“I—I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Jerry,” she said. “I’ll stay here with you a little while—if you really want me—just a little while—and I’ll pay you the money that father gives me for my board.” “Sal and I get pretty rocky sometimes,” said Jerry reflectively; “a regular income will fit in O. K. But a little while has got to stretch out, Joy.” Before she realized that things had been decided, she was being transported down the hall, with Jerry telling her that she could send for her luggage. “You don’t mind having the maid’s room, do you? It’s just called the maid’s room—we never have been known to have a maid—we chew on delicatessen delicacies when we don’t bum our meals.” The maid’s room was striking to incoherency. It had started out with some uncompromising black walnut furniture which had certainly been compromised. The room had been recklessly done over in swift black and white effects, behind which the solid furniture pieces lurked and frowned. Just as Jerry dashed over to lift the black and white striped shades, a bell rang loudly and she struck a despairing pose: “And me not fully out of bed yet!” she wailed. “Where’s Sarah?” Joy questioned. “Sal? Asleep,—this is one of the days when we stoke up energy for the times to come.” The bell rang again. “Oh, what periwinkle has the nerve at this hour——” “I’ll go,” and Joy started through the hall again. But Jerry pushed her aside as they reached the reception room. “I might as well slide it open first as last,” she said, and marched down to the door, purple kimono flying in the breeze, pink mules clicking on the hardwood floor. She jerked open the door, and two young men almost fell in. “Shiver your timbers, Jerry! If you aren’t always up to the meanest tricks,” complained the first to recover, a pink-faced youth with an expansive grin and inquisitive, cocky ears. “Here I lean up against your door—only solid thing I’ve met to-day that would stand up against me—and Packy leans on _me_,—and then you come and take it right away—take away our only—only and sole means of support!” Packy, a tall, gangly stripling with a roving eye, looked past Jerry to where Joy was standing, while chanting solemnly: “How are we, Jerry? We thought we’d drop by—drop in—for a few minutes’ bicker. Twinky has been inhalin’ ’em down right an’ left, an’ things are gettin’ a bit sticky over at the hall——Wait till I slip you the glad tale! Who’s the houri?” “Friend of mine, come to live here,” said Jerry shortly. “Joy, these are two gay young college boys. You can tell that just to look at ’em.” Packy and Twinky, by this time abreast of Joy, were looking at her in about the most open admiration she had ever seen. “What’d you say her name was? Joy?” questioned Packy. “One of the best I’ve heard in a long time. Has she got any other good names?”