Elizabeth

The fact was that Miss Minchin's pupils were a set of dull, matter-of-fact young pupils.

They were accustomed to being rich and comfortable, and as Sarah's frocks grew shorter and shabbier and queerer looking, and it became an established fact that she wore shoes with holes in them, and was sent out to buy groceries and carry them through the streets in a basket on her arm when the cook wanted them in a hurry.

They felt rather as if, when they spoke to her, they were addressing an under-servant.

To think that she was the girl with the diamond mines, Lavinia commented.

She does look an object, and she's queerer than ever.

I am, said Sarah promptly when she heard of this.

The truth was that she had saved herself annoyance several times by keeping her eye on Lavinia, who was quite ready to make mischief and would have been rather pleased to have made it for the ex-show pupil.

Sarah never made any mischief herself or interfered with anyone.

She worked like a drudge.

She tramped through the wet streets, carrying parcels and baskets.

She labored with the childish inattention of the little one's French lessons.

As she became shabbier and more forlorn-looking, she was told that she had better take her meals downstairs instead.

She was treated as if she was nobody's concern, and her heart grew proud and sore.

But she never told anyone what she felt.

Soldiers don't complain, she would say between her small, shut teeth.

I'm not going to do it.

But there were hours when her child heart might almost have broken with loneliness, but for three people.

The first it must be owned was Becky.

Just Becky.

Throughout all that first night spent in the garret, she had felt a vague comfort in knowing that on the other side of the wall, in which the rats scuffled and squeaked, there was another young human creature.