“Yes,--I’m starting on an adventure--in thrift.” “I’ll go with you,” laughed Teresa. “Meet me at the headquarters of the Housewives’ League, 25 West Forty-fifth Street, Monday morning. We’re having a demonstration of meat cuts--by a butcher.” “I’ll be there,” replied Mrs. Larry promptly. She did not go alone. Claire had insisted on accompanying her. “So long as Teresa doesn’t know about--about--Jimmy’s going away as he did, we won’t have to tell her. And--and--even if I never did marry and, of course, I wouldn’t marry any one but Jimmy--I might want to do work among the poor and this would help me.” Mrs. Larry nodded her head. She was wise enough not to insinuate that welfare work would never supplant love for Jimmy in Claire’s heart. The all-important thing just now was to act as if nothing had happened between the two young people. “I love to have you with me, Claire. Perhaps I’m a little stale in the domestic light. Your fresh view-point will help me amazingly.” Stepping from the elevator they found themselves in a huge undecorated auditorium covering an entire floor of a great office building. Just ahead was a desk, where they registered in the National League, paying ten cents each and receiving in return a small button, with a navy blue rim and lettering on a white ground, “Housewives’ League.” “Wear this whenever you market,” said the secretary. “It commands respect.” Beyond the desk was a space given over to desks, tables and bookcases filled with free bulletins and literature on food values and food preparations, easy chairs and settees. Teresa Moore came bustling forward to greet them. “This,” she explained, “is the first club-room ever opened exclusively for housekeepers. Here may come any housekeeper, member of the League or not, New Yorker or suburbanite, to read our bulletins and magazines, to rest, to write notes on League stationery, to meet friends. We want to educate home-makers to the club idea, to put housekeeping on a club basis. “Way over there in the corner is the desk of our national president, Mrs. Julian Heath. Across the room is the gas demonstration, cooking, ironing, etc. And now we must hurry if we are to see the meat demonstration.” One side of the great auditorium was filled with camp chairs and groups of interested eager women. On a platform, a force of butchers and helpers were hanging up a great side of fresh beef. Near the platform were two blocks on which the meat could be cut into pieces. “Now, ladies, this is the fore-quarter--” [Illustration: “The price for this cut today is--”] A great hustling for seats and advantageous positions, whipping out of note-books and pencils, then respectful silence. Deftly one helper cut and sawed while the butcher held up cut after cut and explained their food values and their prices. Invariably he said: “The price for this cut to-day is--” showing the variability of the market.