“Yes, it was a fine ball indeed,” said the sisters, and they began to tell her about it.
“And whom did the Prince dance with?” asked Cinderella.
“Oh, he danced with a strange princess who came in just after the ball began. The Prince had bowed to us and smiled, and he might have chosen one of us as his partner, but after she came he had eyes for no one else. She must be a very great princess indeed, but no one could find out who she was, not even the Prince himself, though he begged and entreated her to tell him. She slipped away before the ball was over, and no one knew where she went. The Prince was like one distracted. To-morrow night another ball is to be given, for the Prince hopes the Princess may come again and that he may find out who she is.”
Cinderella sighed. “Oh, my dear sisters, let me go with you to-morrow, I beg of you. One of your old dresses would do for me to wear.”
But the sisters laughed and jeered. “You the cinder-wench!” they cried. “No, no, the kitchen is the place for you. We would die of shame if any of those fine folk saw you.” Then they bade her unfasten their dresses and help them to bed. They must get to sleep and be fresh and handsome for the second ball.
The next night the stepsisters dressed again, and drove away to the ball, and more than ever did Cinderella long to go with them.
Scarcely had they gone, however, when the fairy godmother appeared in the kitchen.
“Well,” said she, “I suppose you would like to go to this ball, too.”
“Oh, dear Godmother, if I only could!” cried Cinderella.
The godmother bade Cinderella bring her the pumpkin, the mice, the rat, and the lizards. Again she changed them into the grand coach, the horses, driver, and footmen, all complete. She then touched Cinderella’s rags with her wand, and they were changed into a dress even more beautiful than the one she had worn the night before. She stepped into the coach and rolled away to the ball.