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"
I
want
to
go
there
,
"
she
cried
.
"
I
--
have
n't
any
mamma
in
this
school
.
"
Sara
saw
the
danger
signal
,
and
came
out
of
her
dream
.
She
took
hold
of
the
chubby
hand
and
pulled
her
close
to
her
side
with
a
coaxing
little
laugh
.
"
I
will
be
your
mamma
,
"
she
said
.
"
We
will
play
that
you
are
my
little
girl
.
And
Emily
shall
be
your
sister
.
"
Lottie
's
dimples
all
began
to
show
themselves
.
"
Shall
she
?
"
she
said
.
"
Yes
,
"
answered
Sara
,
jumping
to
her
feet
.
"
Let
us
go
and
tell
her
.
And
then
I
will
wash
your
face
and
brush
your
hair
.
"
To
which
Lottie
agreed
quite
cheerfully
,
and
trotted
out
of
the
room
and
upstairs
with
her
,
without
seeming
even
to
remember
that
the
whole
of
the
last
hour
's
tragedy
had
been
caused
by
the
fact
that
she
had
refused
to
be
washed
and
brushed
for
lunch
and
Miss
Minchin
had
been
called
in
to
use
her
majestic
authority
.
And
from
that
time
Sara
was
an
adopted
mother
.
Of
course
the
greatest
power
Sara
possessed
and
the
one
which
gained
her
even
more
followers
than
her
luxuries
and
the
fact
that
she
was
"
the
show
pupil
,
"
the
power
that
Lavinia
and
certain
other
girls
were
most
envious
of
,
and
at
the
same
time
most
fascinated
by
in
spite
of
themselves
,
was
her
power
of
telling
stories
and
of
making
everything
she
talked
about
seem
like
a
story
,
whether
it
was
one
or
not
.
Anyone
who
has
been
at
school
with
a
teller
of
stories
knows
what
the
wonder
means
--
how
he
or
she
is
followed
about
and
besought
in
a
whisper
to
relate
romances
;
how
groups
gather
round
and
hang
on
the
outskirts
of
the
favored
party
in
the
hope
of
being
allowed
to
join
in
and
listen
.
Sara
not
only
could
tell
stories
,
but
she
adored
telling
them
.
When
she
sat
or
stood
in
the
midst
of
a
circle
and
began
to
invent
wonderful
things
,
her
green
eyes
grew
big
and
shining
,
her
cheeks
flushed
,
and
,
without
knowing
that
she
was
doing
it
,
she
began
to
act
and
made
what
she
told
lovely
or
alarming
by
the
raising
or
dropping
of
her
voice
,
the
bend
and
sway
of
her
slim
body
,
and
the
dramatic
movement
of
her
hands
.
She
forgot
that
she
was
talking
to
listening
children
;
she
saw
and
lived
with
the
fairy
folk
,
or
the
kings
and
queens
and
beautiful
ladies
,
whose
adventures
she
was
narrating
.
Sometimes
when
she
had
finished
her
story
,
she
was
quite
out
of
breath
with
excitement
,
and
would
lay
her
hand
on
her
thin
,
little
,
quick-rising
chest
,
and
half
laugh
as
if
at
herself
.
