Cinderella was silent, but she could not help wondering what the Prince would say it he could see her at home, in her dingy kitchen, washing up the greasy crockery, or scrubbing the floor.
So the time passed very pleasantly amid a thousand delights, and Cinderella quite forgot her godmother’s warning.
Suddenly she was horrified to hear the big clock in the tower strike the first note of twelve.
With a cry of alarm she sprang to her feet, and without even pausing to say good-bye, rushed out of the ballroom, down the steps of the terrace and into the palace garden, So great was her haste that one of her glass slippers came off and she did not even notice her loss.
Four, five, six! chimed the clock, and Cinderella ran as she had never run before. She lost herself in the shrubberies, and found her way out again, blundered among the flower-beds, and snapped the roses from their stalks in the speed of her flight.
Seven, eight, nine!
She crossed a lawn and found herself on a wide drive bordered by trees, which she knew must lead to the palace gates.
Ten, eleven, twelve!
And on the stroke of twelve her beautiful gown changed into the ragged dress of a kitchen-maid.
