“Was the surprise something to eat, Janie?” asked Judith as they entered the dimly lighted dining room. One end of the long table had been taken over by one trio, while down the board in groups of twos, students and transients, were either partaking of or arranging their “individual” meals. Each girl did her own cooking and serving, unless she shared the task with a friend on the “co-op,” this being short for co-operative plan. “Well, we did fetch some choice tid-bits,” Jane acknowledged, “and my paper bag broke, spilling the loveliest gooy-goo eclairs. Tim, the elevator boy, looked at me first fiercely, then as he scented the mix-up he smiled and——” “Since then he has licked it up,” contributed the irrepressible Judith. “I don’t blame him. Yum—yum, Jane, you are a born housekeeper. You may have my next shift.” “Judith Stearns, if you attempt to duck your household responsibility once more we shall expel you. See if we don’t. I have a mind right now to curtail your rations, and make you eat your pie without cheese.” “Spare me,” pleaded Judith, “I might manage meat without spuds, but pie without cheese——” Helen was enjoying the persiflage and serving her savory dishes at the same time. A well-balanced menu was the pride of Jane and her housekeeping. She had taken one course in domestic science, and the knowledge thus acquired she was trying on, as Judith put it. “Think of home-made baked potatoes!” Jane exclaimed, as Helen untied the dainty little linen cover that hid the important vitamine dish. “Oh, yes, and I will eat all the skin, Jane, so don’t trouble to admonish me. I know the salts are in the skin, and I need the vitamines.” “What you need more than vits, Judy, are calories. You plainly need energy. As I recall the lesson, it says, an average person requires from two thousand three hundred, to three thousand five hundred calories daily. The lesser amount is given to desk workers, and the greater to the manuals, but as you are neither I should say you might need five thousand daily, then we might reasonably expect you to do your own K. P., all of which sounds like a Liberty Loan speech, doesn’t it?” “Janie Allen, since you are so expert, maybe you know that you require absolutely no carbohydrates. You are too sweet for anything in that stunning flannel check. I have always known that gray and pink make a perfectly wonderful picture, when done on a background of a good sized check. Now your gray eyes, and your pink cheeks——” “Fen, fen, no fair,” begged Jane. “You are mixing your standards. This is a domestic science lesson. You may thank Helen for these goodies.” Helen was proudly “serving” from a particularly savory casserole. “Oh, indeed not. Jane chose the menu,” Helen amended. “And our caterer knows us so well now, he always gives us the best.”