hey are strange," said the little girl.

"Would you like to go to the ball?"

"Oh! Why I'm afraid I wouldn't know what to do," hesitatingly, "I've
never seen a ball."

"You can dance. I saw you dancing with an organ grinder."

"Oh, yes, I can dance that way, but----"

"Would you like to go?"

"Oh, wouldn't I!" Marilla's eyes shone with delight. "If you were a
fairy godmother you could put me in some clothes."

Marilla didn't believe in it at all, but it was very funny.

"Then just step out here."

She did with the strangest sort of feeling. The fairy touched her with
the wand. Her clothes fell in a heap. The big shoes dropped off. There
was a shimmery pink silk frock with lace and ribbons and the daintiest
pink kid slippers with diamond buckles and pink silk stockings with
lovely clocks. She went dancing around the kitchen light as a feather,
her eyes shining, her cheeks like roses, her lips full of smiles. She
was fairly bewitched.

"You'll do," exclaimed godmother, and she threw a beautiful white
cloak about her.

"But we haven't a pumpkin in the house and Bridget catches all the
mice and burns them up. So you can't make a carriage----"

"There's one at the door." The hall seemed all alight and they went
out. Yes, there was a coach with lamps on both sides, two horses and a
driver, besides a footman who helped them in with a fine air, and
drove off as gay as if it was Christmas night, though it were really
March.

The streets were alight, the windows shining in splendor. Marilla had
never seen anything like it. Presently they stopped at what seemed to
the little girl a great palace with broad white marble steps and tall
carved columns lighted by myriads of colored lights and the vestibule
was hung with vines. There were statues standing round that looked
like real people only they were so white from top to toe. Then they
went up another beautiful stairway that led to a gallery where there
were numbers of inviting little rooms, and throngs of elegantly
dressed people, not any larger than boys and girls. A maid took off
their wraps, and brushed Marilla's hair and it fell in golden rings
all over her head.

"What beautiful hair," she exclaimed, "just like threads of silk. You
must let it grow long. And such lovely eyes; but she's thin."

"Yes, rather," said godmother, "But she has dancing feet. She's a real
Cinderella."

"There's so many of them and only one Prince. What a pity!"

"But each has her