11 The Magic

CHAPTER 11 The Magic Sara did not know how long she had slept, but when she came to slowly the next morning, eyes still closed, she knew that she needed to sleep longer. Even Miss Minchin let her sleep an extra hour on Sundays. Or perhaps she was still sleeping— dreaming, really. How else could she feel so warm and comfortable? When she put out her hand, how else could she feel covered by a warm quilt? How else could she hear the

gentle crackling of a fire in her rusty old grate? A bit later, she opened her eyes. And like a miracle, the dream continued. Along with all of the things she had pretended—the thick, soft blue Indian rug, the soft sofa with cushions to curl up on, and a tiger-skin rug in front of the fire—was a small folding table. It was covered with a white cloth, topped with a small, piping hot feast of savory soups, sandwiches, toast, and muffins. How, she did not know, but somehow she was sleeping in a new bed, covered in warm, fluffy blankets. At the foot of the bed were a warm silk robe and a pair of quilted slippers. Best of all, in a pile by the chair near the fire were some lovely books. Looking all around, she could see rose- colored lamps, wall hangings and pictures, colorful rugs and cushions, flowers in pretty vases, and any number of other wonderful,

magical things. "Why does it not melt away?" she panted. "Oh, I never had such a dream before!" Springing out of bed, she ran around the room touching everything. She brought her hand as close as she could to the fire. "It's hot!" she cried, pulling back. She put on the robe and pressed the material to her cheek. "It's so warm and soft!" she cried. She tasted some of the lovely food that had been left for her on the table. "Delicious!" she cried. "And it's real, all of it! I am not dreaming!" Suddenly, she saw a little note resting upon the pile of books. "To the little girl in the attic," the note said, "from a friend." Reading those words, Sara did a strange thing. She put her face down on the page and burst into tears. "Somebody cares for me," she sobbed. "I do have a friend." Imagine, if you can, what the rest of the morning was like. Right away, Sara knocked

on the wall for Becky, and the two girls spent the next few hours sitting before the blazing fire. At first Becky was speechless from fear. But once Becky got over her own disbelief, they both gobbled up the food. Even more important, their hearts were fed by the magical kindness of Sara's secret friend. Somehow, their fear of Miss Minchin faded into the background. Sara decided that she would keep the wonders that had happened to them a secret, if such a thing were possible. Soon, of course, they would have to go downstairs to work, but that day both girls did so with courage. They had extra color in their cheeks and spring in their steps. Everyone at the school had heard about what happened the night before, so they all expected Sara to come down looking humbled and shamefaced. But instead, she seemed to float around looking even more

regal than usual. "She doesn't even look hungry," Lavinia whispered to Jessie. Lavinia knew about Sara's punishment and was not the least bit sorry to have told on her. "Perhaps she is just pretending she had a good breakfast!" Miss Minchin sternly warned Sara, "Remember that you are in disgrace. It is rude of you to go around looking like you had just come into a fortune!" The weather on this day was possibly even worse than it was the last time Sara had gone out to run errands—wetter, muddier, and colder. Her basket was heavier, and the cook was more testy. But somehow, today she could bear it all. Even if the magic was gone when she returned to her room that night, she thought, she would still always be grateful and know that it had saved her. When she pushed open the door to her room that night, she gasped. She shut the

door and, standing with her back to it, looked from side to side. Not only was the magic still there, but it had new life. A freshly built fire was blazing, even more merrily than before. More finery, pictures, and pillows filled the room. And best of all, a delicious dinner had been made, steamy hot, just waiting for her on the table. And all the dirty breakfast plates had been cleared away. When Becky came in, she started giggling like someone who was out of her mind. The two girls sat down to dinner like two princesses. From then on, every day Sara returned to her room, something new had been added. And when there was no more space left in Sara's room, the magic began to spill over into Becky's room. Sara said to herself, "Is this my attic room? And am I that same cold, raggedy, damp little girl? I must be living in a fairy story."