuddenlychange.
Acloudseemedtopassoveritandputoutthelightinhershiningeyes.
Shedrewherbreathinsosharplythatitmadeafunny,sadlittlesound,andthensheshutherlipsandheldthemtightlyclosed,asifshewasdeterminedeithertodoornottodosomething.
Ermengardehadanideathatifshehadbeenlikeanyotherlittlegirl,shemighthavesuddenlyburstoutsobbingandcrying.Butshedidnot.
“Haveyoua—apain?”Ermengardeventured.
“Yes,”Saraanswered,afteramoment’ssilence.“Butitisnotinmybody.”
Thensheaddedsomethinginalowvoicewhichshetriedtokeepquitesteady,anditwasthis:“Doyouloveyourfathermorethananythingelseinallthewholeworld?”
Ermengarde’smouthfellopenalittle.Sheknewthatitwouldbefarfrombehavinglikearespectablechildataselectseminarytosaythatithadneveroccurredtoyouthatyoucouldloveyourfather,thatyouwoulddoanythingdesperatetoavoidbeingleftaloneinhissocietyfortenminutes.Shewas,indeed,greatlyembarrassed.
“I—Iscarcelyeverseehim,”shestammered.“Heisalwaysinthelibrary—readingthings.”
“Iloveminemorethanalltheworldtentimesover,”Sarasaid.“Thatiswhatmypainis.Hehasgoneaway.”
Sheputherheadquietlydownonherlittle,huddled-upknees,andsatverystillforafewminutes.
“She’sgoingtocryoutloud,”thoughtErmengarde,fearfully.
Butshedidnot.Hershort,blacklockstumbledaboutherears,andshesatstill.Thenshespokewithoutliftingherhead.
“IpromisedhimIwouldbearit,”shesaid.“AndIwill.Youhavetobearthings.Thinkwhatsoldiersbear!Papaisasoldier.
Iftherewasawarhewouldhavetobearmarchingandthirstinessand,perhaps,deepwounds.
Andhewouldneversayaword—notoneword.”
Ermengardecouldonlygazeather,butshefeltthatshewasbeginningtoadoreher.Shewassowonderfulanddifferentfromanyoneelse.
Presently,sheliftedherfaceandshookbackherblacklocks,withaqueerlittlesmile.
“IfIgoontalkingandtalking,”shesaid,“andtellingyouthingsaboutpretending,Ishallbearitbetter.Youdon’tforget,butyoubearitbetter.”
Ermengardedidnotknowwhyalumpcameintoherthroatandhereyesfeltasiftearswereinthem.
“LaviniaandJessieare`bestfriends,’”shesaidratherhuskily.“Iwishwecouldbe`bestfriends.’Wouldyouhavemeforyours?
You’reclever,andI’mthestupidestchildintheschool,butI—oh,Idosolikeyou!”
“I’mgladofthat,”saidSara.“Itmakesyouthankfulwhenyouareliked.Yes.Wewillbefriends.AndI’lltellyouwhat”—asuddengleamlightingherface—”IcanhelpyouwithyourFrenchlessons.”
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