"Are you ready, Cinderella, my dear?"
Jenny laughed, locked the door on the outside, and put the key in her pocket. It was a big key for such a little person, and Mr. Riah offered to carry it.
"No, no, no," said Jenny; "I'll carry it myself. I'm awfully lopsided, you know, and it helps to keep me even. I'll tell you a secret, godmother; I wear my pocket on my high side on purpose."
He took her hand within his arm, and she worked her little crutch along briskly with the other. She had already given him her basket, with a doll in it in evening toilet, to carry, and so they set out through the fog toward London.
"SHE TURNED HIM TO THE BRILLIANTLY LIGHTED TOY-SHOP WINDOW."
When they reached the great city they turned into one of the principal streets, and with the pressure of her little hand on his arm she turned him to the brilliantly lighted toy-shop window. There were dolls of all sizes, with black hair, with white hair, brown hair, and yellow hair, straight hair and curly hair and crimped hair; dressed in all the colors of the rainbow, for presentation at court, for going to balls, for going out driving, for going out on horseback, for going out walking, for going to get married, for going to help other dolls to get married, for all the gay events of life.
"Pretty! pretty! pretty!" said Mr. Riah, clapping his hands lightly. "You have done it very daintily, Cinderella."
"Glad you like them," said Jenny, pleased and proud, her hair sparkling like spun crystal through the gas-lighted fog. "But the fun is when I make the great ladies try my dresses on. It's the hardest work I have to do, too."
"How do you mean?"