She became ashamed of herself presently, remembering her mother and how many years she had done all these things and more. She dried her eyes and began to clear off the table. She had barely finished when she had a visitation from the woman next door, who came beaming in to see the curtains her husband had told her about, and to ask whether Cornelia minded her having blue birds on some of her curtains if she put them on the other side of the house. Somehow the woman’s eagerness to have her home made over into an artistic one melted away some of Cornelia’s gloom, and she was able to rise to the occasion and talk with her neighbor almost as enthusiastically as if she had been really interested. Perhaps she was interested; she wasn’t sure. Anyway, it was going to be fun to get rid of ugly things in that woman’s house and substitute simple, pretty ones. When Mrs. Barkley got up to go Cornelia thought she heard faint movements up in the third story, and took heart. When she opened the door to let her neighbor out, promising to run in sometime within a day or two and look over the rooms, the sun shot out from behind a grim cloud, and flooded the damp street with glory; and Cornelia began to feel better. Carey came down whistling, and twinkling with good humor; and she hadn’t the heart to give him the reprimand he richly deserved. She smiled a good morning, and he went at the kitchen range with a good will. They had an early lunch and breakfast together, and Carey went to work at his stonework once more. It was a trifle after two o’clock when Brand Barlock arrived on the scene. Carey was down cellar picking up the last stones and poking them through the opening he had cut in the parlor floor. He was making such a racket that he did not hear the insistent honk! honk! of the horn. But Cornelia polishing off the front window where some of the wet paper of the day before had stuck, did hear; and she looked out at the expensive car with a sinking heart. That must be Brand Barlock! But surely, _surely_ Carey wouldn’t go off now in the midst of his work, when he was so anxious to finish! After several almost insolent honks of the horn, and imperious looks houseward, a boy in the back seat got out, received some brief instruction from the handsome youth who was the driver, and came and knocked at the door. Cornelia stepped into the hall, and opened the door. “Kay here?” asked the boy. “Oh!” Seeing Cornelia, he dragged off his cap perfunctorily. The boy had a pleasant face, though weak; and Cornelia smiled. If this was one of Carey’s friends, she would know him sometime, and she must make a good impression upon him. She wanted the boys to come and see Carey rather than to always be carrying him off. “Why, yes, he’s here,” said Cornelia. “But he’s awfully busy. We’re getting settled, you know. Could I give him a message?” “Why, oh, yes! Tell him Brand Barlock wants him. Tell him he wants him right away quick, please. Brand’s in an awful hurry.”