And when I asked Mother if she'd seen it, she said she'd given it back to Theresa, and that I mustn't ask for it again.

That I wasn't old enough yet to read such stories.
There it is again! I'm not old enough.

When _will_ I be allowed to take my proper place in life?
Echo answers when.
Well, to resume and go on.
What was I talking about?
Oh, I know--the prospective suitors.

(Aunt Hattie can't hear me when I just _write_ it, anyway.) Well, they all come just as they used to, only there are more of them now--two fat men, one slim one, and a man with a halo of hair round a bald spot.
Oh, I don't mean that any of them are really suitors yet.

They just come to call and to tea, and send her flowers and candy.