CHAPTER XII

CINDERELLA'S PRINCE

"I COULDN'T dream of letting you go out, Ella, with a cold like this on your chest. I shall have you laid up with pneumonia if I do."

It was the evening before Ella's birthday party, and somehow or other, the child had contracted a chill, much to the anxiety of her grandmother.

"Oh, Grannie!" Ella's voice had positively a wail in it.

"No, my dear," went on Mrs. Russell; "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but your health is more important than a birthday party."

The child's disappointment was almost too deep for words. Such a calamity as not being able to go to her party had never occurred to her.

"Grannie, my cold is nothing," she said. "It'll break my heart if you don't let me go."

But Grannie was absolutely unyielding. "No, Ella, I'm responsible for you to your father, and were I to neglect your health, I don't know what he would say."

Mrs. Russell, as a matter of fact, was wont to be over-anxious at times, and despite all Ella's protestations, she was packed off early to bed. Here she was bidden to drink some hot gruel, after which a steaming poultice was placed on her chest. That night the child cried herself to sleep, and in consequence looked both tired and heavy-eyed in the morning. Nevertheless, her cold was decidedly better, and Mrs. Russell almost regretted the note which she had dispatched to the Hall on the previous evening.

The consternation her missive caused, was beyond words, Rupert expressing his opinion of Mrs. Russell in no very complimentary phrases.

Mrs. Snowden did not say much, for hope was still in her heart.

She had no intention of giving up her project easily, and so, directly after lunch that morning, she ordered the carriage to be brought round, with a foot-warmer and plenty of rugs. The lady then started off herself to Mrs. Russell's lodgings, bent on bringing back with her, both Ella and her grandmother to the Hall. And, after earnest pleading be it said, she won her way.

The delight of the Snowden children at the success of their mother's mission was beyond words, and this one serious drawback to their happiness being removed, all went merry as a marriage bell.

* * * *

"You, Kenneth, have got to be the Prince, and in five minutes' time you must come in with the slipper to fit on Cinderella's foot. We'll have a jolly big one, for the fun of the thing!"

"All right. Have you got one that will do?"

"Yes,—" it was clever Rupert who was organizing the games for the evening—"we've got an old one of Nurse's. It will hold both Ella's feet, and there 'll still be lodgings to let."

Kenneth laughed. The fun was at its height, and charades were in full progress, much to the amusement of the little assembled guests.

The word chosen for the charade was "Cinderella," and the two first parts had already been enacted.

Now it only remained for the final scene, which was the trying on of the slipper by the Prince.

Kenneth, during the five minutes before his presence was required, ran downstairs to see whether Uncle Phil had yet made his appearance. He wended his way to the dining-room, where he heard voices. Here a surprise awaited him, a surprise so delightful that it nearly took his breath away. Not only did he find his mother, Mrs. Russell and Uncle Phil in the room, but a tall, fine-looking stranger also, whose face somehow seemed slightly familiar to the lad.

"Hullo! Ken, my boy," said Dr. Carteret, stretching out his hand. "Here I am, you see—'better late than never!'"

The warmth of Kenneth's greeting was enough to satisfy the most exacting of uncles.

"I'm awf'ly glad to see you, Uncle Phil," said he; "but what made you so late?"

"Well, we just managed to miss our train at Victoria, old chap. Now, Ken,—" this as the boy turned questioningly towards the stranger—"I want you to guess who it is I've brought home with me."

Kenneth looked puzzled. That something unusual had happened he felt sure, for Mrs. Russell's eyes were shining with happy tears, and his mother's face was brimful of pleasure.

Then, in a flash, it came to him! He had seen more than once, the photograph of Ella's father, and here—yes, there was no doubt at all in his mind now—was Gordon Russell in very truth.

"I know," cried he delightedly; "Cinderella's father has come home at last!"

"Right, my boy," said Uncle Phil; "clever chap; now come and be introduced properly."

Kenneth was so pleased at the turn of affairs that he scarcely knew whether he was standing on his head or his heels; but presently he recovered himself sufficiently to be able to make a suggestion.

After shaking hands with Mr. Russell, he turned to his mother, his eyes bright with a splendid idea, which had just come into his mind.

"Mother," said he, "what fun it would be to surprise Cinderella! She thinks I'm coming in presently to fit on her slipper. Couldn't Mr. Russell do it instead of me? Just let me manage it all, may I, mother?"

And Kenneth had his way.

A few minutes later the whole party made its way towards the nursery door. Kenneth, however, was the only one to enter.

"Cinderella," said he to the waiting Princess, for Kenneth was a few minutes behind his time, "just shut your eyes for a minute. Shut them tight, mind you!"

"Stupid!" grumbled Rupert. "That isn't in the charade."

But Kenneth insisted, and the little Princess obediently did as she was bid.

Then, motioning every one to be silent, Kenneth beckoned those outside the nursery to come in. He next gave the slipper into Mr. Russell's hand, his heart going pit-a-pat as he waited to see the issue of events.

An absolute stillness reigned, for here was something quite unexpected.

But for Kenneth's warning finger, Uncle Phil's arrival would have been greeted with shouts of delight; as it was, the boy's scheme was being carried out to perfection.

A very sweet little maid, indeed, looked "Cinderella," as she sat there with fast-closed eyes, waiting the coming of the Prince.

The roomy slipper was soon placed on the little foot, and at Kenneth's word of command the child opened her eyes.

A look of puzzled wonder came into the little face, and then a cry of such gladness burst from her lips, that more than one pair of eyes grew suddenly tear-filled.

"Father! Father!" cried she. "Is it really—really you?"

"Yes, little one, there's not a doubt about it," was the reply, and hereupon the Prince took "Cinderella" into his loving arms and kissed her fondly.

* * * *

And so rolled away the clouds of poverty and care from little Ella Russell's pathway—

"And over meadowland and hill, The birds trilled forth their songs again, And as in blessing from the skies, God sent His 'shining after rain.'"

THE END

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