He knew what to do in a second.  He dropped to the floor and rolled under Cinderella’s bed!  From his hiding-place under the bed he saw the door open wide and a very pompous-appearing matron enter the room.

This was Cinderella’s mother, who began immediately, in a rage: 

“So, my fine girl, you are here ahead of me!”

Cinderella bowed her head.  “I am here, mother,” she said in a low voice.

“Without your fine clothes, I see!”

“My fine clothes, mother?” said Cinderella, with downcast eyes.

“None of that, my lass!  A mother’s eyes are not deceived.  I knew it was you!  All those jewels and silks, finer than your poor dear sisters can afford to wear, did not deceive me.  And the prince dancing with you shamelessly while your poor sisters sat by as if they had wooden legs . . . did you suppose for an instant you could deceive me?”

Of course Cinderella knew she had been found out.  She replied in a tone of sad resignation:  “I could scarcely have expected to deceive you, mother.  I’ve had so little experience in doing so.  You know I’ve always been obedient—­always before.  Deceit isn’t easy.  I had only changed my dress, after all, while you had put on a gracious manner—­and yet I knew you instantly.”

“Precisely . . . What?  Oh, you shall pay for that!”

The angry creature looked about for some means of inflicting a cruel punishment, and her eyes came upon a closet door.  “Come, to bed with you!” she exclaimed.  “In the closet!  It will do very well for such as you.  I’ll have you under lock and key to-night, and to-morrow I’ll look into your case, you impudent, disobedient wretch!”

Seeing what her mother’s intention was, Cinderella cried in a mournful tone, “Oh, mother!”

But her mother stamped her foot violently.  “In with you!” she cried.  Whereupon she removed a key from its peg on the wall and unlocked the closet door.  With one movement she forced Cinderella into the closet.  Then she locked the door and replaced the key on its peg.

“Unless the child is a witch in disguise—­which I shouldn’t put apast her, for how else should she get the silks and jewels she wore to-night?—­she’ll not be able to show her face again until I come to let her out.  I wore a gracious manner, did I?—­and she knew me instantly in spite of it!  There’s a dutiful child for you.  A dutiful child?  A shameless hussy!”

And the furious creature blew out the candle on the mantel and left the room.  You could hear her slam the door.

A faint cry of distress came from the locked closet:  “Mother—­mother!”

In the darkness Everychild’s voice could be heard speaking cautiously, “Wait, Cinderella—­wait until I can make a light.”

The voice from the closet was heard again:  “Mother—­mother!”

And then Everychild’s voice:  “I must make a light, so that I can find the key!”