"So, my fine girl, you are here ahead of me!"

Cinderella bowed her head. "I am here, mother," she said in a low
voice.

"Without your fine clothes, I see!"

"My fine clothes, mother?" said Cinderella, with downcast eyes.

"None of that, my lass! A mother's eyes are not deceived. I knew it
was you! All those jewels and silks, finer than your poor dear sisters
can afford to wear, did not deceive me. And the prince dancing with
you shamelessly while your poor sisters sat by as if they had wooden
legs . . . did you suppose for an instant you could deceive me?"

Of course Cinderella knew she had been found out. She replied in a
tone of sad resignation: "I could scarcely have expected to deceive
you, mother. I've had so little experience in doing so. You know I've
always been obedient--always before. Deceit isn't easy. I had only
changed my dress, after all, while you had put on a gracious
manner--and yet I knew you instantly."

"Precisely . . . _What_? Oh, you shall pay for that!"

The angry creature looked about for some means of inflicting a cruel
punishment, and her eyes came upon a closet door. "Come, to bed with
you!" she exclaimed. "In the closet! It will do very well for such as
you. I'll have you under lock and key to-night, and to-morrow I'll
look into your case, you impudent, disobedient wretch!"