“I see you go every morning down town, but it is rare for me, for I can’t spare the time, so I have to trust to what the butcher sends. You see we live so plainly that we haven’t much choice—it’s just steak and chops and roast beef. Mr. Lennox can’t bear cold mutton, so we never get a joint of it.” “But don’t you think the morning walk would do you good? I believe it will me; and then I have some satisfaction in seeing my meat before I buy it, although we buy very little.” Molly was terribly afraid of seeming didactic, and spoke in a rather apologetic way. “Yes, but you haven’t four children, my dear; however, as I am out, I will go with you. How I wish you would tell me what to get in place of chops for to-day and a roast for to-morrow! We all hate them, but we can’t afford poultry.” “I hardly like to suggest, for I don’t know your tastes; but if I wanted to live cheaply,—forgive me, you have given me reason to suppose that you have to be economical”— “Economy isn’t the word,—we can barely make ends meet, and I work myself to death to avoid spending an unnecessary dime.” “I know you do, and for that reason I would like to tell you a few things I learnt in France, where they make a franc go as far as we would a dollar, and yet live well.” “Tell it me; but for goodness’ sake don’t tell me that lentils are as good as meat—we abhor lentils—or that peas and beans are nitrogenous; I’ve read that sort of thing till I’m sick; if you haven’t the appetite of a ploughman you can’t eat things because they contain nitrogen any more than you can live on medicine.” “I’m a little of your opinion, but I mean really good living that, if you didn’t know the cost, would seem almost luxurious. It is simply buying, and using what you buy, judiciously.” Mrs. Lennox smiled a little incredulously, but said, courteously, “I am quite open to conviction.” “What do you propose to pay for your roast of beef?” “It will be at least $2, for it is of no use getting less than eight pounds; and chops for to-day will be about 35 cents.” “And how long will the roast last?” “It has to last till Tuesday, though out of an eight-pound roast there isn’t much but bone and fat the third day.” “And you have then something extra to get for breakfast?” She laughed a little. “To tell the truth, our breakfast is slim; I can’t afford meat, and Mr. Lennox usually has an egg or two; he never cares, fortunately, for a heavy breakfast, but prefers knick-knacks.” “This is the sort of housekeeping Harry dreaded,” thought Molly, but she said aloud, “Then you would really spend $2.35 this morning for meat to last till Tuesday?” “At the very least, but more likely $2.75, for they could hardly cut me exactly eight pounds.”