“Then she’s got it all before her,” said Anna-Rose.

“Like us,” said Anna-Felicitas.

“I shouldn’t think she’d got as much of it before her as you,” said Mr. Twist, “because she’s considerably more grown up—­I mean,” he added hastily, as Anna-Rose’s mouth opened, “she’s less—­well, less completely young.”

“We’re not completely young,” said Anna-Rose with dignity.  “People are completely young the day they’re born, and ever after that they spend their time becoming less so.”

“Exactly.  And my sister has been becoming less so longer than you have.  I assure you that’s all I meant.  She’s less so even than I am.”

“Then,” said Anna-Rose, glancing at that part of Mr. Twist’s head where it appeared to be coming through his hair, “she must have got to the stage when one is called a maiden lady.”

“And if she were a German,” said Anna-Felicitas suddenly, who hadn’t till then said anything to Mr. Twist but only smiled widely at him whenever he happened to look her way, “she wouldn’t be either a lady or a maiden, but just an It.  It’s very rude of Germans, I think,” went on Anna-Felicitas, abstractedly smiling at the cake Mr. Twist was offering her, “never to let us be anything but Its till we’ve taken on some men.”

Mr. Twist expressed surprise at this way of describing marriage, and inquired of Anna-Felicitas what she knew about Germans.

“The moment you leave off being sea-sick, Anna-F.,” said Anna-Rose, turning to her severely, “you start being indiscreet.  Well, I suppose,” she added with a sigh to Mr. Twist, “you’d have had to know sooner or later.  Our name is Twinkler.”

She watched him to see the effect of this, and Mr. Twist, perceiving he was expected to say something, said that he didn’t mind that anyhow, and that he could bear something worse in the way of revelations.

“Does it convey nothing to you?” asked Anna-Rose, astonished, for in Germany the name of Twinkler was a mighty name, and even in England it was well known.

Mr. Twist shook his head.  “Only that it sounds cheerful,” he said.

Anna-Rose watched his face.  “It isn’t only Twinkler,” she said, speaking very distinctly.  “It’s von Twinkler.”

“That’s German,” said Mr. Twist; but his face remained serene.

“Yes.  And so are we.  That is, we would be if it didn’t happen that we weren’t.”

“I don’t think I quite follow,” said Mr. Twist.

“It is very difficult,” agreed Anna-Rose.  “You see, we used to have a German father.”

“But only because our mother married him,” explained Anna-Felicitas.  “Else we wouldn’t have.”

“And though she only did it once,” said Anna-Rose, “ages ago, it has dogged our footsteps ever since.”

“It’s very surprising,” mused Anna-Felicitas, “what marrying anybody does.  You go into a church, and before you know where you are, you’re all tangled up with posterity.”