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SOUTHERN BANNER: JULY 2, 1878,
CINDERELLA.
“ Really it’s quite a riddle, when
one coroes to think of it, said Mrs.
Dale, putting the tips of her ringed
fingers meditatively together.’*
“ Jeannette is a charming girl with a
most taking way with her. I’m sure
there can be no doubt about her
marrying satisfactorily. And Mari**
an’s music is an excellent card to
play. But when one comes to
Philippa—”
“ An odd little gipsy isn’t she ?”
said Mr. Dale. Decidedly impracti
cable, I should think.
“ Neither pretty, accomplished, i
nor womanly!” sighed Mrs. Dale,
gloomily.
Mrs. Darrel Dale had invited her
brother’s daughters from Hemlock
Hollow, in the Catskill Mountains,
to spend the summer at Niagara Falls
with ner. .
‘•I dare say,” said she confiden
tially, to her sister-in-law, the farm
er’s wife, they’ll all marry well
before the season is over; and in any
event the experience will be worth a
deal to them.’’
And honest ftirs. Humphries took
all her ten years’ savings out of the
Hemlock Hollow Bank, to equip the
three girls suitably for the summer
campaign.
Jeannett took to waltzing and the
German as naturally a9 if she had
been born to them; Marian slipped
gracefully into a musical and literary
grove; but poor little Philippa
seemed to fit nowhere. She was shy
and silent in the ball-room, struck
unaccountably mute when she ought
to be talkative, and seemed to prefer
the woods, beside the great cateract,
when all the world flocked to the
ball-rooin of the Clifton House or the
International.
“ Because AuntTheo,’’ said honest
Philippa. “ I never know what to
say to the gentlemen when they ask
me to dance.”
“ But, my dear child,” said Mrs.
Dale “ that’s not the way to get into
society.
“I—I don’t think I caro so very
much about society.” Aunt Theo,
said heretical Philippa.
“Then you’ll never get married in
the world,” said Aunt Theo, in an
accent of despair.
But even Philippa was roused into
interest when the cards came out for
the grand fancy masquerade ball at
the International Hotel, and Mr.
Dale give each of his nieces a hun
dred dollar bill, to enable them to
appear suitably for the occasion.
“I shall personate ‘ Mudine,’ ’’ said
Jeannette, thinking how well she
would look in sea green crape, crystal
fringes and water lillies.
“ And I shall be Sappho,” cried
out Marian.
“ Capital!” said Mrs Dale. “ And
you, Philippa
“I don’t know yet,”said Philippa,
contracting her black eyebrows.
“ Mr. Mortimer says I ought to go
as a gipsy.”
“ Then, my dear,” said Mrs. Dale,
be. a gipsy, by all means. If Mr.
Mortimer is good enough to express
an opinion, it shouldn’t be neglec
ted.”
And both Marian and Jeannette
looked a little jealous, for the Hon.
Hugh Mortimer, from Montreal, was
the lion at Niagra Falls just then,
and his gracious notice was enough
to ensure the lucky recipient a front
place in the ranks of fashion.
“ When did he say that, puss ?”
demanded Jeannette, jerking out the
ribbons of sash.
“Oh, yesterday, when we were
over on Goat Island.”
“ Did he walk with you?’’
“ A little way.”
“ I hope you made yourself agree
able ?’’ suggested Marian, tartly.
“ I don’t know whether I did or
not,” said Philippa. “ And now,
Aunt Theo, if you’ll give me that
.bundle of work, I’ll take it'to Elsie
Dupre. There will be just time
before tea for us to walk there and
back.’’
“ But the band will play presently
and—■’*
“Thank you, Aunt,’’ said Phil-
ippa; “ but I "don’t care forlSthe
band.”
Elsie Dupre was a slim, consump
tive looking girl, who lived among
spruces and tamaracks on the Cana*
dian side, and took in what sewiug,
embroidery and lace mending she
was lucky enough to get—a girl in
whom Philippa Humphries had
somewhat become interested, perhaps
because she was so friendless, and
shadowy, and forlorn.
But instead of beiug singing at
her work, Philippa found poor Elsie
sobbing at the window, while her
grandmother, a hooked nose, saf
froned skinned old crone sat rocking
herself back and forth by the fireless
hearth.
The girl put her brown, warm
hand on Elsie’s shoulder.
“ Elsie,” said she, “ stop -cryiug.
Tell me what is the matter ?”
“ Don’t touch me, mademoiselle,’’
wailed poor Elsie. “ They are com
ing to take me to prison to-night.”
And then in answer to Philippa’s
fctartea eyes of enquiry, she told her
how Mr9. St. George had sent a
moire dress there to be retrimmed
with costly Spanish blonde—Mrs.
St. George cf the Clifton House,
whose pearls, and diamonds, and
splendid toilets, were the marvel of
the place—aud how by some acci
dent, the old grandmother had
contrived to upset a kerosene lamp
upon it.
“ It is ruined, of course,” said
Elsie, clasping her hands ; “ and 1
cannot pay for it—so I am to be ar
rested for the money it is worth.”
“She must bean old hag!’’ said
Philippa, impulsively,
“ She is a cold, hard woman,
Mademoiselle,” sighed Elsie, “who
knows not the meaning of the word
‘ mercy.’ ” And if they put me in
prison my old grandmother will
starve.
“ They shall not put me in prison!”
said Philippa. How much was the
dress worth ?
“ A deal ot money, Mademoiselle.
A hundred dollars! wailed Elsie.
Philippa Humphries put her hand
into her pocket, where the hundred
dollar bill that Uncle Dale bad given
her lay inside the folds of a tiny blue
velvet portroonaie.
“ There’s the money,” said she.
“ Give it to the odious old harpy,
and dou’t cry any more; for your
eyes are swelled twice their usual
size already.”
Elsie looked incredulously at the
little brown slip of paper.
“But, Mademoiselle, yon are sure
ly not in earnest!” said she. “You
cannot be!”
“Yes, I am,” said Philippa, shaking
back the jetty rings of hair from her
solemn black eyes. “ Take that
money, pay Mrs. St. George and
dou’t talk any more about it.
* * * * * *
“ Well, Philippa,’’ said Mrs. Dale,
when her neice came back again,
“ have you decided upon your char
acter yet^”
“ Yes,’’ said Philippa, quietly. “ I
will be Cinderella!”
“Who?” said Mrs. Dale, with her
band behind her ear.
“Don’t you leinember, Aunt Theo?
The little brown skinned girl who
stayed at home when her sisters went
to the prince’s ball.” '
“ What a very odd choice!’’ said
Mrs. Dale.
“Is it?” said Philippa. “Weill
always did like to be different from
other people, Aunt Theo.”
The masquerade ball was a bril
liant success. “Undine,” in silver
green crape and white water lilies,
was as lively as a dream. “Sappho,”
was tall and pale, and delightfully
classic; but there was one drop
lacking in the cup of happiness. Mr.
Mortimer, for whose benefit half the
belles of Niagara Falls bad dressed
that evening, was not there.
“ So provoking of Philippa,’’ said
Aunt Theo, to go and throw away
that money.
“ My dear,” said Mrs. Dale, “ a
good deed is never thrown away.
And really that Cinderella idea of
the little girl’s wasn’t so bad. Ha,
ha, ha! she did stay at home when
her sisters went to the ball.”
“She will never learn wisdom,”
said Mrs. Dale, with some asperity.
44 It’s so strange she don t care about
6uch things.”
But as it happened, Philippa did
care about such things. And on that
identical moment she was standing
on one of the starlightcd verandas
with a pink Shetland shawl around
her shoulders, peeping snrreptuously
through the windows at the waltzer*.
“ Miss Philippa!”
She started guiltily.
u Oh, Mr. Mortimer! I am not
doing wrong, am I ?”
He smiled as he drew her arm
through his.
“But why are you not dancing
inside?” - ^
“ I—I preferred not tosnight.”
“Little Philippa,” said Mr. Morti
mer standing still under the shadow
of a drooping elm, “ you are equivo
cating now. And, as it happens, I
know the truth ?”
“ I don’t understand you,” said
Philippa.
“My velvet is in love with Elsie
Dupre. She has told him all about
your deed of kiudly charity and he
has told me!”
“ Yes,” said Philippa, in a low tone,
“my uncle gave me money for a dress,
bat I preferred helping Elsie to going
to the ball.” ,
“You told your aunt you were
going as Cinderella.”
“ How do you know ? But that
is not strictly true,” laughed Phil
ippa “ I was to be Ciuderella. And
so I am!”
“Then Philippa, if you are Cinde
rella, will you let me be the Prince ?”
“ Mr. Mortimer!’’
“ Sweetest, I have been looking
all . my life for just such a noble-
hearted girl,” said Mortimer. And
now that I have fouud her, I shall
not willingly let her go.”
“ Do you mean—”
“ I mean, love, that I want you
for my wife.
Mr. Dale could hardly credit his
own ears, the next day, when Hugo
Mortimer formally requested of him
the hand of his youngest niece in
marriage. And Mrs. Dale lifted her
hands and eyes to the ceiiiug.
“ To think that it should be
Philippa after all!” said sl^e.j^-
As for Ukdine and “Sappho,” they
swallowed their mortification and
congratulated the little brown gypsy
as cordially as possible.
“ After all,” said shrewed Uncle
Dale. Philippa invested her hun
dred dollars the best of any of you !
SAM
Boot and Slioe-LCaiser,
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