Carey was in charming spirits. When he awoke, he had found two new shirts and two pairs of silk socks by his bedside “with love from Cornelia,” and a handkerchief and necktie apiece from each of the children; and he came down with uproarious thanks to greet them. Mr. Copley, thus reminded of the occasion got up before he had finished his first cup of coffee, and went into the living room to the desk. When he came back, he carried a check in his hand made out to Carey.
“There, son, that’s from mother and me for that new suit you need,” he said in a voice warm with feeling. “I meant to get around to it last night, but somehow the date slipped me.”
And Carey taken unaware, was almost embarrassed, rising with the check in his hand and his color coming and going like a girl.
“Why Dad! Really, Dad! You ought not to do this now. I’m an old chump that I haven’t earned one long ago. Take it back, Dad; you’ll need it for mother. I’ll take the thought just the same.”
“No, that’s all right, son; you earn the next one,” said the father with a touch on his son’s arm almost like a caress.
And so the little party separated with joy on every face, and went their separate ways. Carey was still working at the garage. He had been secretly saving up to buy a second-hand automobile that he knew was for sale, excusing the desire by saying it would be good for his mother to ride in when she came home; but now he suddenly saw that his ambition was selfish and that what he must first do was to get a job where he could help his father and pay his board at home. To that end he resolved to hand twenty-five dollars to Cornelia that very night if he could get it out of Pat, and start the new year aright, telling her it was board money.
He promised most solemnly to be at home in time to “fix up” before supper, and Cornelia went about the day’s preparations with a light heart. There seemed a reasonable amount of hope that the young man himself would be likely to be on hand at his own birthday party. Having secured the two most likely sources of other engagements, Clytie and Brand, there didn’t seem much else that could happen to upset her plans.
The birthday cake had been a regular angel the way it rose and stayed risen when it got there, and blushed a lovely biscuit brown, and took its icing smoothly. It was even now reposing in state in the bread-box ready for its candles, which Louise was to add when she returned from school at noon. Both children were coming home at noon, and Harry was not going to the grocery that day.
Cornelia had put the whole house in apple-pie order the day before, made the cake and the gelatin salad, and had done all the marketing. The day looked easy ahead of her. She set the biscuit, and tucked them up in a warm corner, washed the spinach in many waters, and left it in its last cold bath getting crisp, with the lettuce in a stone jar doing the same thing. Then she sat down with a silver spoon, a sharp knife, a big yellow bowl, and a basket of fruit to prepare the fruit cocktail.
While she was doing this, Grace Kendall ran in with her arms full of lovely roses that had been sent to her mother that morning. She said her mother wished to share them with the Copleys. Grace put the flowers into water and sat down with another spoon to help. Before long the delicious pink and gold mixture was put away on the ice all ready for night. Grace helped scrape the potatoes and dust the living room, then went home promising to be on hand early and help entertain the strange guests. Somehow Grace seemed to understand all about both of them and to be tremendously interested in the whole affair. Cornelia went about her pretty living room putting the last touches everywhere, setting a blue bowl of roses at just the right angle on the table, putting an especially lovely half-open bud in a tall, slender glass on the bookcase, pushing a chair into place, turning a magazine and a book into inviting positions. She kept thinking how glad she was for this new girl friend, this girl who, though a little younger, yet seemed to understand so well. She sighed as she touched the roses lovingly, and recognized a fleeting impossible wish that her brother might have chosen to be interested in a girl like this one instead of the gum-chewing, ill-bred child with whom he seemed to be pairing off.