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Princess Sarah And Other Stories Part 5

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"Mayn't I just wash my hands?" Sarah asked imploringly of May.

"Of course," May answered, good-naturedly. "I'll go with you and make you straight."

May was very good-natured, though it is true that she was somewhat condescending; and she went with Sarah and showed her the room she was to share with Janey and Lily, showed her where to wash her face and hands, and herself combed her hair and made her look quite presentable.

"There! you look all right; let Miss Clark see you," she said. And, after Sarah had been for inspection and approval, she followed the maid, and went down, for the first time in her life, to dessert.

"'Ere she is!" Mrs. Stubbs exclaimed, as the little figure in black appeared in the doorway. "Flossie ought to have known you would come down to dessert the first evening; and, after that, you must take it in turn with the others."



"Yes, Auntie," said Sarah shyly, taking the chair next to Mrs. Stubbs, for which she was thankful.

"Will you 'ave some grapes, my dear?" Mrs. Stubbs asked kindly.

"Sarah 'd like a nectarine," said Mr. Stubbs, who made a G.o.d of his stomach, and loved good things.

"I doubt if she will," his wife said; "they're bitter to a child's taste; but 'ave which you like best, Sarah."

"Grapes, please, Auntie," said Sarah promptly.

As a matter of fact, Sarah did not exactly know what nectarines were; and, not liking to confess her ignorance, lest by doing so she should bring on herself sarcastic glances, to be followed later by sarcastic remarks from Flossie and Tom, she chose what she was sure of; besides, she did not want to run the risk of getting something upon her plate which she did not like, and perhaps could not eat. Poor Sarah still had a lively recollection of once helping herself to a piece of crystallised ginger when out to tea with her father. She could not bear hot things, and it seemed to her that that piece of ginger was the hottest morsel she had ever put in her mouth. She sucked and sucked in the hope of reducing it, and so getting rid of it, and the harder she sucked the hotter it grew. She tried crushing it between her sharp young teeth, but that process only seemed to bring out the heat more and more.

And at last, in sheer desperation, Sarah bethought herself of her pocket-handkerchief, and, putting it up as if to wipe her lips, ejected the pungent morsel, and at the same time seized the opportunity of putting her poor little burning tongue out to cool.

"Have another piece of ginger, dear," the lady of the house had said, seeing that her plate was empty.

CHAPTER VII

COUSINLY AMENITIES

The following morning Mrs. Stubbs began preparing vigorously for the move to Brighton, which the family invariably made at this time of the year. Usually, indeed, they went a week or so earlier, but Mrs. Stubbs being at Bridgehampton, Miss Clark had done no more towards going than to see that the children's summer and seaside frocks and other clothes were all ready.

"I think May and Flossie must 'ave new white best frocks," Mrs. Stubbs remarked; "and Sarah's things must be attended to. I knew it was no use getting the child anything but a black frock in that old-fashioned Bridge'ampton. I'd better go and see about them this morning; and if they're not done by Thursday they can come after us."

So Sarah was dressed, and with May went out in the neat "broom" with Mrs. Stubbs; and when she had arranged about the white frocks for her own children, Mrs. Stubbs began to lay in a stock of clothes for Sarah.

Poor Sarah was bewildered, and felt more ready to cry than anything else.

"Am I to wear _all_ these?" she asked, with what was almost horror, as she surveyed the pile of stockings, petticoats, gloves, sash-ribbons, pocket-handkerchiefs, and such things, which quickly acc.u.mulated upon the counter.

Mrs. Stubbs laughed good-naturedly. "You won't say 'all' when you've been a month at Brighton grubbing about on the shingle and going donkey-rides, and such like. You must be tidy, you know, Sarah. And I told you" (in an undertone) "that you would be the same as my own. I never do things by 'alves; I'm not one of that sort, thank 'eaven."

So, to Sarah's dismay, she bought lavishly of many things--frocks, boots, smart pinafores, a pretty, light summer jacket, and two hats, one a white sailor hat, the other a black trimmed one for best.

"Do you take cold easy, Sarah?" Mrs. Stubbs inquired, pausing as they went out of the showroom before a huge pile of furs.

"I think I do rather, Auntie; and I had bronchitis last year."

"That settles it!" her aunt exclaimed. "I don't believe in bronchitis and doctors' bills; waste of money, I call it. You shall 'ave a fur cape."

Now for two years past the dream of Sarah's life had been to possess a fur cape--"a beautiful, warm, soft, and lovely fur cape," as she expressed it; but until now, poor child, she had never dared to think it might ever be more than a dream--that it might come to be a possibility or a reality. The sudden realization was almost too much for her. She gave a little gasp of delight, and squeezed her aunt's arm _hard_.

"Oh, Auntie!" she whispered, with a sob of delight, "what shall I ever do for you?"

"Nay, nay! don't, Sarah!" Mrs. Stubbs expostulated, fearing the child was going to break down. "Be a good girl and love your aunt, that's all, dear."

"Oh, Auntie, I do, I do!" Sarah whispered back; "but if only Father knew--if only he knew!"

"Why, maybe he does," said Mrs. Stubbs kindly. "But come, Sarah, my dear, let us try your cape on. We are wasting this gentleman's time."

The gentleman in question protested that it was of no consequence, and begged Mrs. Stubbs not to hurry herself. But time was pa.s.sing, and Mrs.

Stubbs wanted to get home again, so she urged Sarah to be quick.

Ten minutes later Sarah was the proud possessor of a beautiful brown fur cape, just a little large for her, "that she might have room to grow,"

but so warm and cosy, and so entirely to her liking, that, in spite of the sultry day, the child would willingly have kept it on and gone home in it. She did not, however, dare to propose it to her aunt, and if she had done so Mrs. Stubbs had far too much good sense to have allowed it.

So they went home gaily enough to lunch, which was the young folk's dinner, but not without a pet.i.tion from May that they should stop at some nice shop and have ices.

"It will spoil your dinner!" exclaimed Mrs. Stubbs.

"Oh, no, Mother," said May, who sometimes called her mother so. "And Sarah _ought_ to have an ice the very first time she has ever had a drive with you."

Thus pressed, Mrs. Stubbs gave in, and stopped the carriage at a confectioner's in Regent Street.

"I'll have Vanilla," said May. "Which are you going to have, Sarah?"

"Whichever you like," said Sarah, who had never tasted an ice in her life, and was thus gaining another new experience.

"Try strawberry, then," said May, "and then we can help one another to a spoonful."

Sarah did try strawberry, and very good she found it. And then, when they had each eaten about half of their ices, May proposed that they should change about. Sarah did not find the Vanilla ice nearly so much to her liking as the strawberry one had been; but not liking to say so, as her cousin seemed to appreciate the change, she finished her portion, and said she had enjoyed herself very much.

"You'll buy us some sweets, Ma?" said May.

Sarah stared aghast; it seemed to her a terrible extravagance to have had the ices, particularly after having spent so much money as her aunt must have done for the clothes that morning. And then to ask for sweets! It seemed to her that May had no conscience.

And perhaps she was not very far wrong. But May, if she had no conscience, had a wonderful knack of smoothing the path of daily life for herself. Mrs. Stubbs demurred decidedly to buying sweets; but May gave a good reason for her demand.

"Oh, Ma, dear, do! Flossie 'll be as cross as two sticks at Sarah being out with you instead of her. And she's sure to ask if we had ices, and, you know we can't either of us tell a story about it--at least, I can't, and I don't think Sarah's at all the story-telling sort--are you, Sarah?"

"Oh no, indeed, Auntie, I'll never tell you a story," Sarah protested.

"And Flossie will go on anyhow, and taunt her; I know she will. She and Tom were at it last night--calling her Princess Sarah--her Royal Highness Princess Sarah," May went on--"didn't they, Sarah?"

"Never mind," said Sarah, trying to make light of it.

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Princess Sarah And Other Stories Part 5 summary

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