CINDERELLA

The next time that Jean saw Him was at the theater. She and her father
went to worship at the shrine of Maude Adams, and He was there.

It was Jean's yearly treat. There were, of course, other plays. But
since her very-small-girlhood, there had been always that red-letter
night when "The Little Minister" or "Hop-o'-my-Thumb" or "Peter Pan"
had transported her straight from the real world to that whimsical,
tender, delightful realm where Barrie reigns.

Peter Pan had been the climax!

_Do you believe in fairies?_

Of course she did. And so did Miss Emily. And so did her father,
except in certain backsliding moments. But Hilda didn't.

Tonight it was "A Kiss for Cinderella"--! The very name had been
enough to set Jean's cheeks burning and her eyes shining.

"Do you remember, Daddy, that I was six when I first saw her, and she's
as young as ever?"

"Younger." It was at such moments that the Doctor was at his best.
The youth in him matched the youth in his daughter. They were boy and
girl together.

And now the girl on the stage, whose undying youth made her the
interpreter of dreams for those who would never grow up, wove her magic