CINDERELLA (_with eyes unopening_). Is that you, Godmother? GODMOTHER. It is I; my poor god-daughter is all mixed up, and I have come to help her out. CINDERELLA. You have been long in coming. I very near gave you up. GODMOTHER. Sweetheart, I couldn’t come sooner, because in these days, you know, even the fairy godmother is with the Red Cross. CINDERELLA. Was that the reason? I see now; I thought perhaps you kept away because I wasn’t a good girl. GODMOTHER. You have been a good brave girl; I am well pleased with my darling godchild. CINDERELLA. It is fine to be called darling; it heats me up. I’ve been wearying for it, Godmother. Life’s a kind of hard. GODMOTHER. It will always be hard to you, Cinderella. I can’t promise you anything else. CINDERELLA. I don’t suppose I could have my three wishes, Godmother. GODMOTHER. I am not very powerful in these days, Cinderella; but what are your wishes? CINDERELLA. I would like fine to have my ball, Godmother. GODMOTHER. You shall have your ball. CINDERELLA. I would like to nurse the wounded. GODMOTHER. You shall nurse the wounded. CINDERELLA. I would like to be loved by the man of my choice, Godmother. GODMOTHER. You shall be loved by the man of your choice. CINDERELLA. Thank you kindly. The ball first, if you please, and could you squeeze in the children so that they may see me in my glory. GODMOTHER. Now let this be my downtrodden godchild’s ball, not as balls are, but as they are conceived to be in a little chamber in Cinderella’s head. (_She fades from sight. In the awful stillness we can now hear the tiny clatter of horses infinitely small and infinitely far off. It is the equipage of_ CINDERELLA. _Then an unearthly trumpet sounds thrice, and the darkness is blown away._ _It is the night of the most celebrated ball in history, and we see it through our heroine’s eyes. She has, as it were, made everything with her own hands, from the cloths of gold to the ices._