when she was so gay and had everything grand. 
I like her best then.  Those howling mobs of
people did not frighten her.  She was stronger
than they were even when they cut her head off."

Once when such thoughts were passing through
her mind the look in her eyes so enraged Miss
Minchin that she flew at Sara and boxed her ears.

Sara awakened from her dream, started a little,
and then broke into a laugh.

"What are you laughing at, you bold, impudent child!"
exclaimed Miss Minchin.

It took Sara a few seconds to remember she was
a princess.  Her cheeks were red and smarting
from the blows she had received.

"I was thinking," she said.

"Beg my pardon immediately," said Miss Minchin.

"I will beg your pardon for laughing, if it was
rude," said Sara; "but I won't beg your pardon
for thinking."

"What were you thinking?" demanded Miss Minchin. 
"How dare you think?  What were you thinking?

This occurred in the school-room, and all the
girls looked up from their books to listen. 
It always interested them when Miss Minchin flew at
Sara, because Sara always said something queer,
and never seemed in the least frightened.  She was
not in the least frightened now, though her
boxed ears were scarlet, and her eyes were as
bright as stars.

"I was thinking," she answered gravely and
quite politely, "that you did not know what you
were doing."

"That I did not know what I was doing!" 
Miss Minchin fairly gasped.

"Yes," said Sara, "and I was thinking what
would happen, if I were a princess and you boxed
my ears--what I should do to you.  And I was
thinking that if I were one, you would never dare
to do it, whatever I said or did.  And I was
thinking how surprised and frightened you would
be if you suddenly found out--"

She had the imagined picture so clearly before her eyes,
that she spoke in a manner which had an effect even
on Miss Minchin.  It almost seemed for the moment
to her narrow, unimaginative mind that there must
be some real power behind this candid daring.

"What!" she exclaimed, "found out what?"

"That I really was a princess," said Sara, "and
could do anything--anything I liked."

"Go to your room," cried Miss Minchin breathlessly,
this instant.  Leave the school-room.  Attend to your
lessons, young ladies."

Sara made a little bow.

"Excuse me for laughing, if it was impolite,"
she said, and walked out of the room, leaving
Miss Minchin in a rage and the girls whispering
over their books.

"I shouldn't be at all surprised if she did
turn out to be something," said one of them. 
"Suppose she should!"

That very afternoon Sara had an opportunity
of proving to herself whether she was really a
princess or not.  It was a dreadful afternoon. 
For several days it had rained continuously, the
streets were chilly and sloppy; there was mud
everywhere--sticky London mud--and over
everything a pall of fog and drizzle.  Of course
there were several long and tiresome errands to
be done,--there always were on days like this,--
and Sara was sent out again and again, until her
shabby clothes were damp through.  The absurd
old feathers on her forlorn hat were more draggled
and absurd than ever, and her down-trodden shoes
were so wet they could not hold any more water. 
Added to this, she had been deprived of her dinner,
because Miss Minchin wished to punish her.  She was
very hungry.  She was so cold and hungry and tired
that her little face had a pinched look, and now
and then some kind-hearted person passing her in
the crowded street glanced at her with sympathy.