Ermengarde looked at her. "Oh, Sara!" she cried. "Are you ill? Your face is white, and you look so tired!"

"It was a hard day, Ermie," said Sara. She sat down. "Miss Minchin was angry with Cook. Then Cook was angry with us. Becky and I had no dinner and no tea."

"Does that happen often?" said Ermengarde unhappily. "You never told me. Are you -- are you hungry now?"

Sara looked at her. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I am. I would like to eat that table. I would like to eat you."

One night, a week later, Ermengarde got quietly out of bed and went upstairs to the attic. Sara was not there, so Ermengarde sat on the bed and waited. At ten o'clock Sara came slowly up the stairs and into the room.

Ermengarde jumped up. "Sara," she cried. "I had a box of things from home today. There's a big cake in it. I'm going to get it -- now! You and Becky can eat it all!"

Soon, Ermengarde was back. The three girls sat on Sara's bed, and there were some happy smiles when Ermengarde opened her box and took out the cake.

"Oh, Miss, look at that!" said Becky.

Ermengarde gave Sara and Becky some cake, and they began to eat. Suddenly, they stopped. There was a noise of feet on the stairs. They listened.

"You are kind, Ermie," said Sara. She laughed. "It's magic, you know. When things are very bad, something nice always happens. Here we are, having a party!"

"Oh no!" whispered Becky. "It's -- it's Miss Minchin!"

Then the door opened, and Miss Minchin came in.

"Yes," said Sara. Her face was white again.

"Oh, please, Miss Minchin!" cried Ermengarde. "It was my cake, from home. We're only having a party."

"So, Lavinia was right," she said angrily. "Tea with Princess Sara! Becky, get back to your attic at once!"

"Go back to your room, Ermengarde," Miss Minchin said coldly, "and take these things with you. And tomorrow" -- she looked at Sara -- "there's no breakfast, no dinner, and no tea for you. Remember that!"

Soon the attics were quiet again. Tired and hungry, the two servant-girls went to sleep. But after an hour or two Sara opened her eyes. Was it a noise from the window perhaps?

Sara ran to Becky's room. "Becky," she whispered. "Come quickly. The magic is here again. Come and look."

"Something is different," Sara whispered. "What is it?" She sat up in bed and looked round the room. She looked again and again, and her eyes were very big.

The room was different -- very different. There was a wonderful hot fire. There were new, warm blankets on her bed, and beautiful pictures on the walls.

There was a red cloth on the table, and cups and plates. There was hot tea, and wonderful things to eat -- hot meat pies and sandwiches and cake, oranges and apples.

Sara slowly got out of bed. "Is this a dream?" she said. "Where did all these things come from?" She put out her hand to the fire. "No, it's not a dream. The fire is hot -- I can feel it. And oh! Look at the table!"

When Becky saw the room, she could not speak at first. Then she said, "Oh, Miss! What is it? How did all these things get here?"

"I don't know," said Sara. "It's magic. At first I thought it was a dream, but it isn't. Look -- these pies are hot. Let's eat them. Hot meat pies aren't a dream!"

They sat down by the fire, and ate and drank.

She ran to look at them, and opened the top book. "There's some writing here! Listen. It says, 'To the little girl in the attic. From a friend.' Oh, Becky!" Sara closed the book and looked up. "I have a friend, Becky," she said slowly. "Someone is my friend."

The next morning Becky met Sara in the kitchen.

"Oh, those pies were good, Miss!" Becky said. "And the tea and the cake. I don't understand magic, but I like it!"

Sara looked round the room. "Oh, Becky, look! There are some books, too. I didn't see them before."

"Oh, Miss," she whispered. "Was the magic there this morning? Or did it go away in the night?"

Miss Minchin could not understand it. When Sara came into the schoolroom, she looked happy and well. Miss Minchin wanted to see a white, unhappy face, and eyes red from crying. "How can that child smile?" she thought angrily. But of course, she did not know about the magic.

"No, it's still there," Sara whispered back. "I ate some cold meat pie for breakfast. And the fire was still warm!"

Becky laughed happily. "Oh my! Oh my!" she said.

And the magic did not go away. Every evening, when Sara went up to bed, she found new things in the attic. There were more warm blankets, for her and for Becky. There were pictures on the walls; there were books, new shoes, and a winter coat. And best of all, there was always a fire, and a wonderful hot dinner on the table.

They began to look at one of the new books, and then Becky looked up.

"But where does it all come from?" Becky said one night when they sat by the fire. "Who does it, Miss?"

Becky was very interested. "I never saw a monkey before," she said. "He's not very beautiful, Miss! What are you going to do with him?"

"Oh, Miss," she whispered. "There's something at the window. What is it?"

Sara got up to look. "It's the monkey!" she said. "The monkey from next door." She opened the window, and the monkey jumped down into her arms. "Oh, you poor little thing," Sara said. "You're so cold!"

"A friend does it," Sara said. "A kind, wonderful friend. But he doesn't want us to know his name."

"It's very late now," said Sara. "He can stay in my room tonight, and I can take him home in the morning."