Mr. Larry, who had been opening his evening paper, laid it down, turned to his wife and spoke seriously. “You know, little woman, when I hear your friends roasting their help for carelessness and extravagance, I often wonder where the fault really lies. If the mistress buys supplies in small quantities, or if she is extravagant, how can she expect the maid to fight her bad management with thrift? The girl is far more apt to say, ‘Oh, what’s the use for me to save what my mistress will waste in the end?’ “I have been watching Lena since you commenced your investigations in thrift, and, in her stolid way, she is tremendously impressed. She attacks her work in a more businesslike fashion, and she certainly regards you with increased respect.” At the last word Mrs. Larry shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that. Sometimes she questions my marketing abilities. Do you remember the other morning when we were starting for Montclair, she asked, ‘What is the use of paying more for rice in package than in bulk if they both have to be washed?’” Mr. Larry’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, she had you fussed for a minute.” “And she gave me something to think about--is the habit of buying package goods economical or extravagant?” “Why don’t you find out? Buy both kinds and see which has the better flavor. Weigh, measure and compare.” “I will,” said Mrs. Larry firmly. “I’ll start to-morrow morning. And here’s an adventure in thrift which Claire must make with me. I’ll telephone her this minute.” But she paused with her hand on the receiver-- “I remembered just in time to save five cents. Claire is going to the Bryant dance.” At that very instant the bell rang and Claire came in, a vision in coral tulle. “How’de, everybody!” She paused, in sudden embarrassment, the color mounting to her softly waved black hair. Mr. Larry studied her with approving glance. “Stunning, Claire. Whether it cost fifty dollars or five hundred.” “Less than fifty. Oh, I’m learning,” she said with a happy little laugh. “It was awfully good of you to let me see it before you had danced some of the freshness out of it,” said Mrs. Larry. “Oh, I just had to come. You see----” She stopped--and again the beautiful color flooded her face. “Of course,” said Mrs. Larry, as, sensing the need of greater privacy, she slipped her hand through Claire’s arm and led her down to the guest room. “But first, let me catch up your hair a bit.” Mr. Larry, all unconscious that the spirit of romance had tripped into the apartment with the coral-tinted vision, buried himself in his paper. Safe on the other side of the guest room door, Mrs. Larry held the radiant girl a little closer. “Claire, dear, what has come over you?” “This,” answered Claire in a voice that trembled with happiness. She held out her hand, and in the soft light from a silk-shaded electrolier Mrs. Larry caught the gleam of the diamond which had traveled to Kansas City and back. “Is Jimmy here?” she asked.