A Modern Cinderella

“What beautiful hair,” she exclaimed, “just like threads of silk. You must let it grow long. And such lovely eyes; but she’s thin.”

“Yes, rather,” said godmother, “But she has dancing feet. She’s a real Cinderella.”

“There’s so many of them and only one Prince. What a pity!”

“But each has her turn, and they are very happy.”

Then Marilla glanced around the gallery. That was well lighted and had a cushioned seat against the wall. Groups were sitting together or rambling about. And a great circular room, down stairs lighted by a magnificent chandelier whose prisms seemed in constant motion and rayed off every imaginable color with a faint musical sound.

“Oh! oh! oh!” and her eyes were full of tears though her lips smiled.

“Now we will go down,” said godmother.

That was by another way. But this place was a perfect land of delight. She had never read of anything like it, but the Arabian Nights had not come in her way. Some were dancing about informally, some talking and laughing. There were the most elegantly attired boys in silks and velvets made in all pretty fashions. Silk stockings and light colored pumps, jackets trimmed with frills of lace, some with satin trousers wide enough for petticoats at the bottom and blue velvet sailor collars. There was no end of fancy attire.

“This is to be your knight, Sir Aldred. And this is the new Cinderella. Take good care of her until the Prince comes.”

He bowed with most enchanting grace.

“There are so many of them!” he said, as he took her hand, “But she is the prettiest of them all.”

The knight gave her hand a little squeeze and she turned rosy red.

“Come this way,” and he led her along. It was odd to be introduced as Cinderella, but everybody was so sweet and cordial that she kept smiling and bowing.

Presently a cluster of bells sounded and everybody fell into line along the outer edge of the beautiful building. It was a grand march and the tapping of the feet seemed like an encore to the music. Then the first couple stepped out on the floor. Everybody dances in fairy land that is presided over by godmothers. Oh, it was just enchanting!

“Are you tired?” Sir Aldred asked presently.

“Oh, no, I never imagined anything so utterly delightful. And the splendid dressing. Are there many Cinderellas here?” a little timidly.

“Oh, yes. They love to come, but the new one always dances with the Prince. He will come in presently for you.”

“Oh, I shall feel afraid.” She really felt tears rushing to her eyes.

“No, you will not, for he is truly most delightful, a regular Prince Charming. You see, it is different in fairy land. You forget for awhile who you have been. That’s the charm of it. And you’re such a lovely dancer.”

“And – and – is there any glass slipper?”

She seemed to remember something about that.

“That’s in the story. The Prince isn’t looking for a wife now. And you couldn’t dance in a stiff glass slipper. It might shiver to pieces. What pretty little feet you have! And such a lovely curly head.”

It seemed quite delightful to be praised and she was glad she pleased him.

Then there was a curious quivering about the place as if every one was drawing a long breath, and the lights were mysterious, while all the little bells twinkled. And there stood the Prince.

He was taller than any of the others and very handsome. As for his attire, I couldn’t begin to describe it, it was so resplendent with silk and velvet and jewels.

Sir Aldred led the little lady up to him and said: “This is Cinderella.”

The Prince bowed and pressed a kiss upon her hand and she was glad it was lily white and not rough and red.

“I am very glad you are here Cinderella, I hope you will have a happy time. You look so.”

“Oh I know I shall.” She blushed and cast her eyes down in such a sweet fashion that he really longed to kiss the lids.

Then the music commenced and they stepped out as if they had danced together all their lives. The others formed a circle and went round them, bowing as they passed. There were such fascinating figures, changing frequently, each one prettier than the last. She wondered how they could remember; how she could do it. They all looked so lovely. It certainly was fairy land.

Now and then the Prince bent over and said something charming to her as if she had been a fine lady and the odd thing was that she could answer him readily. The music began to go slower and died in softest melody. Then he turned and said —

“Now we will go out and have some refreshments. You must be tired after all this dancing, but you don’t look it at all.”

“Oh, I feel as if I could dance all night. I believe I am bewitched.”

He gave her the sweetest smile that any Cinderella ever had.

“I am very glad. Sometimes they think of the ashes and cinders and wonder whether the pleasure will last. Then the lightness goes out of their feet and the smiles from their rosy lips. The thing is to enjoy it while you are here. You are a very delightful Cinderella; I must ask godmother to keep a watch over you. I hope to meet you again.”

The banquet room was beautiful as well; there was a great oval table with a chandelier shedding a thousand lights from the gorgeous prisms. Underneath was a tiny lake full of blooming water lilies. There were mounds of fruit and flowers, nuts from all over the world, piles of cake, candied fruit, ices made in all kinds of shape. The most beautiful plates and dishes, glass and crystal and servants piling up dainties and pouring out fragrant drinks.

At the head sat the Prince and Cinderella. He rose and drank to her health and good fortune with the most exquisite verse and Sir Aldred returned with a charming reply. Certainly there were no envious or jealous sisters. Every one was so merry and talked with his or her neighbor, and every girl had a knight who was devoted to her. Were they all Cinderellas, and had the Prince been as delightful to them? Every face beamed with wondrous satisfaction.

“But I don’t understand it at all,” and she glanced up wonderingly.

“Oh, you don’t have to in fairy land. You just take all the pleasure that comes. You are not thinking of all the tomorrows. There will be something nice and pleasant if you look for it in the right place. For little Cinderella, we must not be looking for tomorrow’s joy. You cannot find them tonight. There are flowers that fold their leaves but will open again tomorrow. You would be short sighted to sit down and cry tonight about it.”

Marilla was a good deal puzzled.

“You must be a happy little Cinderella when you have been to fairy land. You must not lose faith in fairy godmothers. They come at unexpected times and in different guise. And that is what keeps the world bright and the heart young, and sometime the real Prince comes.”

Her heart beat with a mysterious joy. She was full of gladness.

Then they walked around and all the other Cinderellas seemed so happy when he smiled and spoke to them. The beautiful music went on. Here and there groups were dancing again.

And then it seemed as if a giant caught her and almost shook her to pieces, and the beautiful lights wavered and vanished. She was brought upon her feet with a force that would have shivered any glass slipper.

“You little huzzy! What are you doing up this time of night, instead of asleep in bed? Rouse up! rouse up! Lucky you didn’t let my fire go out this cold night! Come, hustle!”

There seemed a sort of crash. Marilla glanced around with half-opened eyes. Yes, this was the old kitchen. There was Bridget with the lighted end of a candle in the tin candlestick.

“Come! get along, sleepy head.” She gave her a push up the stairs and through the halls, half scolding her but not cross. “It’s a wonder the gobble sirs didn’t come after you. If you’d been carried off now! It’s awful cold. I’d sleep in my stockings and they’ll be good and warm in the morning.”

Marilla hustled off her clothes, wrapped herself in an old blanket and tumbled into bed in a little heap. But there was some mysterious music floating through her brain and a fragrance in the air. The Prince smiled down into her eyes, and the fairy godmother she should always believe in. For she had been to real fairy land; that was the truth.

CHAPTER II

JACK