Her life was very lonely now. She saw Becky every day, of course, but they did not have much time for talking. The cook and the other servants were not friendly. Sometimes, at night, Ermengarde came up to Sara's room, but it was not easy for her to come often.

"Perhaps the Indian gentleman's servants all sleep downstairs," she thought sadly.

Every morning, when Sara gave the birds their bread, she looked across to the attic window next door. But nobody opened it. Nobody called out "Good morning!" across the roof, or gave Sara a friendly smile.

"Oh, you dear little thing!" cried Sara.

At once, the monkey jumped down and began to run round the room. Sara laughed. She got up on the table and looked out of her window, and at the next window she saw a face -- the smiling face of an Indian lascar.

Then one evening, Sara was in her attic when she heard a noise on the roof. She looked up -- and there at the open window was a small monkey.

"Oh," cried Sara, "have you got a monkey? He's in my room."

The lascar's name was Ram Dass, and yes, it was his monkey. He gave Sara a big smile.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "Can I come and get him?"

"Oh yes, please," said Sara. "I think he's afraid of me. And he runs so fast! But can you get across the roof?"

Yes, Ram Dass could, and a minute later he was in Sara's room. Soon the monkey jumped into his arms, and Ram Dass thanked Sara again and again. Then he went away, across the roof, back into the house next door.

The Indian gentleman thought that, too. He liked children very much, but he was a very unhappy man. Mr Carmichael was his friend, and he talked to him a lot. But they talked about only one thing.

Sara was pleased about that. "It's nice to see friendly faces when you are ill," she thought.

Sara went to the shops five or six times a day, and when she walked past the house next door, she often thought about the Indian gentleman. She felt sorry for him. He had no wife or family, and the doctor visited the house every day. Mr Carmichael the lawyer often visited, too, and sometimes the Carmichael children went with him.

"I must find the child," said the Indian gentleman (his name was Mr Carrisford). "I must find her and take care of her. But where is she? Here I am, with all this money from the diamond mines -- and half of it is Ralph Crewe's money. Oh, Carmichael, why did I leave my friend and run away when things looked bad? Why?"

Mr Carrisford looked into the fire. "Ram Dass tells me," he said, "about a little servant-girl next door. The monkey ran away, and Ram Dass went across the roof to get him back from her room. The poor child sleeps in a cold, dirty attic, and works about sixteen hours a day. Is Ralph's daughter living like that? I can't stop thinking about it."

"And it did kill poor Ralph," said Mr Carrisford. "He put all his money into the mines because I was his friend. But at first we didn't find any diamonds, and all Ralph's money was gone. I was afraid to tell him, so I ran away. And later, when we did find diamonds, Ralph was dead." He laughed, angrily. "What a brave friend I was!"

"But how?" said Mr Carrisford. He put his head in his hands. "I never saw her. I don't know her name! Ralph always called her his 'Little Missus'. We talked all the time about the mines. He never told me the name of her school. Her mother was French, so did he take her to a school in France? Or was it in England?"

"You ran away because you were ill with a fever," said Mr Carmichael. "It nearly killed you, remember?"

"It's not easy to be brave," Mr Carmichael said quietly, "when you're ill with a fever."

"We're going to find her one day," said Mr Carmichael.

"Well, we know there was a child at a school in Paris," said Mr Carmichael, "with the name of Carew or Crewe. Her father died suddenly, and a Russian family took her away with them, because she was a friend of their daughter. Perhaps this girl is Ralph Crewe's child. Next week I'm going to Moscow to look for her."

"I want to go with you, but I'm not well," said Mr Carrisford. "I must find her, Carmichael. I must. Every night, in my dreams, I see Ralph Crewe's face, and he says:'Tom, Tom, where is my Little Missus?' And I have no answer for him." Mr Carrisford took his friend's hand. "Help me to find her. Help me."

Winter came, with its short, dark days, and the attic rooms were very cold. There were no fires for servant girls, and often Sara and Becky could not sleep because of the cold. Sara was taller now, and her old black dress was very short. Her shoes were old, and she had no warm coat for the winter weather. She was thin, too. She did not get very much to eat, and she was always hungry.

She carried big baskets of shopping through the rain and the snow. One day she found a sixpence in the snow, and she bought some hot new bread with it. Then she saw a child by the door of the shop. The child had no shoes and no coat, and her thin face was blue with cold.

Miss Minchin did not like to hear this. "Don't speak to me like that!" she said. "I am kind to you, I'm giving you a home, but you never say 'thank you' to me."

"She is hungrier than I am," thought Sara. And she gave her hot new bread to the child.

When she got back to the school, Miss Minchin was angry. "Cook is waiting for you, Sara. Why are you late?"

"I can't walk quickly through the snow," said Sara. "My shoes are old, Miss Minchin, and my feet get very cold."

Sara looked at her. "You are not kind," she said quietly. "And this is not a home."

In the attic, Sara sat down on the chair by her table.

"Go to your room at once!" said Miss Minchin.

On the stairs Sara met Lavinia. Lavinia looked at her and gave a little laugh. "Oh, here's Princess Sara," she said, "in her old dress and her dirty shoes!"

"I must be brave," she whispered. "A princess is always brave, so I must be, too. But it's not easy." She put her head down on her arms. "Oh, Father, do you remember your Little Missus? Can you see me now?"

And in the house next door Mr Carrisford sat by a warm fire. Moscow is a long way from London, and he could only wait, but he thought about Ralph Crewe's child every day. He thought about other children, too.

"Ram Dass," he said. "How is that poor little servant-girl next door? Can we do something for her?"

"I see her in the street every day," said Ram Dass. "In the rain, in the snow. She looks thin and hungry. But we can help her. I can easily get in through her attic window. Listen…" And he talked for some minutes.

Mr Carrisford smiled. "Yes," he said to Ram Dass. "Yes, I like it. Let's do it."