fluffy, their inexpensiveness makes it quite possible to have them of all colors and shades, and a much-prized pair of silver candelabra lend dignity to the general effect.

Quiet entertaining, preceded by gracious little notes presaging a cordial welcome, is one of her fancies, and one is quite sure that at her home the entertainment will be deprived of customary stiffness and will resolve into a merry table of congenial friends.

A short time ago an old friend of such a woman became engaged and wishing to meet his fiancee she followed her call by an invitation to supper. Appreciating the newness of the engagement and her slight acquaintance with the young lady, she wisely made it a little supper of four and decked her table with sweet simplicity.

Her china, of dainty Limoges, was purchased with an idea of being serviceable for many occasions, and is mostly in odd half-dozens, although the color scheme throughout is green and white, a combination which blends well with anything. Her soup plates, tea plates, dinner plates, platters and vegetable dishes are of the same pattern, but the china for the entree, the salad set, dessert set, cheese plates, bread and butter plates, etc., are all of a different but harmonizing design.

Green and white being always a lovely color for the table and also admitting of very inexpensive treatment, make informal suppers not only quite possible but very attractive as well.

The table was round, just large enough for four, and nearly covered with a pretty lunch cloth embroidered in white. In the center a huge butterfly bow of wide green ribbon that just matched the china trailed nearly to the edge of the table. Over the cloth were scattered white carnations and ferns in artistic carelessness, and two slender candlesticks, with generously green skirted candles, broke the flat effect. Each candlestick wore, with holiday gayness, a large green bow, and the soft combination of color and grouping was charming.

The supper itself was very simple. A course of raw oysters and stuffed mangoes, with the usual accompaniment of horseradish and lemon, came first. Quail on toast with quince jelly (the jelly served in individual forms on tiny leaves of lettuce) followed with stuffed potatoes as an accompaniment and a delicious little chestnut salad was next in order. The dessert was a rich chocolate cream, stiffened with gelatine and moulded round with a large hole in the center. This was filled high with thick cream, whipped, sweetened and flavored with maraschino. The bonbons, of green and white, added the last touch of harmonic color to the dainty little feast.

A Little Sunday Night Supper.

Shortly after this, encouraged by her success, she gave a little Sunday night supper to introduce two young people to each other. The table, as before, was round, but the colors used were yellow and white.

A large round tea cloth, fashioned by the hostess, covered the table. In the center five ragged yellow chrysanthemums were fastened together with a wide yellow ribbon and wired to a slender upright, which they entirely concealed. Just inside the circle formed by the plates, glasses, etc., a wavy circle of smilax trailed and ran out into little curves between the plates. Nothing more simple could be imagined, but the guests had a very appreciative look as they were seated. Getting acquainted under such conditions was a very natural and easy process.

The supper was simplicity itself, and consisted of a clam cocktail; frilled French chops with green peas; a rarebit made in the chafing-dish and a rich lemon ice for dessert. In connection there were, it is unnecessary to add, many delicious accompaniments. Brown bread sandwiches, thin as wafers, were passed with the cocktail. Bread accompanied the chops, the rarebit was served in a bank of cress, with lettuce and cress sandwiches, and the ice was made even more delicious by the addition of stuffed champagne wafers. A pleasant time in the host's den followed, and thus, a happy little evening, quite within the reach of anyone, was made possible by a little forethought.

The apartment in which this woman lives has only six rooms, so you can imagine that entertaining (in its ordinary sense) is somewhat out of the question, but very charming little "at homes" are given once a month during the winter, and as the parlor and den adjoin, and are cosily furnished to correspond, it is quite possible to entertain in this way.

If you attend her "Wednesdays" in December you will be ushered in by a neat little maid in frilled cap and apron and black sateen gown. You will find your hostess in the parlor with half-a-dozen others, and, think you have a glimpse into Japanese fairyland. The den is somewhat denuded of its ordinary furnishings, but the bizarre posters still remain on the walls, and the couch, covered with a scrawly Japanese creton, is still in evidence. Wires are stretched from picture moulding to picture moulding, and Japanese lanterns swing gayly from above. In one corner a huge paper umbrella, dangling with unlighted lanterns, bright hued and tiny, swings over a low tea table, at which sits one of the hostess' friends in Japanese array. Her dark eyes, blackened into almond-shaped slits, vie with her decorated hair in foreign effect. From dainty little Japanese cups we drink the tea she makes for us and thank fortune there is one woman in the world at least who dares trifle with the conventional "at home" and eliminate its objectionable features. While drinking your tea you nibble at rolled Tutti Fruitti wafers, munch delicious home-made bonbons, stuffed figs and nougat (for which your hostess is so famous), revel in a huge Japanese jar (strangely like a familiar umbrella stand) which holds five great ragged yellow chrysanthemums with stems nearly three feet long, and finally settle yourself down to listen to some quaint little love song, with guitar accompaniment, sung by a dear little maid with bronze-brown hair.

This hostess limits each "at home" to twenty-five, so small a number it makes the average hostess smile, but, if necessary, gives four or five through the winter, as she needs no service beyond that of her own maid, making the expense marvelously small. She has many friends who feel as you do, that one bid to a sociable little "five o'clock" in her doll-house flat is worth all the receptions of a week on gay upper Fifth Avenue.

The first Saturday evening in each month, from November until April, she and her husband are at home to his bachelor friends and any young married people who can endure the suffocating atmosphere. All the easy chairs are pressed into service, the little iron lanterns blink joyously, and story-telling, music and smoking are the order of the evening. The light being dim, positions are uncertain and bachelor manners prevail, so unrestrained jollity reigns, and though the people in the other flats may hear the echoing laughter they pass it over with a good natured tolerance and wonder what there is that is so funny.

About half-past ten, when stories wane and a change seems desirable, the little low tea table appears and a rarebit, souffle of oysters, or some chafing-dish dainty, is prepared by the hostess. Occasionally, when one of the men has a firmly founded reputation for some special dish he is asked to officiate, which he does amid the joyous jokes of his roistering colleagues, while everyone within reach renders able assistance and the others keep up a running fire of disabling comments.

If one is willing to take advantage of their very present opportunities it seems to me that limited means lose half their disadvantages. Choose your apartment with a view to entertaining. If your bed-room