And now Great-Aunt came. She is aunt to Mother and Aunt Magda and is awfully old. Great-Aunt thinks she knows everything, I do believe. No matter what incredible thing happens in the town or in the world, she insists that she foresaw long ago that it would happen. “There! Didn’t I know it? No need to tell me,” says Great-Aunt.
Between you and me, I will own that I cannot like her; but she is frightfully clever, and Aunt Magda daren’t do a thing except just what Great-Aunt wishes.
“Well,” said Great-Aunt, looking me over, “seems to me you had better stop growing now. You will soon be so tall that you can look into people’s second-story windows.”
Great-Aunt is a good half a head taller than I, so she had better think of her own height; but I didn’t say that. I only curtsied nicely and gave her all the proper greetings from Mother and Father.
Karsten had done nothing but run around through the rooms without greeting any one, shouting, “Where is Hedvig? Where is Dan?” Ugh! that rude Karsten! What would Mother think of his not greeting anybody, but just running around asking for the milkmaid and the dog? I must say it was decidedly necessary that I should come and behave properly. When I choose, I can behave myself charmingly, almost like a grown-up young lady. I say, “What, please?” or “I beg your pardon?” to people sometimes even when I hear perfectly what they say; and when I drink from a cup or glass I curl my little finger out in the air, for that is what I have seen fine ladies do.
Well, there I sat and drank chocolate and talked grown-up talk; and presently Karsten, warm and out of breath, came in from the kitchen.
“My! Hedvig and Dan have grown awfully little since last summer,” said he.
“Is that so? Has Hedvig, too, grown little?” asked Great-Aunt.
Yes, Karsten thought she had shrunken remarkably.