"You never can tell what is going to happen," she said. "Look at me, for instance. What could have been more miraculous than the thing that happened to me, Freddie? Who could have ever dreamed of Mr. Diggs falling in love with me? An important person like him falling heels over head in love with the likes of me! Can you beat it? Well, that's what I mean when I say you never can tell. You just keep a stiff upper lip, Freddie--and grow a little, of course--and it wouldn't surprise me in the least if you conquered the proud Miss Fairweather's haughty heart. Nothing--NOTHING on God's earth would surprise me now. Go in and win, Freddie. Of course, she is about twelve years older'n you are at present, but as time goes on she'll be getting younger. We always do. By the time you are thirty you will have caught up to her, I can tell you that. Take Mr. Diggs, for instance; he thinks I am only twenty-six. He says it's a crime for a man of his age--he's thirty-seven--to be making eyes at a soft young thing like me. He knows I'm only twenty-six, but what he don't know is that I was born nearly ten years before he even starts to counting. Now, in a very few years you will be twenty. Well, by that time she will be only eight years older than you are. You see, women don't put on years as rapidly as men. It's a peculiar trick of nature. I don't suppose there is another living creature in all God's dominion that lives as long as a woman does before it can get past thirty. Take Miss Stokes, the nurse, for instance. She's been nearly nine years going from twenty-seven to twenty-nine. So there you are. You just keep on growing up, Freddie--you needn't hurry, either--putting on a year every twelve months, and before you know it you'll be six months older than Miss Fairweather. Then--" "Yes, but how about this big Flanders?" protested Frederick. "He's already grown-up and--" "Nothing to it," said Melissa, "He hasn't got any money. He can't give her diamonds and fine raiment. He's got to ask her to wait till he's able to marry, hasn't he? Well, while she's about it, why shouldn't she wait for you? It all amounts to the same thing. You'll be able to marry her just as soon as he is. Now, don't be discouraged. Cheer up." "You're awfully good, Melissa," said Frederick gloomily. "And what's more, don't let 'em guy you about her. Mr. Diggs don't let any one guy him about me, you can bet. And say, if you can manage to sneak one of Mr. Bingle's razors out of his room some day, I'll shave you. There's nothing like getting your whiskers started early." "Gee, Melissa, will you?" "Like a shot. Let me feel your chin. Why, I swear to goodness, there's something there already. It's--" "Honest, Melissa? Do you really mean it? I thought it was only fuzz." "Fuzz your granny," said Melissa stoutly. "In a couple of months you could get a beard like a billy goat if you shaved regular." "I don't want chin whiskers. I want a moustache."