“Oh, does he?” Cornelia’s color rose brightly. “I certainly wish we could afford to have some work done. There are two windows I need badly, and a partition I want down; but I can’t do it now. Perhaps later, when mother gets home from the hospital, and we’re not under such heavy expense, we can manage it.” The neighbor eyed her thoughtfully. “Be nice if you could have ’em done when she got back,” she suggested. “Your mother looked to be an awful sweet woman. I saw her when she come here first, and I said to my husband, I said: ‘Jim, them’s nice people. It does one good to have a woman like that livin’ next door, she’s so lady-like and pretty, don’t you know, and so kinda sweet.’ I was awful sorry when I heard she had to go to the hospital. Say, she certainly did look white when they took her away. My! but ain’t she fortunate she’s got a daughter old enough to fill her place? You been to college, ain’t you? My! but that’s fine! Well, say, I’ll tell Jim about it. Mebbe he could do your work for you nights if you wasn’t in a hurry, and then it wouldn’t come so high, you know. It would be nice if you could get it all fixed up for your ma when she comes back, Jim wouldn’t mind when you paid him, you know. I’ll tell him to come in and look it over when he gets in this afternoon, anyhow.” “Oh!” said Cornelia, taking a quick breath of astonishment. “Oh, really I don’t believe you better. Of course, I might manage part of what I want if it didn’t cost too much, but I’ve heard all building is very high now.” She was making a lightning calculation, and thinking of the money she had brought back from college. Would it—could she? Ought she? It would be so nice if she dared! “That’s all right. You’re a neighbor and Jim wouldn’t mind doing a good turn. He’d make it as cheap as he could. It won’t cost nothing for him to look it over, anyhow. I’ll tell him when he comes back. My goodness! I smell that bread burning. Excuse me, I must go in”; and the neighbor vanished, leaving Cornelia bewildered and a trifle upset, and immediately certain that she ought not to allow the woman to send in her husband. Well, she would think it over, and run in later to tell her it was impossible. That was clearly the only thing to do. So she hurried back to put on the irons, for her curtains would soon be dry enough to iron, and she wanted to get them stencilled and up as soon as possible, the windows looked so bare and staring, especially up in Carey’s room. CHAPTER IX