her to the supper-table, and was too much occupied in waiting upon her to partake of anything himself. While seated, Cinderella heard the clock strike three-quarters past eleven. She rose to leave, the Prince pressing her to accept an invitation for the ball on the following evening.
On reaching home, her godmother praised her for being so punctual, and agreed to let her go to the next night's ball.
Although she seemed to be tired, her sisters, instead of showing pity, teased her with glowing accounts of the splendid scene they had just left, and spoke particularly of the beautiful Princess. Cinderella was delighted to hear all this, and asked them the name of the Princess, but they replied, nobody knew her. So much did they say in praise of the lady, that Cinderella expressed a desire to go to the next ball to see the Princess; but this only served to bring out their dislike of poor Cinderella still more, and they would not lend her the meanest of their dresses.
The next evening the two sisters went to the ball, and Cinderella also, who was still more splendidly dressed than before. Her enjoyment was even greater than at the first ball, and she was so occupied with the Prince's tender sayings that she was not so quick in marking the progress of time.
To her alarm she heard the clock strike twelve. She fled from the ball-room; but in a moment the coach changed again to a pumpkin, the horses to mice, the coachman and postilion to rats, the footmen to lizards, and Cinderella's
