“It is just this, you know,” said Jane meditatively, as she curled herself up in the armchair, one evening after dinner. “It is just this. I expect people are making jokes about our housekeeping and wondering how we are getting on.” “I daresay they are, my dear,” remarked Marion with equanimity, as she looked up from her lace-work. “No doubt many of our acquaintances are quite confident that we live chiefly on bread and dripping, with cold porridge as an occasional variation,” said Ada, “but don’t let that fact worry you, Jane. Think of the delicious soup we have just had and be thankful.” “Oh, I would not care if they did say so, of course. But don’t you think it would be quite delicious to give a little luncheon party and ask——” “A very good idea, Jennie,” broke in Marion. “Certainly we will have a luncheon party, but it must be on a Saturday, so that you can help me to cook.” “We will ask Julia and Mary Holmes, then,” said Ada, “I have not seen them for an age, and I know they would like to know how we are getting on.” The Holmes were two school friends of the Orlingburys, who had come to London to study music and were living in a boarding-house in Bayswater. “Whom will you invite, Marion?” inquired Ada. “My cousin Madge, I think.” “Yes, do,” said Jennie. “I want to hear all about her visit to Brighton. Can I ask Dora Hopwood? She is in town. I saw her to-day; she came to my class to see me.” Dora Hopwood had been in training at the cookery school at the same time as Jane, and the latter looked forward with a thrill of pride to showing her prowess to “one who knew.” “That will be as many as we can seat, then,” said Marion. “If we invite any more, Abigail will have too much to do, and get flurried. Jennie, will you make a Charlotte Russe by way of a sweet? It can be made the day before.” “Yes, I can make that in the evening when I get home, and during the day I can make a Victoria sandwich—we shall want another sweet.” “Let me exhibit one of my few accomplishments,” said Ada laughing, “and fry some fish. Would sole be too dear, Marion? We shall have to be very economical to make up for this extravagance.” Marion said she thought they might afford sole for once, so that was settled, and she suggested some fillet of veal by way of a meat course. “Yes,” said Jane eagerly. “Let us have a nice little joint of fillet of veal, with mushrooms and pretty little button tomatoes round it.” Marion reminded her that pretty little button tomatoes did not flourish in April, so she must forego them, and be content with the mushrooms, half a pound of which would suffice to garnish the dish. “If we have mushrooms round the dish, I should think fried potato croquettes would be nice to hand with them, and some French beans,” said Jane. “I did not know beans were in season,” said Ada. “Not English beans, of course. These are foreign ones, at eightpence a pound. Half a pound are enough for a dish.”