"This, sir," said Mr. Vincent Crummles, bringing the Maiden forward, "This is the Infant Phenomenon--Miss Ninetta Crummles."
"Your daughter?" inquired Nicholas.
"My daughter--my daughter," replied Mr. Crummles; "the idol of every place we go into, sir. We have had complimentary letters about this girl, sir, from the nobility and gentry of almost every town in England."
"I am not surprised at that," said Nicholas; "she must be quite a natural genius."
"Quite a--!" Mr. Crummles stopped: language was not powerful enough to describe the Infant Phenomenon. "I'll tell you what, sir," he said; "the talent of this child is not to be imagined. She must be seen, sir--seen--to be ever so faintly appreciated. There; go to your mother, my dear."
"May I ask how old she is?" inquired Nicholas.
"You may, sir," replied Mr. Crummles, "She is ten years of age, sir,"
"Not more?"
"Not a day."
"Dear me," said Nicholas, "it's extraordinary."