She knew the day had almost come when the newspaper told the details of the new school and set Papa to raging. It seemed that the town fathers had decided to charge tuition in the new high school. Papa stormed about this at supper time, declaring that between Lena’s and Marcia’s fees he’d go bankrupt. He said the best people in the Junction had gotten along without any new expensive schools (gymnasiums, domestic science and manual training departments, business courses, and all those newfangled ideas), and he guessed his daughters could do the same.

“You mean we have to quit school?” Lena asked, eyes wide. Bad girls and poor children who had to work in the mills quit school. “If we don’t go everybody will think it’s because we’re too poor to pay the tuition. All the other girls are ordering gym suits and domestic science aprons from the Fair Store already. Oh, Papa, we just have to go.”

“Aprons! Gym suits! I never heard the like,” gasped Mrs. Willard, eyes darting from one to the other and resting sympathetically on Papa. “Harry, I do think you ought to get up at the chamber of commerce meeting and give them a piece of your mind! The way youngsters now are pampered; why, I never in all my life! And what good are they at the end? A lot of good-for-nothings that expect you to do and do for them the rest of their life! The house needs painting, we have to make a payment on the car before they’ll deliver it, there’s our lodge dues, and our vacation expenses next month at Silver Lake, and the new washer; but, oh, no, we have to take our last penny to buy school trash for the girls!”

“But everybody in town is doing it,” wailed Lena.

Marcia looked stonily into space.

“Lena’s so full of boys and dates behind the schoolhouse—oh, yes, don’t think I don’t hear all about it!—and Marcia’s so full of crazy ideas she moons around like a lunatic, don’t know anybody’s talking to her half the time. No siree, Harry Willard, you don’t need to ask me for my money, and I won’t have you taking the household money either. No siree. They’re not my flesh and blood. Let them go to their Aunt Lois or their grandmother or some of those relations they’re always telling about. When it comes to laying out any more money I wash my hands.”

As this outburst said all and more than Papa had in his mind, there was nothing left for him but to glower at his plate.

“What’s the good of us getting high honors if we can’t go to the new high school?” Lena inquired. “Our own mother wouldn’t want us to quit school. I’ll bet we don’t get allowed to ride in the automobile when we do get one. I’ll bet only Minelda gets allowed in it.”

Minelda’s mother’s bony hand flashed across Lena’s cheek in a smart slap which brought Lena to her feet, scarlet with indignation.