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.

"'You have got such white hands,' he answered.

"'No, I am not a princess,' I said.

"'Aren't you Cinderella?'

"'No, my darling,' I replied; 'but something like her; for they have
stolen me away from home and brought me here. I wish I could get away.'

"'And here I confess I burst into a down right fit of crying.