them. Becky had seen her stand and wait many a time before, and knew that in a few seconds she would uncover an enlightened, laughing face.
In a moment she did.
“There!” she cried. “It has come! I know now! I must look among the things in the old trunk I had when I was a princess.”
She flew to its corner and kneeled down. It had not been put in the attic for her benefit, but because there was no room for it elsewhere. Nothing had been left in it but rubbish. But she knew she should find something.
She thought of ghosts.
“Is it—something that will frighten me?” she asked timorously.
“Some people are afraid of them,” said Sara. “I was at first— but I am not now.”
“Was it—a ghost?” quaked Ermengarde.
“No,” said Sara, laughing. “It was my rat.”
Ermengarde made one bound, and landed in the middle