old mills. Our Maggie's sister was crying in the kitchen last
night because her Mike couldn't get a job now the mills were
closed, and was drinking up all the money they had saved. That's
what the mill-hands do; their money goes to the saloon-keepers!"

"The proportion of their income spent by the laboring class for
alcoholic beverages is smaller by considerable than that spent by
the well-to-do for similar poison!" quoted Nan decisively. "Mike
is desperate, I suppose, poor fellow!"

"My goodness me!" cried Bess again. "You are most exasperating,
Nan Sherwood. Mike's case has nothing to do with political
Economy, and I do wish you'd drop that study out of school----"

"I have!" gasped Nan, for just then her books slipped from her
strap; "and history, rhetoric, and philosophical readings along
with it," and she proceeded cheerfully to pick up the several
books mentioned.

"You can't mean," Bess said, still severely, "that you won't go
to Lakeview with me, Nan?"

"I wish you wouldn't keep saying that, Bess," Nan Sherwood cried.
"Is it my fault? Don't you suppose I'd love to, if I could? We
have no money. Father is out of work. There is no prospect of
other work for him in Tillbury, he says, and," Nan continued
desperately, "how do you suppose I can go to a fancy boarding
school under these circumstances?"

"Why-----"