how much money the mills paid out in a
year to the hands, some perfectly en_or_mous sum."

"But just think how many people that has to be divided among," urged
Nan. "Lots of the men earn only eight or nine dollars a week, and have
families to support."

"Well, of course, they don't have to be supported as we are," objected
the easy-minded Bess. "Anyway my father says frugality should be taught
to the poor just the same as reading and writing. They ought to learn
how to save."

"When you earn only just enough to supply your needs, and no more, how
can you divide your income so as to hoard up any part of it?"

"Dear me! Don't ask questions in political economy out of school, Nan!"
cried Bess, forgetting that she had started the discussion herself. "I
just HATE that study, and wish we didn't have to take it! I can't answer
that question, anyway."

"I'll answer it then," declared Nan. "If you are a mill-hand your
stomach won't let you save money. There probably won't be a dozen
families affected by this shut-down who have more than ten dollars
saved."

"Goodness! You don't mean that that's true? Why, dad gives me that much
to spend on myself each month," Bess cried. "The poor things! Even
if they are frowsy and low, I am sorry for them. But, of course, the
shut-down doesn't trouble you, Nan. Not personally, I mean. Your father
has had a good position for so many years-----"

"I'm not at all sure that it won't trouble us," Nan interposed gravely.
"But of course we are not in danger of starvation."

She felt some delicacy about entirely confiding in Bess on the subject.
Nan had heard the pros and cons of the expected closing of the mills
discussed at home almost every day for weeks past; but family secrets
should never be mentioned outside the family circle, as Nan very well
knew.

"Well," signed Bess, whose whole universe revolved around a central
sun called Self, as is the case with many girls brought up by indulgent
parents. "I hope, dear, that this trouble won't keep you from entering
Lakeview with me next fall."

Nan laughed. "There never was a chance of my going with you, Bess, and
I've told you so often enough-----"

"Now, don't you say that, Nan Sherwood!" cried her chum. "I've just made
up my mind that you shall go, and that's all there is to it! You've just
got to go!"

"You mean to kidnap me and bear me off to that ogre's castle, whether or
not?"

"It's the very nicest school that ever was," cried