“You’ll have to come and help me with the hot-bed, Lovisa,” he said. Then, remembering that Mamselle Lovisa would not even look at his garden and took no interest whatever in his work, he thought: “Oh, well, it’s said now, and she can’t do more than refuse.”
But instead she eagerly got up and went out with him. Instantly she saw the little plants, which were wilted and drooping, she exclaimed:
“The sun is too strong on them, they must be shaded.” Then she found something with which to protect them, and the plants were saved.
The next day the Lieutenant had to attend a school examination. When well on his way he suddenly remembered the hot-bed. There was the same scorching heat that day as on the previous one. Now the little plants would surely be burnt up, he thought.
The moment he got home he hurried over to the hot-bed. To his surprise and delight all was well; the plants stood up, erect and sturdy. His sister had thought of the poor little things which he had neglected. He promptly decided not to forget to water and close the hot-bed that evening. Sometime after supper he sprang up in alarm.
“Why, I’m forgetting the hot-bed! It should have been closed this long while.”
Mamselle Lovisa said nothing, but let him go see for himself. He found the glass lids down and the covers spread over them.
The following day the Lieutenant did not look at the hot-bed or give it a thought. All the same, the little plants fared well. Mamselle Lovisa weeded and loosened the soil round them, watered and tended them in every way. It seemed rather strange that only she should think of the hot-bed; but for her everything sown there would have died. Of course she wished the old gardener would return and relieve her of the work; but while he was away she had to go on with it.
He was gone longer than expected. In the meantime the plants were growing almost too large for transplanting. There was no other course than for Mamselle Lovisa to set them out in the flower beds herself. When that much had been done, what could she do but go on weeding and watering them all summer, until the gilly, petunia, aster, and snap-dragon plants were in bloom!
And when the perfectly formed star before the front steps at Mårbacka appeared resplendent with bright colours, then in some mysterious way the pain was gone from Mamselle Lovisa’s wounded heart. The little plants had requited the loving care she had bestowed upon them. They had given her a new interest in life, a new field of activity.