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 polished to such a degree that it reflected the light of the candles and the gay colours of the dancers’ costumes. All the guests were assembled; the fiddlers were playing merrily, and the King and Queen themselves had stepped out to lead the dance.

The entrance of Cinderella on the Prince’s arm made a great sensation. Everybody stopped dancing to look at her, and even the fiddlers, amazed at her beauty, forgot to play, and sat gaping in surprise. The King, old as he was, could not take his eyes off her, and was heard to say to the Queen that it was a long time since he had seen anybody so lovely.

“Will you not tell me your name, sweet lady?” whispered the Prince as he led her forward to present her to his father and mother.

But Cinderella shook her head and told him that she was under a vow, so the Prince, who was very polite and