“O Nellie, Nellie, how did you do it?” they cried when they saw her. “Isn’t this great? Isn’t it wonderful?” And then, with a look at the yawning cavity in the floor where the fireplace was to be: “Oh what will Carey say? Why doesn’t he come home?” And that night after they were all in bed Carey came. Even the children heard the car drive up to the door, and the whole little shabby house seemed to be straining every alert nerve to listen. Carey came whistling a jazzy little tune up the path, with a careless happy-go-lucky swag, not at all like the prodigal son that he was, with the whole family in a long three days’ agony over him. It was almost virtuous, that whistle and the way he subdued it as he unlocked the dining-room door and groped his way through the dark to where the foot of the stairs used to be. They heard him strike a match; and then, as if they had all been down there to watch him, they could visualize his amazed face as he stood in the little halo of the match, and looked around him at the strange room, and the strange staircase with a turn in the stairs and only one rail up yet, and a platform. They heard him strike another match, and then they heard his footsteps and more matches as he walked around looking. Cornelia knew when he sighted the bay window and the seats under the two windows by the fireplace. She heard the gentle thud of the top as he opened it and closed it again. She heard the soft whistle of approval, and drew a long breath of relief. At least he was interested. She knew that the little sister heard too and was following Carey’s every movement; for she felt the quick grip of the little hand on her shoulder, and the soft, tense breath against her cheek; and somehow it gave her courage and strength. With all the family united in loving anxiety for him, surely, _surely_ Carey would be saved and made a good man. She found herself praying again: “O God, reach him, save him, show him! Help us to know what to do for him.” Afterwards she thought about it, and wondered at herself, and resolved to pray regularly again, even if just to pray for Carey. It was so necessary that Carey be saved and made a good man. It was necessary just for their mother’s sake, and it must be done before she came home, or she would be likely to get sick again worrying about him. Carey came slowly up the stairs, and went to his room. The family listened to his movements overhead, listened for his shoes to fall, and then to the creak of the springs as he at last got into bed. Listened longer as the springs continued to creak while Carey rolled around, settling himself—thinking, perhaps?—and then at last when all was still they slept.