She put her arms
round her Godmother's neck and kissed and thanked her. "Goodbye,
childie; enjoy yourself, but whatever you do, remember to leave
the ball before the clock strikes twelve," the Godmother said, and
Cinderella promised.
But the hours flew by so happily and so swiftly that Cinderella forgot
her promise, until she happened to look at a clock and saw that it was
on the stroke of twelve. With a cry of alarm she fled from the room,
dropping, in her haste, one of the little glass slippers; but, with
the sound of the clock strokes in her ears, she dared not wait to pick
it up. The Prince hurried after her in alarm, but when he reached the
entrance hall, the beautiful Princess had vanished, and there was no
one to be seen but a forlorn little beggar-maid creeping away into the
darkness.
Poor little Cinderella!--she hurried home through the dark streets,
weary, and overwhelmed with shame.
The fire was out when she reached her home, and there was no Godmother
waiting to receive her; but she sat down in the chimney-corner to wait
her sisters' return. When they came in they could speak of nothing but
the wonderful things that had happened at the ball.
The beautiful Princess had been there again, they said, but had
disappeared just as the clock struck twelve, and though the Prince had
searched everywhere for her, he had been unable to find her.
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