“Oh, this isn’t talking in public,” said the minister’s wife eagerly. “This is just telling people that don’t know how, how to do things that you have done yourself. I’m sure you have that gift. I’ve listened to you talking, and you’re wonderfully interesting. But would you consider giving them a reception and letting them see how you have made your house lovely? That would be a wonderful addition, and I’m sure the ladies would be delighted to pay extra for that; and we’d all come over and help you clear up afterwards, and before, too, if you would let us, although I’m sure you always look in immaculate order for a reception or anything else every time I’ve ever been here.” When the matter was finally arranged and Mrs. Kendall had left, Carey came in, scrubbed, shaved, neatly attired, and proposed that they have a sing. Maxwell, nothing loath, joined in eagerly, and sang with all his splendid voice. Then after a time he asked Cornelia to play, and before they realized it the evening was over. Not until Carey said in his casual way, “Call me at quarter to seven, will you, Nell?—and turn on the hot water when you get down; that’s a dear,” did Cornelia remember her curiosity concerning the conversation between her brother and Maxwell. Carey said nothing about it, and Cornelia was enough of a wise woman not to ask. But Carey told her the next morning. He was so excited he couldn’t keep it to himself. “Didn’t know I was going to be a salesman up at Braithwaite’s, did you?” he said quite casually between mouthfulls of breakfast. Harry paused in his chewing a second, and eyed him sceptically. “Yes, you are _not_!” he remarked scornfully, and went on chewing again. But Cornelia, eager-eyed, leaned forward. “What do you mean, Carey? Is that a fact?” “Well, just about,” said Carey, enjoying their bewilderment. “Maxwell told me the manager wants to see me this morning. Says he’s had his eye on me for three months, been looking up everything about me, and, when that picture came out in the paper, he told Maxwell he guessed I’d do. Said they wanted a man that could jump into a situation like that and handle it, a man with nerve, you know, that had his wits about him. It’s up to me now to make good. If I do, I get the job all right. It isn’t great pay to start, only thirty bucks a week; but it’s all kinds of prospects ahead if I make good. Well, so-long; wish me luck.” And Carey flung out of the house amid the delighted exclamations of his astonished family.