“Yes,” said Honor, though somewhat doubtfully, Katherine thought. “I—I think, though, that we shall have to be very economical even though we are going to make so much. I won’t order the jacket at Hollander’s I was thinking of. I’ll try at some cheaper place. If you think it will be very extravagant to have one made to order, I will try to find one ready made. What do you think?” She looked at Victoria as she spoke. Victoria hesitated. “I hate to say it, Honor,” she said at last, “for you are so generous and good, but it really seems as if we ought to get on with as few clothes as possible if we are so very poor. Do you—don’t you think—at least, is your last winter’s coat really hopeless? Wouldn’t it do this year?” “Why of course it would _do_,” said Honor. “It isn’t much worn, and it is plain black, but it is frightfully old-fashioned. It has immense sleeves, and they have gone down so this year; but I could have them altered at a cheap tailor’s. You are right, Vic. I won’t get a new one.” “And there are other things we might be economical in besides clothes,” continued Victoria, staring pensively at the fire. “The table, for instance.” “My dear child!” cried Honor and Katherine with one voice. “Surely you don’t think we ought to starve ourselves?” “No, of course not, but we really needn’t have quite so many things. Salad every day at dinner, for instance, and olives. And we don’t need preserves always for lunch, nor such a lot of cake made, and—oh, a great many things. When I was staying at the Carsons’ last year I noticed that they didn’t have nearly so many things as we do, and yet there was always enough, and everything was very good.” “I hate the idea of a skimpy table,” said Honor. “You know father always liked everything to be very nice. Oh no, my dear! Most of your ideas are good ones, but I really don’t think we ought to starve ourselves.” “Nor I either,” said Katherine. “I think Honor is right there. Nothing is more horrible than the idea of not having enough food on the table.” “But I don’t mean that,” persisted Victoria. “I only mean that we don’t need olives and salad and preserves to keep us from being hungry.” “The preserves don’t cost us a cent but the sugar,” said Honor. “We raise the currants and the pears and the cherries on the place, and even some of the strawberries, so there is no extravagance in turning them into preserves and eating them.” “That suggests another idea!” exclaimed Victoria. “We might sell preserves at the Woman’s Exchange or somewhere. To be sure, we have always paid a woman to do ours, but we might learn to do them ourselves, and make some money that way.” The girls discussed long and earnestly the new aspect of affairs, and their many plans for bettering their fortune, and Sophy sat up unnoticed until past her usual bedtime, so absorbed were they all in the unlooked-for problem which had been presented to them that afternoon.