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Her role as a historian is evidenced by her works on-

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Wanda was almost eight years old now, going by Galactic Standard Time -as everyone did. She was quite the little lady-grave in manner, with straight light-brown hair. Her eyes were blue but were darkening and she might well end with the brown eyes of her father.

She sat there, lost in thought. Sixty.

That was the number that preoccupied her. Grandfather was going to have a birthday and it was going to be his sixtieth-and sixty was a large number. It bothered her because yesterday she had had a bad dream about it.

She went in search of her mother. She would have to ask.

Her mother was not hard to find. She was talking to Grandfather-about the birthday surely. Wanda hesitated. It wouldn't be nice to ask in front of Grandfather.

Her mother had no trouble whatever sensing Wanda's consternation. She said, "One minute, Hari, and let's see what's bothering Wanda. What is it, dear?"

Wanda pulled at her hand. "Not here, Mother. Private."

Manella turned to Hari Seldon. "See how early it starts? Private lives. Private problems. Of course, Wanda, shall we go to your room?"

"Yes, Mother." Wanda was clearly relieved.

Hand in hand, they went and then her mother said, "Now what is the problem, Wanda?"

"It's Grandfather, Mother."

"Grandfather! I can't imagine him doing anything to bother you."

"Well, he is." Wanda's eyes filled with sudden tears. "Is he going to die?"

"Your grandfather? What put that into your head, Wanda?"

"He's going to be sixty. That's so old."

"No, it isn't. It's not young, but it's not old, either. People live to be eighty, ninety, even a hundred-and your grandfather is strong and healthy. He'll live a long time."

"Are you sure?" She was sniffing.

Manella grasped her daughter by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. "We must all die someday, Wanda. I've explained that to you before. Just the same, we don't worry about it till the someday is much closer." She wiped Wanda's eyes gently. "Grandfather is going to stay alive till you're all grown up and have babies of your own. You'll see. Now come back with me. I want you to talk to Grandfather."

Wanda sniffed again.

Seldon looked at the little girl with a sympathetic expression on her return and said, "What is it, Wanda? Why are you unhappy?"

Wanda shook her head.

Seldon turned his gaze to the girl's mother. "Well, what is it, Manella?"

Manella shook her head. "She'll have to tell you herself."

Seldon sat down and tapped his lap. "Come, Wanda. Have a seat and tell me your troubles."

She obeyed and wriggled a bit, then said, "I'm scared."

Seldon put his arm around her. "Nothing to be scared of in your old grandfather."

Manella made a face. "Wrong word."

Seldon looked up at her. "Grandfather?"

"No. Old."

That seemed to break the dike. Wanda burst into tears. "You're old, Grandfather."

"I suppose so. I'm sixty." He bent his face down to Wanda's and whispered, "I don't like it, either, Wanda. That's why I'm glad you're only seven going on eight."

"Your hair is white, Grandpa."

"It wasn't always. It just turned white recently."