Our girl then will begin her day in better spirits. She will feel in a lighter mood; difficulties will be brushed aside. Instead of a furtive glance at the clock, and a thankful gasp that she has arrived in time, she will never think of the hour till she enters the room, for she has not troubled her mind about it, knowing she has given herself ample time. With all the arts of persuasion at her command she will then seek to lead her companions to have the windows open, just a chink or two at the top; and will gradually lead them round to her own conviction of the necessity for fresh air, and of the great desirability there is for an outlet for the carbonised air which is being emitted by one and all from their lungs. Before long she will have gained her point, and the open window will be a daily fact. We are speaking now, of course, of our sensible girl, the one who has taken in the justice of our remarks, and who intends to act up to them as far as she can. At luncheon time she will produce from her store some well cut sandwiches, made preferably with brown bread, and, with heroic determination, refuse tea (for it is hard to give up a habit), and will, instead, regale herself with a glass of milk, or a cup of cocoa; or, if she has neither of these, she will make a little strong beef-tea of Liebig's extract of meat, and partake of it with her roll and butter, remembering that, by the addition of an egg, she will make her broth more sustaining. If she goes out to a restaurant and does not care for meat, she will recollect that its properties may be found more or less in eggs, in milk, in lentils, in haricot beans, in oatmeal, and in peas. Oatmeal porridge and milk form an excellent, inexpensive, and nutritious lunch or midday dinner. In some form or other one of these nitrogenous foods should be taken during the midday meal; and, if the taste and finances permit, should be supplemented by a little fresh, stewed, or dried fruit. Fruit is most wholesome, and is well enclosed within the border line of necessities. Then, when tea time comes round, our sensible girl will either take milk again, or else will dilute her tea largely with milk, or, failing that, with water, and will refuse altogether to drink tea that has "stood" for more than a quarter of an hour. In the evening she will feel less tired (_i.e._, less exhausted from want of air and food), and will repeat her method of procedure of the morning on her journey home. Arrived there, she will feel far less weary and exhausted, and will enjoy a quiet, social evening, a book, a little music, or some such relaxation. But we can hear her, O. S. G., saying, after pursuing this _regime_ for awhile, "It is true I am better in a great many ways, but I do still have back-ache, I do still have the weight in my chest, which I know now to be indigestion; you say nothing about that. Even your pea-soup or your oatmeal porridge punishes me, and make me wish we could altogether live without eating."