The sound in the hoarse,ravenous voice was awful.
"She is hungrier than I am,"she said to herself."She's starving."
But her hand trembled when she put down the fourth bun.
"I'm not starving,"she said--and she put down the fifth.
The little ravening London savage was still snatching and devouring when she turned away.She was too ravenous to give any thanks,even if she had ever been taught politeness--which she had not.
She was only a poor little wild animal.
"Good-bye,"said Sara.
When she reached the other side of the street she looked back.
The child had a bun in each hand and had stopped in the middle of a bite to watch her.Sara gave her a little nod,and the child,after another stare--a curious lingering stare--jerked her shaggy head in response,and until Sara was out of sight she did not take another bite or even finish the one she had begun.
At that moment the baker-woman looked out of her shop window.
"Well,I never!"she exclaimed."If that young un hasn't given her buns to a beggar child!It wasn't because she didn't want them,either.Well,well,she looked hungry enough.
I'd give something to know what she did it for."
She stood behind her window for a few moments and pondered.
Then her curiosity got the better of her.She went to the door and spoke to the beggar child.
"Who gave you those buns?"she asked her.The child nodded her head toward Sara's vanishing figure.
"What did she say?"inquired the woman.
"Axed me if I was 'ungry,"replied the hoarse voice.
"What did you say?"
"Said I was jist."
"And then she came in and got the buns,and gave them to you,did she?"
The child nodded.
"How many?"
"Five."
The woman thought it over.
"Left just one for herself,"she said in a low voice."And she could have eaten the whole six--I saw it in her eyes."
She looked after the little draggled far-away figure and felt more disturbed in her usually comfortable mind than she had felt for many a day.
"I wish she hadn't gone so quick,"she said."I'm blest if she shouldn't have had a dozen."Then she turned to the child.
"Are you hungry yet?"she said.
"I'm allus hungry,"was the answer,"but 't ain't as bad as it was."
"Come in here,"said the woman,and she held open the shop door.
The child got up and shuffled in.To be invited into a warm place full of bread seemed an incredible thing.She did not know what was going to happen.She did not care,even.
"Get yourself warm,"said the woman,pointing to a fire in the tiny back room."And look here;when you are hard up for a bit of bread,you can come in here and ask for it.I'm blest if I won't give it to you for that young one's sake."
Sara found some comfort in her remaining bun.At all events,it was very hot,and it was better than nothing.As she walked along she broke off small pieces and ate them slowly to make them last longer.
"Suppose it was a magic bun,"she said,"and a bite was as much as a whole dinner.I should be overeating myself if I went on like this."
It was dark when she reached the square where the Select Seminary was situated.The lights in the houses were all lighted.
The blinds were not yet drawn in the windows of the room where she nearly always caught glimpses of members of the Large Family.
Frequently at this hour she could see the gentleman she called Mr.Montmorency sitting in a big chair,with a small swarm round him,talking,laughing,perching on the arms of his seat or on his knees or leaning against them.This evening the swarm was about him,but he was not seated.On the contrary,there was a good deal of excitement going on.It was evident that a journey was to be taken,and it was Mr.Montmorency who was to take it.A brougham stood before the door,and a big portmanteau had been strapped upon it.
The children were dancing about,chattering and hanging on to their father.The pretty rosy mother was standing near him,talking as if she was asking final questions.Sara paused a moment to see the little ones lifted up and kissed and the bigger ones bent over and kissed also.
"I wonder if he will stay away long,"she thought."The portmanteau is rather big.Oh,dear,how they will miss him!I shall miss him myself--even though he doesn't know I am alive."
When the door opened she moved away--remembering the sixpence--but she saw the traveler come out and stand against the background of the warmly-lighted hall,the older children still hovering about him.
"Will Moscow be covered with snow?"said the little girl Janet.
"Will there be ice everywhere?"
"Shall you drive in a drosky?"cried another."Shall you see the Czar?"
"I will write and tell you all about it,"he answered,laughing."And I will send you pictures of muzhiks and things.Run into the house.
It is a hideous damp night.I would rather stay with you than go to Moscow.Good night!Good night,duckies!God bless you!"
And he ran down the steps and jumped into the brougham.
"If you find the little girl,give her our love,"shouted Guy Clarence,jumping up and down on the door mat.
Then they went in and shut the door.
"Did you see,"said Janet to Nora,as they went back to the room--"the little-girl-who-is-not-a-beggar was passing?She looked all cold and wet,and I saw her turn her head over her shoulder and look at us.
Mamma says her clothes always look as if they had been given her by someone who was quite rich--someone who only let her have them because they were too shabby to wear.The people at the school always send her out on errands on the horridest days and nights there are."
Sara crossed the square to Miss Minchin's area steps,feeling faint and shaky.
"I wonder who the little girl is,"she thought--"the little girl he is going to look for."
And she went down the area steps,lugging her basket and finding it very heavy indeed,as the father of the Large Family drove quickly on his way to the station to take the train which was to carry him to Moscow,where he was to make his best efforts to search for the lost little daughter of Captain Crewe.
