Dance succeeded dance, and the Prince never once left Cinderella’s side. He seemed to have no eyes for anybody else, and quite neglected his other guests. Half-way through the evening, Cinderella said to him:
“Tell me, Prince, who are those two ladies sitting over there in the alcove by the pillar? Poor things, they have not been asked to dance once the whole evening. I feel quite sorry for them.”
The Prince gave a careless glance at Charlotte and Euphronia, who, indeed, looked very sour and miserable. “I do not know their names,” said he, “but they are probably the daughters of one of the neighbouring squires. If you like, I will send the Master of the Ceremonies to find them partners.”
“Do so, if you please,” said Cinderella, “for I am sure that they are not enjoying themselves at all—and that is a pity when everybody should be so happy!”
“You are as good and as kind-hearted as you are beautiful,” said the Prince as he went away to give the necessary orders; but he did not say it aloud, though he was longing to tell Cinderella how much he admired her.
