Carey returned early in the afternoon with an elastic step and a light of triumph in his face. He had been engaged as a salesman in one of the largest firms in the country, a business dealing with tools and machinery and requiring a wide grasp of various engineering branches. He was just in his element. He had been born with the instinct for machinery and mechanics. He loved everything connected with them. Also he was a leader and a natural mixer among men. All these things Maxwell later told Cornelia had counted in his favor. The fact that he was not a college man had been the only drawback; but after the accident, and after the manager had had a long, searching talk with him, it had been decided that Carey had natural adaptability and hereditary culture enough to overcome that lack; and they voted to try him. The manager felt that there was good material in him. Maxwell did not tell Cornelia that what he had told the manager concerning her ability and initiative had had much to do with influencing the decision. The manager was a keen man. He knew a live family when he saw it; and, when he heard what Cornelia had accomplished in her little home, he was keen to see the brother. He felt that he also might be a genius! Now if Carey could only make good! CHAPTER XXV It was a wonderful day of June skies and roses. Maxwell had sent a note by special messenger to Cornelia to say that two world-tennis champions were to play at the Cricket Grounds that afternoon and would she like to go? If so he would call for her at two o’clock. So Cornelia had baked macaroni and cheese, roasted some apples and made a chocolate cornstarch pudding. There was cold meat in the refrigerator, and she wrote a note to Louise in case she should be late. She looked very pretty and slim in her dark blue crêpe de chene made over with an odd little idea in pockets to cover where it had to be pieced. She resurrected an old dark blue hat with a becoming brim, re-dyed it and wreathed it with a row of little pale pink velvet roses. Nobody would ever have guessed that the roses were old ones that had been cleaned and retouched with the paint brush till they glowed like new ones. She added a string of queer Chinese beads that one of the girls at college had given her, and looked as chic and pretty as any girl could desire when Maxwell called for her. His eyes showed their admiration as he came up the steps and found her ready, waiting for him, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, her eyes starry, little rings of brown hair blowing out here and there about her face. “That’s a nice hat,” he said contentedly, his eyes taking in her whole harmonious costume, “New one isn’t it? At least I never saw it before.” He noted with pleasure that her complexion was not applied. “A real girl!” he was saying to himself in a kind of inner triumph! “A _real_ girl! What a fool I used to be!”