THE RED SHOES
That afternoon, when the old lady was told that Karen had worn red shoes at her confirmation, she was much vexed, and told Karen that they were quite unsuitable, and that, henceforward, whenever she went to church, she must wear black shoes, were they ever so old.
Next Sunday was the communion day. Karen looked first at the red shoes, then at the black ones, then at the red again, and—put them on.
It was beautiful sunshiny weather; Karen and the old lady walked to church through the corn-fields; the path was very dusty.
At the church door stood an old soldier; he was leaning on crutches, and had a marvellously long beard, not white, but reddish-hued, and he bowed almost to the earth, and asked the old lady if he might wipe the dust off her shoes. And Karen put out her little foot also. 'Oh, what pretty dancing-shoes!' quoth the old soldier; 'take care, and mind you do not let them slip off when you dance'; and he passed his hands over them.
The old lady gave the soldier a halfpenny, and then went with Karen into church.
And every one looked at Karen's red shoes; and all the carved figures, too, bent their gaze upon them; and when Karen knelt before the altar, the red shoes still floated before her eyes; she thought of them and of them only, and she forgot to join in the hymn of praise—she forgot to repeat 'Our Father.'
At last all the people came out of church, and the old lady got into her carriage. Karen was just lifting her foot to follow her, when the old soldier standing in the porch exclaimed, 'Only look, what pretty dancing-shoes!' And Karen could not help it, she felt she must make a few of her dancing steps;
