Words broke from her tremulously: "And so it is to be the Sleeping Beauty! I had hoped … there was to be one who would find my crystal slipper and come for me …"
She had scarcely uttered the words when the Masked Lady stepped forward and touched her face with gentle fingers and kissed her brow.
A happy transformation occurred in Cinderella's face. She stood gazing into vacancy a moment, her eyes shining. An instant later she dashed from the room, to be present at the wedding ceremony. Already, in the distance, the strains of the Lohengrin march could be heard.
The Masked Lady would have gone into the chapel then, but she was detained by Mr. Literal, who said irritably: "That march—you know it's really quite modern. Wagner, isn't it?"
The Masked Lady replied with a certain repression: "Beautiful things are never modern—yet always modern. They have existed always, from the dawn of time, waiting for the proper occasion for their use. Come, I must be present at the wedding of Everychild."
"Still," said Mr. Literal drily, "I should say there have been many weddings at which you were not present."
But she was not listening. She had gone; and he smilingly followed.
The sound of music gradually died away. There was a distant murmur of voices. Then again the music sounded, louder, with a quality of triumph in it. Louder and louder it sounded.
The bridal party returned! Flower girls ran before, scattering flowers. Everychild and the Sleeping Beauty appeared, followed by the king and queen.
A great throng entered the room: lords and ladies, the companions of Everychild, led now by Cinderella.