But before she could speak the door flew open and in there swept the thirteenth fairy, who had not been invited. She had an ugly frown on her face, and looked so angry that every one drew back to let her pass. Straight up to the baby she went, and she looked crossly at the little beautiful face.
‘You shall have my gift, though I was not invited to the christening,’ she said with a spiteful smile. ‘When you are fifteen years old, you shall prick your finger with a spindle and fall down dead.’
Then she cast an evil look all round, and flew out of the window.
