“Why on earth not?” “Because I want so dreadfully to be grown up.” “Well, you can’t go on moping for the next seven years, my dear.” “Will I be grown up in seven years?” Letizia asked, brightening. “That isn’t so very long, is it? I’m more than half-way already.... Mother?” she resumed. “Yes?” “When does a bearded lady begin to grow a beard? I couldn’t suddenly become a bearded lady, could I, when I was grown up?” “Of course not, you noodle.” “You’re quite sure?” Letizia pressed. “Positive.” “The bearded lady was very nice when I shook hands with her,” said Letizia pensively. “But I wouldn’t much like to kiss her if I was a man, would you?” “Not at all,” Nancy declared with a grimace. “Mother?” “What now?” “Do you think she’d mind if I asked her if she had any bits of beard when she was eleven?” “No, darling, I don’t want you to meet those freaks again. I can’t think why Mr. Drake ever introduced you to them. It was very naughty of him.” Letizia turned a pale and reproachful face to her mother. “I think Mr. Drake is the nicest man who ever lived,” she proclaimed solemnly. Then in a voice that strove to to be nonchalant, she asked how old he was. “About forty-five.” “Mother?” “Still another puzzle for poor me?” “Is fifty-two frightfully old for a man to be?” “Very old indeed.” “Too old to marry?” “Much too old,” said Nancy decidedly. Letizia uttered a sigh of unutterable despair, and in spite of everything that her mother could do, in spite of a boisterous visit from Mrs. Pottage to Hastings, she remained in a state of gloom all through the summer holidays. Moreover, Sister Catherine wrote to Nancy half-way through the next term that she was so worried about Letizia’s health that she thought it would be wise if she went to Belgium early in the New Year, as London did not seem to be suiting her. Nancy wondered if she should say anything about her unfortunate passion for a middle-aged actor, but decided that it might give a wrong impression to the nuns and kept silence. She was glad she had, when soon after Letizia’s arrival in Belgium she received a letter full of excitement and good spirits. The sickness of love was evidently cured. But that it could endure so long at the age of eleven made Nancy a little anxious about her daughter’s emotional future. Four years passed while Letizia was at school in Belgium. There were changes among the Sisters of the Holy Infancy. Mother Mary Ethelreda died and was laid to rest in the soil which her ancestors had held long ago by the sword. Sister Catherine was elected mother-superior. Sister Rose became head-mistress of St. Joseph’s. There were no changes in Nancy’s existence apart from the change every week from one town to another. She never heard of Kenrick nowadays. He had passed out of her life as if he had never been. Mrs. Pottage was growing old, and for the first time since Bram’s death Nancy visited Starboard Alley to celebrate the old lady’s seventieth birthday.