Cornelia suppressed her apprehension over the possibilities of accident both physical and financial, and bloomed with interest. Of what use would it be to reprove her brother for taking such chances? It would only make him angry, and turn him against her. She would see whether she could win him back to the old comradeship, and then there might come a time when her advice would reach him. At present it would be useless.
“It must be great to have a fine car,” she said eagerly. “I love to ride. There were two or three girls at college who had cars, and used to take us out sometimes; but of course that didn’t happen very often.”
“I’ll borrow Brand’s car and take you sometime,” he said eagerly. “He wouldn’t mind.”
“O Carey! No, you mustn’t do that!” she cried in alarm, “at least”—as she saw his frown of displeasure—“not till I know him, you know. I shouldn’t at all like to ride in a car whose owner I didn’t know. You must bring him here when we get all fixed up, and I’ll meet him. Then perhaps he’ll ask me to go along too sometime, although I’m not sure I’d like to go like a streak of lightning. Still, I’ve never tried it, and you know I never used to be afraid of things.”
“Sure, you’re all right, Nell. But I’d never bring Brand to this dump! He’s a rich man’s son, I tell you, and lives in a swell neighborhood.”
“Doesn’t he know where you live?”
Carey shrugged his shoulders.
“Oh, yes; he drives around, and honks the horn for me, and brings me home again; but I wouldn’t ask him in——”
“Wait, I say, till we get it fixed up. You know I’m an interior decorator! Oh, I wish there was just a fireplace! It makes such a cozy, cheerful place.”
“I could build one if I had the stuff,” declared Carey, interested. “What kind do you want? But then, everything costs so darned much. If I only had a job!”