"Whew! That is getting along faster than I had anticipated. May I be permitted to know who is to be my son-in-law? I think I can guess, however."
"Who?"
"Mr. Bradley."
Mr. Bradley was an old bachelor, of about fifty, partially bald and more than partially homely, who had now and then dined with Mr. Bowman and had taken more notice of the young lady than she at all desired.
"Mr. Bradley!" repeated Bert, in a contemptuous manner. "I'd a good deal rather marry Topsy."
"Perhaps," suggested her father, "the superior length of the kitten's whiskers causes you to give her the preference. Am I to understand that she is your choice?"
"No, it is a very handsome boy, and his name is Charlie Codman."
A look of regret stole over Mrs. Codman's face—the expression of a sorrow caused by her uncertainty with regard to Charlie's fate.
"A son of yours?" asked Mr. Bowman, in some surprise.