The professor of mathematics nodded.
"Then that accounts for eight years," said the soldier.
"I don't see that at all," exclaimed the artist.
"It's easy enough," the soldier explained. "The year 1800 isn't a leap-year, you know. We have a leap-year every four years, except the final year of a century—1700, 1800, 1900."
"I didn't know that," said the artist.
"I'd forgotten it," remarked the journalist. "But that gets us over only half of the difficulty. He says his grandmother didn't have a birthday till she was sixteen. We can all see now how it was she went without this annual luxury for the first eight years. But who robbed her of the birthdays she was entitled to when she was eight and twelve. That's what I want to know."
"Born February 29, 1796, the Gregorian calendar deprives her of a birthday in 1800," the soldier said. "But she ought to have had her first chance February 29, 1804. I don't see how——" and he paused in doubt. "Oh!" he cried, suddenly; "where was she living in 1804?"
"Most of the time in Russia," the mathematician answered. "Although the family went to England for a few days early in the year."
"What was the date when they left Russia?" asked the soldier, eagerly.
"They sailed from St. Petersburg in a Russian bark on the 10th of February," answered the professor of mathematics, "and owing to head-winds they did not reach England for a fortnight."