To everyone who has reviewed: Thank you so much! I get warm fuzzies checking my email every day and seeing more reviews! E.K.: As per your request, I've put an extra space between paragraphs. Hope it helps! Bobby M: Yes, I probably accidentally picked those details up from the 1986 Focus on the Family movie of this, which I love. I forget sometimes which details are from that movie and which are from the book. Disclaimer: A Little Princess belongs to F. H. Burnett, but Henry Eshton is MINE! ALL MINE! Mwa ha ha haaaaaa!

There was one aspect of being a servant that Sara found very interesting, and that was how the other servants always seemed to know everything about the households in the neighborhood. It was as if they had a secret society—in a way, they did. While servants worked, they gossiped, and Sara filled her imagination with the proceedings of her neighbors' lives. It was petty, and she felt that, but she was interested nonetheless.

"Have you seen Mr. Carrisford's young nephew, Mr. Eshton?" Henrietta said to Cook. Sara's ear perked up.

"Oh, yes. So handsome! And rich, as well."

"Really? He doesn't look that rich to me."

"He doesn't dress to his wealth," Cook said confidently. "He's make quite a catch for the social climbers."

"I heard he's been seen in the city with a girl lately," Henrietta said slyly. "They say she's dead common."

"He'll ruin his reputation if he isn't careful." Cook shook her head.

"He'll ruin her reputation, too," Henrietta added. "I wonder who she is?"

Sara felt her stomach drop.

"Are you alright, Miss?" Becky said. "You're white as a sheet!"

Sara caught a moment by herself in her cell that evening. She sat down on the red footstool and laid her head down on her knees.

She hadn't even thought of Henry's reputation. And she hadn't realized he was more than moderately wealthy. By continuing to see him, she would ruin both their reputations. Her pride couldn't take the shame. But more than that, her love for Henry couldn't take the disgrace she was bringing to him. He would have to stop seeing Henry. It was break her heart, but there it was.

The storyteller in her wanted to tell her this was romantic, but the princess in her just shook her head sadly.

When she woke up the next morning, the light seemed more dismal than usual. She couldn't remember for a moment why—and then it all crashed in on her. She had to stop seeing Henry—Mr. Eshton, she told herself. She stood up and the room tilted crazily so that she had to quickly sit down on her bed again. As she waited for her head to stop spinning, she realized that the room seemed colder today. She shivered. The movement gave her a twinge in her chest, and she began to cough.

It never rains but it pours, she thought lugubriously. I've caught something.

That wouldn't get her out of work, though. She trudged down the stairs to the kitchen and was immediately assigned the task of cleaning out the grates in the bedrooms, a job Sara hated.

At least they didn't send me to the shops, she thought gratefully. I couldn't bear to see H—Mr. Eshton—today.