“Now, my child, you can go to the ball,” said the godmother. “But remember this: My fairy charm can only last till twelve o’clock. At the last stroke of twelve these fine clothes will change into rags; the coach will again become a pumpkin, the horses mice, and the coachman and footman a rat and lizards as they were before; so by twelve you must be home again.”
Cinderella promised to obey, and then she stepped into the coach and rolled away to the ball.
When she reached the palace the music was sounding and the Prince was about to choose a partner for the dance. All the ladies waited anxiously, each hoping she would be the one to be chosen. Many beauties were there, and it was hard to say which was the loveliest. But when Cinderella entered the room no one had eyes for anyone but her. She was far fairer than the fairest, as the crescent moon is lovelier than the stars.
The Prince came to her and took her by the hand. “You shall be my partner in the dance,” said he, “for never have I seen anyone as fair as you.”
From then on the Prince would dance with no one but Cinderella, and none could wonder nor blame him, for she was so beautiful that the heart melted at sight of her.
The Prince begged her to tell him her name and whence she came, but she would not, and when the castle clock struck the quarter before twelve she managed to slip away from him, and run out to her coach. She sprang into it, the rat coachman cracked his whip, and away they went, and the Prince did not know what had become of her.
When the stepsisters came home, Cinderella was again sitting in the corner beside the fire, dressed in her rags.
CINDERELLA AT THE BALL
“Was it a beautiful ball?” she asked.