'
"'Indeed,' interrupted Uncle Peter, 'I have read receipts for the
salvation of the soul that sounded very much as if they came out of a
cookery-book.' And the wrinkles of his laugh went up into his night-cap.
Neither Chrissy nor I understood this at the time, but I have often
thought of it since.
"Chrissy went on:
"'I had finished washing up my dinner-things, and sat down for a few
minutes, for I was tired. I was staring into the fire, and thinking and
thinking how I should get away, and what I should do when I got out of the
house, and feeling as if the man and the woman were always prowling about
it, and watching me through the window, when suddenly I saw a little boy
in a corner of the kitchen, staring at me with great brown eyes. He was a
little boy, perhaps about six years old, with a pale face, and very
earnest look. I did not speak to him, but waited to see what he would do.
A few minutes passed, and I forgot him. But as I was wiping my eyes, which
would get wet sometimes, notwithstanding my good-fortune, he came up to
me, and said in a timid whisper,
"'Are you a princess?'
"'What makes you think that?' I said.
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