The little girl gave the swaddling a scornful glance then looked away. She had seen such before, and did not care for them. Her thoughts were on the company with the candy bags.
“See,” said Aunt Lovisa, “this is a little sister who came to you last night, and you must be good to her.”
Here was something for which she was wholly unprepared. She would have been glad to welcome another sister—one who could walk and talk; but this swaddling did not interest her at all.
However, it was plain to her now that no grand company had come. Granny meant only the poor little baby, and she knew very well that it had not brought any candy.
She felt so bitterly disappointed that she just had to cry. Back-Kaisa was obliged to carry her out to the kitchen, lest her crying awaken the grand company.
And she had cause for tears. Her day of power and supremacy was over. Back-Kaisa had now to help Fru Lagerlöf with the care of the little newcomer, who was even more helpless and lost, as it were, than Selma. One couldn’t reason with the baby, so it was always she, Selma, who had to be patient, and wait.
From that time on they were not so keen about showing her to company. Now it was the swaddling that was brought forward to be seen and praised. All the glamour and greatness had dropped from her; she was no more now than Anna or Johan.
The year that followed she had many distressing experiences. She had not only to give up living exclusively on a diet of pastry and preserves, but things even went so far that when Fru Lagerlöf served her boiled carrots, or spinach, or pease-pods, no one removed her plate and brought her other fare. She had to eat what was set before her. If Anna received a prettier dress than Selma no one protested. On the contrary, they all thought it only fair, since Anna was the eldest daughter.
Ah, sometimes her heart sank way down into her boots, for she was not altogether certain that Back-Kaisa did not care just as much for the wee one as she did for her.