"I won't listen to you! You've just got to go!"

"I'm afraid you'll have to kidnap me, then," repeated Nan, with a
rueful smile. "I'm very sure that my father won't be able to
afford it, especially now that the mills will close."

"Oh, Nan! I think you're too mean," wailed her friend. "It's my
pet project. You know, I've always said we should go to
preparatory school together, and then to college."

Nan's eyes sparkled; but she shook her head.

"We sat together in primary school, and we've always been in the
same grade through grammar and into high," went on Bess, who was
really very faithful in her friendships. "It would just break my
heart, Nan, if we were to be separated now."

Nan put her arm about her. They had reached the corner by Bess's
big house where they usually separated after school.

"Don't you cry, honey!" Nan begged her chum. "You'll find lots
of nice girls at that Lakeview school, I am sure. I'd dearly
love to go with you, but you might as well understand right now,
dear, that my folks are poor."

"Poor!" gasped Bess.

"Too poor to send me to Lakeview," Nan went on steadily. "And
with the mills closing as they are, we shall be poorer still. I
may have to get a certificate as Bertha Pike did, and go to work.