On a gloomy winter day, thick yellow fog hung heavily over the streets of London. It was like night, people lit up lights, gas lights flickered in shop windows, and a taxi was driving slowly on the street. The eccentric little girl sat in the car with her father. She sat with her feet curled up, leaning against her father, and was held in his arms by her father. She stared at the passing pedestrians outside the car window with her big eyes, and her strange eyes were full of youthful and mature worries. She was still young, and people could not expect to see such eyes on her small face.Even for a child of twelve, such eyes looked old-fashioned, and Sarah Crewe was only seven!But, in fact, she was always dreaming and thinking about some weird things, and she didn't know when she didn't think about adults and the world they belonged to.She felt as if she had lived a long, long time.

At this moment she was reminiscing about her recent voyage with her father, Captain Crewe, all the way from Bombay.She thought of the great ship, and the silent Indian sailors on it, and the children playing on the hot deck, and the wives of the young officers who used to tease her and laugh at what she said. She was mainly thinking: How strange, a person seems to be under the scorching sun of India just now, and in a blink of an eye, he is in the middle of the ocean, and not long after that, he is riding in this novel carriage, driving on these novel streets, where there is nothing to do during the day. as dark as night.Puzzled by this, she drew closer to her father.

"Daddy," she said mysteriously, in a voice almost whispering, "Daddy." "What's the matter, honey?" replied Captain Crewe, looking down at her face, and holding her tighter. "What is Sarah thinking?" "Is this the place?" Sara whispered, snuggling closer. "Really, Dad?" "Yes, little Sara, that's it, we're finally here." Even though she was only seven years old, she sensed the sentimentality of his words. She felt as though it had been years since her father had prepared her mentally for "the place" (as she always called the place she was going to be).Sarah's mother died as soon as she was born, so she doesn't know anything about her mother and doesn't miss her.Her young, handsome, wealthy, dear father seemed to be the only relative in the world.They often play together and have a deep affection for each other.She knew he was rich because she had heard people say it when they thought she wasn't listening, and she had heard them say that she too would be rich when she grew up.She didn't know what being rich meant all the time—lived in a nice bungalow with a verandah, was used to seeing the many servants saluting her, calling her "Miss, you," and doing everything by herself. Follow her temper.She had toys and pets and an Indian nanny who adored her, and it dawned on her that rich people had these things.But that's all she knew.

In the course of her short life, there was only one worrying thing, and that was that one day she would be sent to "the place".The climate in India is so harsh for children that they are sent elsewhere whenever possible - usually to England to attend school.She had seen other children leave, heard their parents talk about the letters they had received.She had known for a long time that she too would have to go away, and although her father's tales of the voyages and the new country had fascinated her sometimes, it troubled her to think that he would not be with her. "Can't you go to that place with me, Dad?" she had said when she was five years old. "Can't you go to school too? I'll help you with your homework."

"You needn't stay there long, though, little Sara," he always said. "You're going to live in a nice house, and there'll be lots of little girls there, and you'll play together, and I'll send you lots of books, and you'll grow up so fast, you'll be as big as you are in about a year." Big and smart to come back and take care of Dad." She likes to think that one day she'll be able to housekeeper for Dad, drive out with him, sit at the head of his table at dinner parties, talk to him, read his books—it'll be the thing she loves most in the world Well, if she had to get out of here and go to "the place" in England to get what she wanted, she was determined to go.She didn't care much about the company of other girls, as long as she had plenty of books, she was happy.She loved books more than anything else, and in fact she was always making up beautiful stories, which she told herself, and sometimes to her father, who loved them as much as she did.

"Well, papa," she said softly, "now that we're here, I think we'll have to leave it to our fate." He kissed her and laughed at her for speaking so old-fashioned.To tell the truth, he himself was not at all resigned to fate, but he knew that he must keep his mouth shut about it.His strange little Sara had always been his good company, and how he felt when he went back to India alone, and walked into the bungalow, knowing that he couldn't expect to see the little person who came up to him in the white dress. So lonely.Thinking of this, he hugged his daughter tightly in his arms. At this time, the carriage drove into a large desolate yard, where a large house stood, and this was their destination.

It was a large, dark brick house, exactly like the ones on the two wings, but upon its front door there was a plaque in shiny brass with these words carved in black: Ms. Min Chin Senior Girls Nursing Home "Here we are, Sarah," said Captain Crewe, trying to sound as cheerful as possible, and carried her out of the car, up the steps, and rang the doorbell.It often occurred to Sarah afterwards that the house was exactly like Miss Minchin herself.It's stately and well furnished, but there's nothing in it that isn't grotesque, say the armchairs, which seem to have a hard bone in them, and everything in the hall is hard and polished, even in the corners. The red frame of the round face of the grandfather clock also looked as if it had been strictly varnished.The living room into which they were both led was carpeted in a checkered pattern, with square chairs, and a heavy marble clock on a heavy marble mantelpiece.

Sarah sat down in one of the many stiff mahogany chairs and glanced around with her customary quick eyes. "I don't like it here, Dad," she said. "But, dare I say, soldiers - even the brave ones - don't really like going to war" Captain Crewe immediately laughed.He was young, playful, and never tired of listening to Sara's eccentricities. "Oh, little Sara," he said, "what shall I do if no one tells me such serious things in the future?"No one else can be as serious as you. " "But why do serious things make you laugh so much?" Sarah wanted to ask.

"Because you're so funny when you talk," he replied, laughing even harder.Suddenly, he took her into his arms with both arms, and kissed her vigorously, the laughter stopped, and there seemed to be tears in his eyes. At this moment Miss Minchin entered the room.She resembled her house, Sarah thought: tall, dark, imposing, and grotesque.She has fish-like eyes wide open, cold and lifeless, with a charming but indifferent smile.As soon as she saw Sarah and Captain Crewe, she grinned widely and smiled all over her face.She had heard many good things about this young soldier, and that was from the recommender, the lady.In those cases, she learned that he was a rich dad who was willing to spend a lot of money on his young daughter.

"It's a great honor to take care of such a beautiful and promising child, Captain Crewe," she said, taking Sarah's hand and fondling it. "Mrs. Meredith told me she was so bright that any child who was bright would be a treasure in a garden like ours." Sarah stood gazing into Miss Minchin's face, dreaming as usual. "Why does she call me a beautiful child?" she thought to herself. "I'm not beautiful at all. Colonel Grange's youngest daughter, Isobel, is beautiful! She has dimples, a rose-colored face, and long golden hair. I have black hair and green eyes, and besides , I'm a skinny kid, and I'm not beautiful at all. I'm one of the ugliest middle kids I've ever seen. Yes, she's starting to lie."

But Sara was wrong to think she was an ugly child.She was very different from Isobel, the beauty of the group, but she had her own unique charm.She was slender and curvaceous, tall for her age, with a warm and charming little face.Thick black hair, curly only at the ends, gray eyes with a greenish tinge, yes, but they were amazingly big eyes with long black eyelashes, although she didn't like the color of her own eyes, many others did .Even so, she still firmly believed that she was an ugly little girl.He was completely indifferent to Ms. Minchin's flattery. "I'd be lying if I said she was beautiful," thought Sarah, "and I should know I was lying. I believe I am as ugly as she is—though I have my own ways of being ugly, but she said that And why?" After knowing Ms. Minchin for a long time, she didn't know why Ms. Minchin said that. She found that Ms. Minchin said the same flattering words to every parent who sent their children to school. Sarah stood close to her father and listened to his conversation with Ms. Minchin.She had been brought to this institution because Mrs. Meredith's two young daughters had been educated there, and Captain Crewe valued her experience.Sara will be a so-called "privileged boarder" with even more special treatment than the usual privileged boarder.She would have a beautiful bedroom and sitting room of her own, a pony and a carriage, and a maid instead of a nurse in India. "I'm not at all worried about her education," Captain Crewe patted.Sara's hand said with a laugh. "The hard thing is not to let her learn too much, too quickly. She's always sitting with her little nose buried in the books. She's not reading, Ms. Minchin, but she's gobbling like a little wolf." Not like a little girl. She's always hungry for new books to devour, and she wants books for grown-ups -- deep, tome, thick -- in French, German, and English. Yes--history, biographies, poetry anthologies, books of all kinds. If she reads too much, drag her away. Send her to ride the streets on a pony, or go out and buy a new one. Dolls. She should play with dolls more." "Dad," said Sara, "you know, if I went down the street every few days and bought a new doll, I'd have so many I couldn't love it. Dolls are supposed to be close friends. Emily would Became my close friend." Captain Crewe and Ms. Minchin looked at each other. "Who's Emily," pressed Ms. Minchin. "Tell her, Sarah," said Captain Crewe, laughing. There was a solemn, gentle look in Sarah's green-gray eyes as she answered. "She's a doll and I haven't got her yet," she said. "She's a doll, and papa is going to buy it for me. We're going out together to find her. I've named her Emily. She's going to be my friend when papa is gone. I'm going to be with her Talk about dad." Ms. Minchin's smirk all over her face became more charming indeed. "What a unique child!" she said. "What a sweet little chap!" "Yes," said Captain Crewe, drawing Sarah close to him, "she's a sweet little chap. Take good care of her for me, Ms. Minchin." Sara stayed with her father in the hotel for a few days, in fact until he sailed back to India.Together they visited many great stores and bought many things.They did buy much more than Sarah actually needed, but Captain Crewe was a rash, innocent young man who let the little girl have what he liked and what he praised himself, and that was it. They bought a lot of clothes, too luxurious for a seven-year-old.Among them were velvet dresses, adorned with precious furs, lace and embroidered dresses, and hats with large soft ostrich feathers, ermine coats and muffs, boxes and boxes of mittens, handkerchiefs , silk stockings, bought so much that the polite young shopgirls behind the counter whispered to each other: This strange little girl with big serious eyes must be at least some foreign princess-perhaps The youngest daughter of an Indian lord. They finally found Emily after visiting many toy stores and looking at countless dolls. "I wanted her to look like she wasn't a doll," Sarah said. "I want her to look like she's listening to what I'm saying to her. The fault of dolls, Daddy," she said, tilting her head in thought, "the fault of dolls is that they never seem to listen." Many smaller dolls, black-eyed, blue-eyed, brown-haired, blond-braided, with and without clothes. "You know," Sara said, as the father and daughter looked at a naked doll, "if I find her and she's naked, we can take her to a dressmaker and have her dress It fits your body. Try it on on the spot and it will fit you better." After much disappointment, father and daughter decided to browse the shop windows as they walked, letting the carriage follow.They passed two or three shops without even going in.They were approaching a store that wasn't really that big when Sarah jumped up and grabbed her father by the arm. "Daddy, Papa!" she cried. "There's Emily!" There was a flush in her face, and there was an expression in her green-gray eyes, as if she had just recognized a close and beloved friend. "She was really waiting for us!" she said. "Let's go in and see her." "Ah!" said Captain Crewe, "I think we ought to be introduced." "You have to introduce me, and then I'll introduce you," Sara said. "But I recognized her as soon as I saw her - so, presumably she knew me too." Maybe Emily knew Sarah long ago.There was indeed a spiritual look in Emily's eyes when Sara took her in her arms.She was a big doll, but not too big to carry; she had naturally curly, golden-brown hair that hung down like a drapery, and her eyes were deep-set, clear, gray-blue, with soft, thick lashes that were real and not painted on. "Of course," said Sara, putting her on her lap, and looking into her face, "of course, Daddy, this is Emily." So bought Emily, actually took her to a children's clothing store, had her measured and ordered a large collection of clothes, as luxurious as Sarah's.She also has lace dresses, velvet and muslin dresses. Dresses, hats, and coats, and fine underclothes trimmed with lace, gloves, handkerchiefs, furs, and the like. "I like how she always looks like a kid with a good mother," Sara said. "I am her mother, though I want her to be my companion." Captain Crewe should have been really happy about this purchase, but a sad thought kept tugging at his heartstrings.That said he was about to break up with his beloved quirky little friend. At midnight that night he walked over from the bed and stood looking down at Sarah, who was asleep, with Emily in her arms.Her dark hair covered the pillow and mingled with Emily's golden-brown hair, and both wore ruffled nightgowns, and both had long, curled eyelashes that fell on their cheeks.Emily looked like a real child, and Captain Crewe was delighted to have her.He sighed deeply, twirled his mustache, and showed a childlike expression. "Hi ho, little Sara!" he said to himself. "I'm sure you don't know how much your dad will miss you." The next day he took her to Miss Minchin and left her.In the morning he was to leave by boat.He explained to Miss Minchin that his solicitors, Mr. Barrow and Skipworth, were in charge of his affairs in England, and that they could be consulted if necessary, and that Sarah's fees would be paid according to the bill she sent. paid for.He would write to Sarah twice a week, and give her whatever she pleased. "She's a sensible little guy, and she never asks for things that aren't safe for her," he said. Then he and Sarah went to her little sitting room to say good-bye.Sarah sat on his lap, holding the lapel of his coat with her small hands, and gazed into his face for a long time. "Are you impressing me, little Sara?" he said, stroking her hair. "No," she replied, "I have you in my heart. You are in my heart." They embraced and kissed as if they would never let go of each other. Sarah was sitting on the floor of her living room with her chin resting on her hands when the cab pulled away from the door, and followed the cab with her eyes until it rounded the corner of the yard.Emily sat beside her and also watched the carriage leave.When Miss Minchin sent her sister, Miss Amelia, to see what the boy was doing, she found that the door could not be opened. "I've locked the door," came the poor little voice from inside the room, very polite but a little out of breath. "I want to be alone, if I can." Miss Amelia was a dumpy fellow who was in awe of her sister.She was indeed the better tempered of the sisters, and she never disobeyed Ms. Minchin.She went back downstairs, looking a little panicked. "I've never seen such a strange, mature child, sister," she said. "She locked herself in the house and didn't move at all." "That's better than kicking and shouting like some kids do," replied Ms. Minchin. "I thought a spoiled kid like her would turn the whole house upside down. If there's ever a kid who gets her own way no matter what, she is." "I just opened her box and was packing her things," said Miss Amelia. "I've never seen anything like it—the coat was trimmed with sable and white melted leather, and the underwear was trimmed with real French Valencienne lace. You've seen some of her clothes. What do you think?" "I think those are downright absurd," replied Miss Minchin sharply, "but when we take the schoolboys to church on Sunday, they will look good at the front of the line. She has everything Like she was a little princess." And up there in the locked room, Sarah and Emily sat on the floor, staring at the corner where the carriage disappeared, while Captain Crewe looked back, waving and kissing His own hand was so sad that it seemed that he couldn't bear to stop.