STORIES ***




Produced by Al Haines.




[Illustration: Cover]




[Illustration: "'Princess Sarah,' he shouted, 'Her Royal Highness
Princess Sarah of Nowhere.'"  (Page 41.)]




                             PRINCESS SARAH

                           AND OTHER STORIES


                                   BY

                          JOHN STRANGE WINTER



                               AUTHOR OF
            "BOOTLES' BABY" "MIGNON'S SECRET" "MY POOR DICK"
                    "HE WENT FOR A SOLDIER" ETC ETC



                                 LONDON
                        WARD, LOCK & CO LIMITED
                   WARWICK HOUSE SALISBURY SQUARE E C
                         NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE
                                  1897




                                Contents

Princess Sarah

                               CHAPTER I

ORPHANED

                               CHAPTER II

HER NEW-FOUND AUNT

                              CHAPTER III

SARAH'S FUTURE IS ARRANGED

                               CHAPTER IV

HER NEW HOME

                               CHAPTER V

A TASTE OF THE FUTURE

                               CHAPTER VI

THE AMIABLE FLOSSIE

                              CHAPTER VII

COUSINLY AMENITIES

                              CHAPTER VIII

FLOSSIE'S GRIEVANCES

                               CHAPTER IX

AN ASTUTE TELL-PIE

                               CHAPTER X

A PLEASANT RAILWAY JOURNEY

                               CHAPTER XI

AUNT GEORGE

                              CHAPTER XII

SARAH MAKES AN IMPRESSION

                              CHAPTER XIII

THE TURNING POINT OF HER LIFE

                              CHAPTER XIV

A BRILLIANT MARRIAGE

                               CHAPTER XV

A FAMILY CATASTROPHE

                              CHAPTER XVI

A CHANGE OF CIRCUMSTANCES

                              CHAPTER XVII

SARAH'S OPPORTUNITY



MISS MIGNON

BOY'S LOVE

YUM-YUM: A PUG

OUR ADA ELIZABETH

HALT!

THE LITTLE LADY WITH THE VOICE

JEWELS TO WEAR




                             Princess Sarah

      "Take this lesson to thy heart;
        That is best which lieth nearest."
          --Gasper Bacerra


                               CHAPTER I

                                ORPHANED


In a poor little street in a crowded city there stood a small house, not
alone, but in the middle of a row of other houses exactly like it.
There was a tiny bow window on the left of the door, and two very small
sash windows in the storey above; the frames were warped, and the paint,
like that of the door, was blistered and cracked in many places.  And
the doorstep looked as if it had been cleaned a week or so before with
whiting instead of pipe-clay, and evidently the person who had done it
had, doubtless with the very best intentions in the world, given the
lower part of the door a few daubs with the same cloth, which had not at
all improved its shabby surface.

Between the house and the pavement there was a small garden, a very
humble attempt at a garden, with a rockery in one corner and a raised
bed in the middle.

It was a noisy street, though it was not a thoroughfare, for on that
hot, sultry day the doors and windows were all open and the children
were all playing about pavements and road, caring little for the heat
and dust, screaming, laughing, shouting, crying, as children will,
except when they found themselves within reach of the house which I have
described; then their voices were hushed, their tones sobered; then they
stood to gaze up at the closed blinds which beat now and then against
the open windows, as if a door had been opened and allowed a draught of
air to sweep through the house; then one little maid of ten years old or
so lifted a warning finger to check a lesser child, upon whom the fear
and knowledge of death had not yet fallen.  "Hush--sh!  Don't make a
noise, Annie," she said.  "Mr. Gray is dead."

The younger child, Annie, ceased her laughter, turning from the closed
house to stare at two ladies who came slowly down the street, looking
from side to side as if they sought one of the houses in particular.

"This must be it," said one, as her eyes fell upon the closed blinds.

"Yes," returned the other; "that must be it."

So they passed in at the little gate and knocked softly at the shabby
door.

"Poor fellow!" said one, with a glance at the bit of garden before the
bow window, "_his_ doing, evidently; there's not another garden in the
street like it."

"No.  And what pains he must have taken with it.  Poor fellow!" echoed
the other.

There was a moment's scuffle within the house, the sound of
loudly-whispering voices; then a heavy footstep, and the door was opened
by a stout, elderly person in a shabby black gown and white apron--a
person who was unmistakably a nurse. She curtsied as she saw the ladies,
and the one who had spoken last addressed her.

"We heard early this morning.  I see the sad news is too true," she
began.

"Yes'm," shaking her head.  "He went off quite quiet about ten o'clock
last night.  Ah, I've seen a-many, but I never saw a more peaceful
end--never!"

The two ladies each made a murmur of sympathy.

"And the little girl?" said one of them.

"Well, mum, she do fret a good bit," replied the nurse pityingly.

"Poor little thing!  We have brought some fruit and some other little
things," said the lady, handing a basket to the nurse.

"It's real kind of you, mum!" the old woman cried.  "She'll be rare and
pleased, she will, poor little missy!  You see, mum, it's been a queer,
strange life for a child, for she's been everything to him, and she
never could go out and play in the street with the other children.  That
couldn't be, and it was hard for the little thing to see 'em and be shut
off from 'em all day as she was; and the master on that account used to
make hisself more to her, which will make it all the harder for her now,
poor fatherless, motherless lamb that she is!"

"Of course, of course.  Poor little maid!  And what will become of her,
do you think?"

"I can't say for certain, mum; but the mistress, she had relations, and
the master wrote to one of them on Thursday.  He was sore troubled about
little missy, was the master--aye, sore troubled. The letter was sent,
and an answer came this morning to say that one of missy's aunts was
coming to-day.  The vicar opened it."

"Oh, well, I'm glad somebody is coming to the poor child," said the lady
who had brought the basket of fruit.  "I hope it will be all right.  And
you will give her the things, nurse?" with a look at the basket.

"Oh, yes, mum," with a curtsey.

There was not only some fruit in the basket, but a pot of jam and a jar
of potted meat, a glass of jelly, some sponge cakes, and a packet of
sweeties, such as little folk love.

The old nurse carried them into the sitting-room and set them down on
the table before a little girl who was sitting beside it.

"See, missy, what a nice basket of good things Mrs. Tracy has brought
for you!" the old woman cried.  "Wasn't it kind of her?"

"Very kind," said the little girl, brightening up somewhat at the
unexpected kindness from one almost a stranger to her.

"Grapes, Miss Sarah, and peaches, and Orleans plums; and see--potted
meat!  Now how could she know you're so fond of potted meat?"

"I don't know, nurse; _he_ liked potted meat too, you know."

"Yes, dear, yes; but he's gone where he has all he's most fond of, you
know."

"Except me," murmured Sarah, under her breath.

"Ah, that's true, my lamb; but you mustn't repine.  Him as took the
master away so calm and peaceful last night knew just what was best to
do, and He'll do it, never fear!  It's hard to bear, my honey, and
sure," with a sigh, "no one knows better what bearing such is than old
nurse.  And--hark! to think of any one coming with a knock like that!
enough to waken the----"  But then she broke off short, and went to open
the door.




                               CHAPTER II

                           HER NEW-FOUND AUNT


A short, stout, well-dressed woman stood upon the door-step, and the
cabman was just hauling a box off the roof of his cab.

"Mr. Gray's 'ouse?" demanded the stout lady. "Ah, pore thing!  I see
it's all over.  Pore thing! Well, I'm sorry, of course, though I don