“Daughter, Mr. Maxwell has come four miles out of his way to bring those ferns, and it will be late before he gets any dinner. He ought to stay. I told him he was welcome.”
Cornelia’s cheeks flamed, but a smile came into her eyes.
“We shall be very glad to have you stay,” she urged gently, “unless—some one else is waiting for you.”
A quick flush mounted into the young man’s face and he suddenly felt strangely loath to have this clear-eyed girl think that anyone was waiting for him. He would not like her to know what kind of girl was expecting his coming.
“Oh, it’s not that”—he managed to say lamely, “but I simply couldn’t think of butting into a family party like this.” His eyes glanced about questioningly, hesitating at Brand and pausing with a reflective wonder at Clytie in the background.
“But it’s not a family party,” said Cornelia laughingly; “it’s just a few friends called in to help us celebrate my brother’s birthday, and—they don’t even know one another very well yet; so won’t you come in and be another? We really would be glad to have you, and we’ll try to make you feel at home. We’re not a bit formal or formidable. Let me introduce my brother Carey. Carey, come here and meet Mr. Maxwell. You remember my telling how nice his mother was to me on the way home from college.”
She was talking fast, and the pretty color was in her cheeks. She was aware that the stranger was watching her admiringly. Her heart was thumping and the blood was surging through her ears so that it seemed as though she could not hear anything but her own high-pitched voice, and she wanted nothing so much as to break out crying and run and hide. Would Carey come, or would he——
Carey came, dazed, but polite. He was well dressed and groomed, and he knew it. He had no objection to meeting a pleasant stranger who owned a car like the one he had seen drive up at the door before he had left his room. Carey had a habit of judging a man by his car. The two young men appraised each other pleasantly, and there seemed to be a mutual liking. Then suddenly Brand Barlock, never allowing himself long to be left out of consideration, came noisily over to the group, and slapped Carey on the back.
“Hello, old man! Got a birthday, have you?”
“Oh, hello, Brand! Forgot you were here. Saw your car out the window. Meet Mr. Maxwell, Mr. Barlock,” and the two acknowledged the introduction.