"Yes," said the young lady of ten, "Charlie Morrill offered himself the other day, and I refused him."
"What is the world coming to?" thought Mr. Bowman. "Why did you refuse him?"
"Because," said Bert, soberly, "I don't like the way he parts his hair. But as for Julia's governess, I know she never had an offer. She's as homely as—as—well, I don't know who. Then she wears glasses, and has a nose ever so long, and a long face, and she never smiles, and she makes Julia study terrible hard."
And Bert drew a long breath.
"Not a very charming picture, certainly," said Mr. Bowman; "but I'll promise you that, if the lady who applies for the post of governess to-day should be anything like this, I won't engage her."
"That's right, papa. When do you expect her?"
"Let me see. She was to be here at nine, and now it wants only ten minutes of that time."
"And you won't send me out of the room, papa, will you?"
Mr. Bowman hesitated.
"You know I am very anxious to see how she looks. If I like her, I will make a sign to you, and then you can engage her."