On the very day her mother was buried, Karen received the red shoes, and wore them for the first time.  They were certainly not intended for mourning, but she had no others, and with stockingless feet she followed the poor straw coffin in them.

Suddenly a large old carriage drove up, and a large old lady sat in it:  she looked at the little girl, felt compassion for her, and then said to the clergyman: 

“Here, give me the little girl.  I will adopt her!”

And Karen believed all this happened on account of the red shoes, but the old lady thought they were horrible, and they were burnt.  But Karen herself was cleanly and nicely dressed; she must learn to read and sew; and people said she was a nice little thing, but the looking-glass said:  “Thou art more than nice, thou art beautiful!”

Now the queen once travelled through the land, and she had her little daughter with her.  And this little daughter was a princess, and people streamed to the castle, and Karen was there also, and the little princess stood in her fine white dress, in a window, and let herself be stared at; she had neither a train nor a golden crown, but splendid red morocco shoes.  They were certainly far handsomer than those Dame Shoemaker had made for little Karen.  Nothing in the world can be compared with red shoes.

Now Karen was old enough to be confirmed; she had new clothes and was to have new shoes also.  The rich shoemaker in the city took the measure of her little foot.  This took place at his house, in his room; where stood large glass-cases, filled with elegant shoes and brilliant boots.  All this looked charming, but the old lady could not see well, and so had no pleasure in them.  In the midst of the shoes stood a pair of red ones, just like those the princess had worn.  How beautiful they were!  The shoemaker said also they had been made for the child of a count, but had not fitted.

“That must be patent leather!” said the old lady.  “They shine so!”

“Yes, they shine!” said Karen, and they fitted, and were bought, but the old lady knew nothing about their being red, else she would never have allowed Karen to have gone in red shoes to be confirmed.  Yet such was the case.

Everybody looked at her feet; and when she stepped through the chancel door on the church pavement, it seemed to her as if the old figures on the tombs, those portraits of old preachers and preachers’ wives, with stiff ruffs, and long black dresses, fixed their eyes on her red shoes.  And she thought only of them as the clergyman laid his hand upon her head, and spoke of the holy baptism, of the covenant with God, and how she should be now a matured Christian; and the organ pealed so solemnly; the sweet children’s voices sang, and the old music-directors sang, but Karen only thought of her red shoes.

In the afternoon, the old lady heard from everyone that the shoes had been red, and she said that it was very wrong of Karen, that it was not at all becoming, and that in future Karen should only go in black shoes to church, even when she should be older.