The Girl Who Sat by the Ashes  by Padraic Colum

Part 1 of 2

ERE, the maidens were walking in the King's garden, gathering roses of the white and red, and telling each other about this and that that was said at the ball, and about such and such that was worn; there, Maid-alone, seated by the ashy hearth, was eating her luncheon of scraps and listening to the Ratcatcher complain against the servants for saying that he was letting the rats eat up all the tallow that they had for candles; and yonder, in her lady's chamber, Dame Dale sat listening to what her daughters, Berry-bright and Buttercup, were saying about he strange maiden who was the last to come into the King's ball.

"She came late and she sped away before the end to start people talking about her," said Buttercup.

"And her slippers!" said Berry-bright. "Was it noticed, I wonder, that her slippers were bronze-colored? That one should come to the ball not wearing grass-green slippers was an affront to the Chamberlain who had arranged everything to bring out the gold on the ground."

"Nobody seemed to notice that she spoiled the whole ball. Everything was going very agreeably before she came in," said Buttercup. "And the King's son would have asked me to distribute the citrons and pomegranates; that is one thing I am sure of."

"You need not be so sure of that, sister," said Berry-bright. "I saw him look from the citrons and pomegranates to my white hands, and I know for a surety what was passing in his mind."

Outside the King's son was looking over the garden wall to see if the maiden who came last to the ball was with the others. And not seeing her there he sighed and rode away.

And at that very moment the Chamberlain had finished writing down the points of beauty of the maidens who were present, and all the points of beauty that the Maiden in the bronze dress had. She had no name that he knew of, but opposite her count he wrote: The Matchless Maiden.

Then the evening breeze came and shook the strings of the little bells of silver that were hung across the Solar Gallery; the little bells chimed and chimed, wakening the nine nightingales in their darkened cages. The nightingales all began to sing. The score of servants came in and lighted the thousand candles and scattered the rose-leaves on the cloth-of-gold carpet. Then the seven servitors took their places upon the great scarlet stairway, standing ten steps above each other, each holding a silver candle-stick of seven branches in his hand.

All in their gauzes and spangles and laces the maidens began to come up the grand stairway. They all wore in their hair the high combs that the king's mother had given them for presents, and each had a rose behind her ear. When the maidens had taken a turn in the Solar Gallery the King's son and the young Peers of the Realm came up the stairway, the King's son with the diadem on his head, and all the Peers with velvet cloaks, and the Dukes wearing diamond buckles in their shoes. Berry-bright and Buttercup did not go up the stairs with the rest of the maidens; when the others were in the Solar Gallery they came in; gracefully, as their mother had taught them, they curtsied to the right to the king's son and to the left to the Peers of the Realm.

That night there were more musicians than the seventeen fiddlers in the little gallery. They all tuned up their instruments and played the Laughter Tune, and if there were any there who were not gay before they were made gay now. The King's son took off his diadem and the Peers of the Realm took off their velvet cloaks, and the maidens in their robes of gauze and spangle, of silk and satin, walked round in the procession. The King's son and the Peers of the Realm held their hands high for the procession to pass under; the King's son took the hand of the last maiden, and the dance began.

The King's son and all the Dukes would have been looking over their shoulders to the entrance of the Gallery to watch for someone else, only there was a fiddler who played more enchanting music than the rest. The Chamberlain signaled him when the dance began and he stood forward and played a music so bewitching that no one could remember anything but the dance. The King's son danced with Buttercup and with Berry-bright and he smiled so kindly upon them that each thought she surely would be asked to distribute the citrons and pomegranates that were on the table.

But the music ceased and nothing was heard but the jingle of the little silver bells that were hung across the Gallery. The fiddlers had left down fiddle and bow; all the maidens and all the Peers of the Realm were looking towards the entrance of the Solar Gallery. The king's son looked, and the heart in his breast gave a leap when he saw that she had come.