it spoke to her. The sparrows come at her call. The rat she has fed and tamed in her loneliness. The poor slave of the house comes to her for comfort. There is a little child who comes to her in secret; there is one older who worships her and would listen to her forever if she might. This I have seen when I have crept across the roof. By the mistress of the house—who is an evil woman—she is treated like a pariah; but she has the bearing of a child who is of the blood of kings!”
“You seem to know a great deal about her,” the secretary said.
have come, they have shown that I am NOT a nice child. I was afraid they would. Perhaps”—wrinkling her forehead wisely—“that is what they were sent for.”
“I don’t see any good in them,” said Ermengarde stoutly.
“Neither do I—to speak the truth,” admitted Sara, frankly. “But I suppose there MIGHT be