That night Sara and Becky ate supper together.
Sara stared at the fire for a long time, looking thoughtful.
"Are you making up a story?" asked Becky.
"No, I'm thinking about the person who has done all this."
Sara gestured around the room.
"Perhaps he wants to keep his identity secret.
But I do want him to know how happy he's made me."
Suddenly she noticed something new in her room.
It was a box filled with notepaper, envelopes, pen, and ink.
"Oh!" Sara exclaimed.
"Why didn't I think of this earlier? I can write a thank-you note!"
And she did just that. The next morning she left the note on her table.
That evening it was gone.
"He found it!" Sara said to Becky.
Sara felt happy that she'd written to her mysterious friend.
She'd been able to tell him how thankful she was, and how grateful Becky was too.
That night after supper she settled down to read one of her new books to Becky.
Suddenly they both heard something.
"What's that noise?" asked Becky.
Sara heard it again—a small, scratching sound at the skylight.
Sara opened the skylight. It was cold and snowing outside.
"It sounds like a cat trying to get in," she said.
It had been snowing all day, and now, crouched in the snow, was a tiny quivering creature.
"Oh, look!" Sara cried. "It's the monkey again."
Becky ran over. "Are you going to let him in, miss?"
"Yes," said Sara happily. "Come here, little fellow. I won't hurt you."
She put out a hand, and the monkey leaped into her arms.
Sara hugged the small creature.
"Nice monkey," she said, kissing its odd little head.
"I do love animals, Becky. I'll let it sleep with me tonight.
Then I'll return it to the sick gentleman tomorrow."
Sara made a little nest for the monkey, and it curled up like a baby and went to sleep.
The next afternoon Mr. Carrisford had visitors.
Three Carmichael children—Janet, Nora, and Donald—were sitting with him.
They were trying to cheer him up.
Their father was supposed to return from Russia that afternoon.
Mr. Carrisford was very anxious for Mr. Carmichael to return.
"Let's talk about the lost girl," Janet said.
"Is it true?" Nora asked.
"Her father gave all his money to a friend to put into diamond mines?
Then the friend ran away because he thought he'd lost the money?"
"But he didn't really lose it," said Janet. "I feel sorry for the friend."
"Thank you, Janet," said Mr. Carrisford. "You're very kind."
Donald was making a lot of noise.
Janet scolded him gently.
"When you come to cheer up an ill person, Donald, you should talk quietly."
"I'm going to be quiet!" Donald shouted. "We'll all be as quiet as mice!"
"Mice don't sound like that," Janet said.
"It's fine," Mr. Carrisford reassured her.
"It keeps me from thinking too much."
"Did you hear about the Little Girl Who Is Not a Beggar?" Donald was talking loudly again.
"She has new clothes and—"
"I hear a cab stopping!" said Janet. "It must be Papa!"
They ran to the windows to look outside.
"Yes, it's Papa," said Donald. "But . . . there's no little girl with him."
The three children ran to the door to greet their father.
He told them to play with Ram Dass while he talked to Mr. Carrisford.
Mr. Carmichael entered the sitting room.
Mr. Carrisford tried to stand up, but he was too weak.
He slumped in his chair.
"Do you have news of the child adopted by the Russian couple?" he asked.
"Yes," Mr. Carmichael began. "She's not the girl we're looking for.
She's much younger than Captain Crewe's daughter. Her name is Emily Carew."
When he heard this news, Mr. Carrisford looked miserable.
"Don't worry. We'll find the girl you're looking for."
Mr. Carmichael took a seat. "Perhaps we should look in London.
There are plenty of boarding schools here."
"In fact, there's one right next door," Mr. Carrisford said.
"Remember the poor servant girl Ram Dass told us about?
While you've been away, we've been helping her."
Just then Ram Dass entered the room.
"Sir," he said. "The girl from next door is here with the monkey."
"I'd like to meet her," said Mr. Carrisford. "Bring her in."
Sara came into the room carrying the monkey. "Hello," she said cheerfully.
"Here's your monkey. It escaped again."
Then she said a few words to Ram Dass in his native language.
Mr. Carrisford and Mr. Carmichael looked at each other.
"How do you know that language?" asked Mr. Carmichael.
"Oh, I was born in India."
Mr. Carrisford sat up so suddenly that he startled Sara.