There, I don't want to know any more about you.

I only say that you're just the lad for over yonder, and your father will be delighted.

Now, then: ask me anything you like." "May I ?" "To be sure." "Then what is my mother like now ?" "Look yonder," said the lady, pointing to a great mirror.

"Now think of your face made thinner and more delicate, and with soft curls of silky grey hair, beside a very white forehead; and a gentle expression, not a hard look, like yours.

That's your mother." "And my father ?" cried Nic eagerly.
"Look again," said the lady, "and fancy your face in thirty years' time, with dark grey hair, all in little rough half-curls, and a great many lines in the brown skin all over the forehead, and about the eyes." "Yes," said Nic eagerly, as he stared at himself.
"And a look of a man who is strong as a horse; and that's all.