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“Oh, no, not a fairy; only Cinderella. Last night I was the poor little cinder girl; now my fairy godmothers, two, have touched me with their wands, needles, and I’m so fine even the Prince didn’t know me.” “Billy! Who could steal our little girl? I cannot think it. She’s gone with some of the children to watch the fire.” Mrs. Bennett’s words were braver than her face, for in her heart she felt Billy was right, though she wondered why. “O Billy!” Jean gasped, fear for the little, delicate girl in that eery place lending sympathy to her voice..
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Confusion followed. Harry was struck with a great fear. Was she dead? He had never seen a girl do so before. Would they hang him? Several ladies of the district were already busy “scttin’ up” the quilt when Mrs. Wopp and her satellites entered the Mifsud parlor. “Mosey!” “Well, why don’t you go along, Mrs. Lancaster? Don’t prize babies have attendants?”.
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