so, with my new dress, I am to walk with that shabby thing." No one else expressed this sentiment so loudly—but many felt it, and it produced a general feeling of ill will to the unlucky Emmeline, to whom it soon showed itself in the shape of taunts and sneers. Pride checked the poor child's tears, but she retreated to a corner, where her utmost efforts could not prevent the long eye-lashes from glittering. With a down-cast head she heard the various groups disperse and go up stairs to the agreeable duties of dressing. Suddenly she heard a light and well-known step—and a glad sweet voice exclaimed “Why is my little Emmeline seated all alone, what is she thinking about?”
"I was thinking," said the child earnestly, for she was scarcely yet aroused from the train of thoughts in which she was engrossed, "how pleasant it was for Cinderella to have a godmother who was a fairy."
"And also thinking, I guess, that you would like such a godmother too."
