"And you?"
"Your humble servant,"—bending.
"I shall soon find out."
"It is quite possible."
And then, with a hand on her escort's arm, she laughed, and walked (or should I say glided? It seems a sacrilege to say that so enchanting a creature walked) out of the conservatory, leaving me gazing ruefully and mournfully at the little white slipper in my hand.
Now, where in the world was Cinderella?
II
I thrust the slipper into the tail of my coat, and strolled over to the marble bench which partly encircled the fountain. The tinkle of the falling water made a pleasant sound. Ten years! I had been away ten years. How quickly youth vanishes down the glimmering track of time! Here I was at thirty, rather old, too, for that number; and here was that pretty girl of fourteen grown into womanhood, a womanhood that would have stirred the pulses of many a man less susceptible than myself. That she was unmarried somehow made me glad, though why I can not say, unless it be that vanity survives everything.
I had been violently in love with her; at that time she hadn't quite turned six. Then I had lorded it over her tender eighth year, and from the serene height of twenty I had looked down upon her fourteen in a fatherly, patronizing fashion. As I recalled her new glory the truth came upon me that she was like to pay me back with interest for all the snubs I had given her.