made a low courtesy to the whole assembly and retired in haste.

You see how fortune befriends the good-hearted, and even out of such
unpromising material as a pumpkin and mice, can make a coach and six,
with which to honor her worthy favorite. So Cinderella goes to the ball;
but to teach her to be diligent and faithful in her engagements, her
faëry godmother enjoins upon her that she return home at twelve. Native
beauty and grace attract the princely heart; and while the king's son
pays no heed to her pretentious sisters, he is all grace and
condescension to little Cinderella. Obedient to her engagement with her
godmother, she returns in all the splendor and honor of the coach and
six.

On reaching home, she found her godmother; and after thanking her for
the treat she had enjoyed, she ventured to express a wish to return to
the ball on the following evening, as the prince had requested her to
do.

She was still relating to her godmother all that had happened at court,
when her two sisters knocked at the door. Cinderella went and let them
in, pretending to yawn and stretch herself, and rub her eyes, and
saying, "How late you are!" just as if she was waked up out of a nap,
though, truth to say, she had never felt less disposed to sleep in her
life. "If you had been to the ball," said one of the sisters, "you would
not have thought it late. There came the most beautiful princess ever
seen, who loaded us with polite attentions, and gave us oranges and
citrons."

Cinderella could scarcely contain her delight, and inquired the name of
the princess. But they replied that nobody knew her name, and that the