"Miss Marvin, I beg that you will excuse this intrusion," said James Denton as he joined her on the street after her call at the undertaker's, "but there is something I wish very particularly to say to you; it is something regarding that poor girl, Miss Jennings."
He had raised his hat politely and stood regarding the young girl in a most courteous manner. As Faith studied his face she could see that he meant no disrespect, but was painfully in earnest.
"I shall be glad to hear anything that you have to say about poor Mary," she answered sadly, "for she was my very dear friend, although our acquaintance was a brief one."
"Let us walk a little, Miss Marvin, please. I can talk better when I'm walking. The fact is, I'm horribly upset, and I don't know why I should be, either."
Faith looked at him sharply. He had removed his hat again and was passing his hand over his brow in a thoughtful manner.
She discovered in that glance that he was a remarkably handsome fellow, for youth, even in its hour of sorrow, cannot help being attracted to all that is gracious and beautiful.
His eyes would have been fine had their glance been a little more steady, but he shifted his gaze constantly, like one who possesses an undecided nature.
"What I have to say is this," he began very bluntly. "I think the firm should arrange to let all you girls attend the funeral of Miss Jennings, and I don't exactly know how to go to work to get them to do it."
"Oh, what a lovely idea!" exclaimed Faith, impulsively, "and it is so kind of you think of it, Mr. Denton," she added.
The young man blushed a little at her enthusiastic words, but went on talking as calmly as possible.
"I've been doing a little thinking since Miss Jennings died; I don't know why, for the death of a clerk doesn't usually affect me."
"Perhaps it was because it occurred in the store," suggested Faith, gently. "You have probably not known the details of any other such sad occurrence."
"That is doubtless it," said Mr. Denton promptly, "but another thing is this: I knew Mr. Watkins before he went to work for my father. His folks used to be rich, you know, and Fred was always a good fellow. He was in love with the girl, and I can't help feeling sorry for him, though, as I said before, I don't quite understand why I'm interested."
"Poor fellow! He needs all our sympathy," cried Faith. "He is lying at the undertaker's now in a terrible condition!"
"Is that so!" exclaimed Mr. Denton. "Why, I met him not more than an hour ago; he was just coming from Mr. Forbes, the superintendent. His face was positively ghastly when I saw him. No doubt old Forbes had been giving him the devil!"
"Surely not at this time!" cried Faith in dismay. "He could not be so cruel—so utterly heartless!"
"Forbes has no heart; he is a machine!" said young Denton. "He is simply a human octopus for pulling in money. Not that I object to money," he added, with a laugh, "but I hate to see men make it through such inhuman methods!"
Faith was utterly astonished at the young man's words. She had been led to believe that he was a thoroughly unscrupulous person, but here he was expressing her own sentiments exactly.
In an instant the young man noticed her look of surprise.
"You are puzzled," he said quickly. "You thought I was nothing but a brainless young scamp! No doubt you have heard my character from the girls in your department!"
"Oh, no!" said Faith quickly. "I have not heard that, indeed! But you will pardon me, Mr. Denton, I did think you were unprincipled, else why should you come in the store and try to make fools of all the young women?"
"Not all of them, only the prettiest!" laughed young Denton, gayly. "Surely a man can flirt a little without doing any harm, and the girls all like it—why shouldn't they, Miss Marvin?"
"But do you ever think what this flirting means?" persisted Faith, who had lost all her timidity and was plunging into the subject in earnest.
"It means a good time and a lot of money spent," said the young fellow, still laughing. "But why not spend it on the girls? Don't they help the governor to make it?"
"Oh, Mr. Denton!" cried Faith, who was now thoroughly shocked. "Is it possible that you are speaking now of your own father?"
"I certainly was," was the unabashed answer. "I did not mean to be disrespectful; that is only a habit."
"A very bad habit," said Faith, reprovingly, "but to return to the subject of poor Mary's funeral. Do you think if we asked for a day we would get it? You know, the store is closed to-day; they might not like to lose another."
"Of course, they wouldn't like it, but that don't make any difference," said young Denton, grandly. "What was Jack Forbes's funeral to you clerks, anyway? The closing to-day was only a bluff—one of the bluffs that all stores put up to keep the good opinion of the public. Now, this affair is entirely different. This girl was one of you, and you ought to be allowed to attend her funeral!"
"Have you spoken to your father?" asked Faith, after a minute.
"Not yet, but I'm going to. Now this is my plan: You get up a petition and get the clerks to sign it and then you go yourself to old Forbes to-morrow. He'll be worse than a brute if he dares to refuse you! Meanwhile I'll see my father at home to-night. He's a little soft on me yet, even if he is a hard-headed old sinner!"
"Oh, Mr. Denton, don't say such things!" cried Faith, "I will never talk to you again if you persist in speaking so of your father!"
The young man threw back his head and had a hearty laugh.
"You're the most innocent little kitten I ever saw," he said softly; "it's a deuced shame that you have to work for a living!"
Faith's eyes blazed angrily before he had hardly spoken the words.
"I am glad to be able to earn my living!" she said sternly; "it is ever so much nobler than to be living on one's parents!"
The flush that mantled the young man's brow showed that her words had struck home, but he tried to turn it off with a neatly put compliment.
"I'm a sad beggar, I know, Miss Marvin, but I'm going to reform! I never wanted to be different until, well, until now—to be honest."
"You are not serious, Mr. Denton; I see laughter in your eyes," said Faith, smiling. "But I will get up the petition at once, as you suggest, and I shall pray that our appeal may not be in vain."
She had paused at a street corner and was extending her hand to say good-by to the young man when a woman passed them and jostled Faith rudely.
It was Maggie Brady, the girl who loved Jim Denton. As she faced them for a second both saw that her eyes gleamed dangerously. Without even stopping she made a remark to Faith—the words were hissed between her teeth with the venom of a serpent.
"You'll be sorry for this, you little hypocrite! I thought you were too pious to be altogether healthy!"
Faith turned as pale as death as the woman strode on; James Denton was smiling in a half-hearted manner.
"That is the result of your flirting," Faith managed to say at last. "Oh, Mr. Denton, can't you see what you've done? You've made that woman love you, and now she is going straight to destruction!"
Mr. Forbes was at his office in the store early the next morning after his interview with Mr. Watkins. He would have been glad to stay away for another day, but there were many details of the business that needed his attention. Sam Watkins, his office boy, was not waiting for him as usual, but Mr. Forbes was confident that he could find him when he wanted him. He looked around for his assistant, but he was absent also. This fact was more annoying, because it aroused his suspicions.
"Bolted!" he muttered with an angry frown. "Ten to one he's run away and I'll never get my money."
Then he smiled a little, for he knew that Watkins had no funds with which to make his escape, but even if he had there were many ways of catching him.
As he seated himself at his desk both of his partners entered, and there were expressions of condolence offered in a punctilious manner.
"Sometimes I think that we fathers are all wrong," remarked Mr. Denton, after the condolences were over. "We bind ourselves hand and foot in the bondage of business, and all for what—our wives and children! If they needed such a sacrifice we would not begrudge it, but the more they have the more they want, until the head of the family is a mere automaton—a machine to pamper useless folly."
This was a lengthy speech for the senior partner to make, as he was naturally a reticent man, who allowed others to do the talking.
"You may be right," remarked Mr. Day pompously, "still, you must admit that wealth brings advantages even to us who slave—we can drop business cares and go abroad now and then—our time is our own beyond a certain figure."
"I have never reached that figure," said Mr. Forbes, very dryly, "and further, when I drop the reins the horses run wild, for be as careful as you may in the choice of employees there is never one who will not take advantage of your absence—the exceptions are so rare that they are scarcely worth mentioning."
"Well, I for one am getting discouraged," said Mr. Denton. "There's that boy of mine, Jim; how is he repaying my efforts?"
There was no answer to his question, but he did not expect one. After a moment's silence he finished his observations.
"If that boy had a million he would spend it in a month, yet no one has ever yet accused him of being vicious. I've set him up in business and everything else—he's had money and an example, but with it all, what is he?"
"Perhaps you are not strict enough," suggested Mr. Day, who was thanking his stars at that moment that he had no children.
"It will take something besides discipline to make a man of Jim."
Mr. Denton sighed as if he was very unhappy.
"Oh, he'll marry and settle down some day," said Mr. Day, laughing. "When he has a family to support he'll take life more seriously."
"I wish he had one," said Mr. Denton, speaking quickly, "but I hope he'll marry a working girl and not a 'society lady.'"
Both of his partners looked up in unfeigned surprise, but it was evident that the words had been said deliberately.
"There's a girl, a packer, down in the ribbon department. I've only seen her once, but she's a perfect beauty. That's the kind of a girl that would make a good wife; she's not afraid of work and she's honestly religious."
Mr. Forbes and Mr. Day were almost gasping now, but Mr. Denton went right on as though his words were not extraordinary.
"When that Miss Jennings died this girl held her in her arms. She's not over seventeen, yet death did not even frighten her. In that poor girl's last hour she was her only comfort, and if I ever saw an angel I saw one at that moment."
Some one tapped on the door, but no one rose to open it. Mr. Denton waited a moment and then went on with his subject.
"I don't remember how I happened to be in the basement that day. Oh, yes, I do. Mr. Forbes was away, and Mr. Gibson sent for me. I was waylaid on the first floor by one of those Government Inspectors; she went with me to the cloak-room. I simply couldn't stop her! When I got there that girl, Miss Jennings, was dying, and what do you think, with her very last breath she looked me in the face, and said she 'forgave' me."
"What!"
Mr. Day leaned forward with astonishment on his features.
Mr. Forbes half arose from his chair, and then fell back heavily.
Before he spoke again Mr. Denton began pacing the office floor. He was becoming more and more disturbed as he continued his recital.
"They tell me that girl has been with us six years, and that she has never lost a day except from sickness. She was a consumptive always—inherited it from her mother—but in spite of it, she had to work to support herself and a brother. She was getting ten dollars a week at the time she died, yet the cashier tells me that her checks for one hour alone have frequently amounted to twenty dollars. I tell you, this bit of information has set me to thinking, and the outcome of my thoughts is a simple question: 'Are we men or brutes?' That is what I want to know, and as it concerns you two as well as me, I'm going to ask you to answer it!"
There was the silence of death in the superintendent's office. Even Mr. Denton stood perfectly still as he asked his question.
Suddenly Mr. Day raised his head with a little jerk. His cheeks became inflated as he tried to assume his usual bearing.
"It is possible we have been a little thoughtless," he said sweetly, "but our subordinates should attend to these matters; that is what they are paid for."
Mr. Forbes wheeled around in his chair and faced the speaker.
"I have hired no subordinates on that basis," he said distinctly. "My orders have been to get all the work possible out of a clerk, and when they were incompetent or in any way useless, turn them out and get new ones, and I believe that I have acted with the full consent of my partners."
Mr. Day looked crestfallen for about a minute.
"Oh, if you put it that way, why, of course, Mr. Forbes. We could not expect to sell our goods with a lot of dummies behind our counters."
"We've had worse than 'dummies,'" spoke up Mr. Denton. "We've had skeletons and lunatics and almost corpses! Just go down and look at them, men, women and children! There's not ten healthy human beings on any floor in the building; yet they came to us, many of them, glowing with health, like Miss Marvin."
"Are they worse than at other stores?" asked Mr. Day, sullenly.
"I don't know," was the answer; "but that doesn't matter."
"They get their pay regularly," said Mr. Forbes. "Further, we do not solicit their services, nor compel them to stay with us."
"No; we merely take advantage of their wretched conditions to secure their services cheap," said Mr. Denton bitterly; "then instead of bettering their lot we grind them lower and lower, until at last they die either forgiving or cursing us."
There was another silence more oppressive than the first; then Mr. Day rose slowly and started to leave the office.
"We are exciting ourselves foolishly, I think," he said loftily; "neither you nor I, my partners, can hope to remedy the conditions of labor."
He closed the door softly, and was free from the unpleasant atmosphere of the office.
As he did so, a young girl stepped out of the elevator and walked directly to the door which he had just closed behind him. He turned and looked at her—she was as a saint. Almost instinctively it came to him what his partner had said, that she was "not afraid of work and was honestly religious."
"Pshaw! What nonsense!" he muttered. "Think of our patterning after a saint! It is strange how death will upset some men, but they'll get over it when they hear the money jingling!"
He opened the door to his private office just as a boy came upstairs with a message from Mr. Gibson.
"Mr. Watkins was taken to the hospital last night," it read; "are we expected to do anything? There's a reporter from the Herald."
"I'll send down the answer in a moment," he said to the boy, "or, wait; tell Mr. Gibson to say that we are looking into the case, and if our employee is found to be deserving he will be cared for by the firm. The reporter can call again if he wishes anything further."
With the note in his hand he went back to the superintendent's office.
As Mr. Day opened the office door with the message in his hand, he hesitated for a moment, in something like bewilderment.
Faith Marvin was standing before his partners with a paper in her hand, and just as he entered she was speaking eagerly. "We would be so thankful if you would do this, gentlemen—even for half a day, if you cannot spare a whole one. You see, poor Miss Jennings has no family, only a crippled brother, so we clerks are really her brothers and sisters. She was a dear, good girl; so patient and resigned. If we could lay her in the grave ourselves it would be a sweet and solemn pleasure."
She turned from one of the men to the other with her appealing glance, even including Mr. Day as he stood irresolute upon the threshold.
Mr. Forbes was the first to recover his voice. The girl's appearance and the petition had made them both dumb for a minute.
"It can't be done, Miss Marvin," he said, curtly. "It would be establishing a precedent; isn't it so, Mr. Denton?"
"But surely, Mr. Forbes, such a precedent would do no harm!" cried Faith quickly. "Poor Mary is the first clerk who has died in the store, you know. It isn't at all likely that there will be any others."
Mr. Forbes stared at her curiously. He was not exactly angry. As she stood supplicatingly before him, she was radiantly beautiful.
"Why not have it in the evening?" suggested Mr. Denton. He had found his voice at last, and came to the superintendent's rescue.
"The girls are so tired at night," said Faith, sighing. "I thought of that—but it did not seem advisable."
"We might arrange for a few of you to be away on that day. Surely, you were not all Miss Jennings' friends; there is no excuse for the whole store going into mourning."
Mr. Forbes spoke decidedly and with a little of his old crustiness. The spell of the girl's magnetism was beginning to leave him.
"That would mean extra work for the clerks who remained," was Faith's desperate answer, "and poor Mary would be the first to object to that. Their duties are hard enough now. Oh, no, sir; I am sure that would not be thought of for a minute. If there is work to be done, we will all stay and do it, but if you only would relieve us for a few hours, we would be deeply grateful."
"It wouldn't do at all, Mr. Forbes!"
Mr. Day spoke, if anything, more pompously than ever. "Pardon me, but we have lost one day this week. We can't afford another."
"That settles it," said the superintendent, wheeling around in his chair. "You will please return to your duties, Miss Marvin; we cannot allow your petition."
Faith walked slowly from the office with the tears springing to her eyes. Before she reached the ribbon counter a floor walker stepped up to her. She had never seen him before, but recognized him at once as the Mr. Gunning whom she had heard the girls say belonged in that department, but was away just then upon a short vacation.
"You have been gone more than fifteen minutes, No. 411," he said, sharply. "Hurry over to your counter; Miss Fairbanks wishes to see you."
Faith looked at him timidly. He was a silly looking young man who wore a flaming red necktie and curled the ends of his mustache.
"Another tyrant," thought Faith, but she only bowed respectfully. Already in her short term of service she was getting used to tyrants.
"I am going to put you in Miss Jennings' place for a day or two," was the buyer's greeting. "I am short of girls, so you will have to do. Miss Jones will tell you what you don't know about the stock, and I hope you'll be very careful in your measurement of the ribbon."
"I will do my best," said Faith, very sadly. She was soon standing behind the counter, a full-fledged saleswoman. For some reason there had been nothing said about the half day that she had lost, but Faith knew only too well that she would be heavily fined for her absence. Still, it was better than being discharged. She accepted the alternative thankfully.
If Bob Hardy was in the store he kept out of the ribbon department, for Faith looked around for him nervously several times, and was greatly relieved when she did not see him.
Once she overheard two cash girls talking about the robbery in the office, and as they mentioned the name of Watkins she paused involuntarily and listened.
"They say he's got brain fever," said one of the girls. "Well, I'd think he'd be crazy with all that's happened."
"It must be awful," said the other girl. "Why, his brother was only a kid, and, to think, he stole five hundred dollars!"
Faith almost gasped for breath at this information.
She tried to speak to the girl, but her lips and tongue seemed palsied. She understood now what poor Mr. Watkins had suffered, and to think she had distrusted him—even for one brief second!
Several times during the forenoon she saw Maggie Brady watching her, and the hatred in her eyes was too plain for Faith not to see and understand thoroughly.
Her first thought was to see Maggie and explain her conversation with James Denton, but she thought better of it later, and decided to keep silent. Miss Fairbanks was plainly upset and nervous. She scolded the girls constantly, and seemed irritated beyond measure. Whether Mr. Gunning's presence was responsible for this nervousness Faith could not tell, but it was plain that the two were on bad terms with each other.
On the other hand, Mr. Gunning had many friends in the department. Miss Jones smiled at him frequently, as did several of the others.
Faith was standing erect behind her counter when a sharp-looking woman came up. She began asking to see ribbons of various widths and colors. Faith tried to wait upon her as rapidly as possible, but as she was not familiar with the stock, she got sadly muddled.
"How long have you been here?" asked the woman suddenly.
"Only about two hours at this counter," said Faith, sadly. "I am very sorry, but I am afraid I have not waited on you properly."
"Do you mean that you are a new girl altogether?" asked the woman.
Faith glanced up innocently, and saw both Miss Fairbanks and the floorwalker scowling at her.
As quick as their eyes met Miss Fairbanks made a signal. It was as plain as day. Faith was to answer no questions.
The woman was looking at her with her shrewd, sharp eyes.
"Well, why don't you answer?" she asked, half smilingly.
"I was a packer for two days," said Faith very softly. She could see no reason why she should not answer the question.
As the woman moved away from the counter every eye in the department followed her, and Faith noticed how alert all the girls were to wait upon her.
As soon as she disappeared Miss Fairbanks rushed up to Faith.
"What did she ask you?" she questioned breathlessly; "and what did you tell her?"
Faith repeated the conversation in open-eyed wonder. When she had finished Miss Fairbanks breathed a sigh of relief, but her face was still clouded. "I guess they won't blame me for putting in a green girl," she said slowly. "Anyway, there was no one else. I'm awfully short-handed as it is."
"We ain't to blame if they don't give us help enough," remarked Mr. Gunning, savagely. "This firm is too stingy to keep a full force of clerks. Still, if one of them is sick or dies, there's always a row about changes."
"Well, if she feels like it, she'll report, and that will mean trouble," said Miss Fairbanks, sighing; "but perhaps she won't. There are some good-hearted ones among them."
"Who was she?" asked Faith as soon as she got the opportunity.
"Only one of Denton, Day & Co.'s spies," was the answer. "They are better known in the business as 'Private Shoppers.'"
Faith looked aghast at this information.
"Didn't you ever hear of them before?" asked Miss Jones, coming up. "Why, every store has them; they are a part of the system."
"Do explain!" cried Faith; "I am still in the dark. Do you mean that that woman was a regular detective?"
"Oh, Lord, no; she wasn't a detective at all! She's a spy, I tell you, the genuine article! Her principal work is to trot around in other stores and learn all she can about their 'specials' and prices, and get all the information possible in order to keep her employers posted on what their rivals are doing, and besides that she is expected to prowl around this store at irregular intervals, and we are not supposed to know that she isn't a legitimate customer. She asks questions and pumps and finds out all we know; then she makes us take down all our goods and put them all back, just to see if we are in the habit of keeping our tempers. Oh, she can make life miserable for us if she chooses! A bit of indifference on our part, and up a report goes, straight to the superintendent, and we get bally-hoo from the buyer shortly after! I tell you, we've got to be saints to keep our jobs in this place, but once in awhile, when we get the chance we let out on some safe party—that's the way we square ourselves. We can't always be angels."
"I've got a lot to learn," said Faith with a sigh, "but I shall always be civil and attentive to my customers, so I don't think I shall have much to fear from that particular direction." At just that moment a messenger boy came along the aisle. He had come from outside, and was looking for some one.
"Who is it? What do you want?" asked Mr. Gunning, going forward.
"Miss Faith Marvin," said the boy, loudly. "I have a package for her."
Faith looked up in surprise, as she heard the words. She signed the boy's ticket automatically, and accepted the package.
As she did so, a card dropped from under the cord with which it was tied.
Maggie Brady, who was watching her closely, sprang forward and snatched it up in an instant. As she laid it on the counter she fairly trembled with rage.
She had read the words which were written on the card.
They were simply: "To Miss Marvin, with the compliments of Jas. T. Denton."
It was impossible for any one to see Maggie Brady's face without reading in it how much she hated the girl who she thought had stolen her lover from her. Miss Fairbanks turned on her heel and walked away laughing, while several of the clerks began jeering Maggie quietly.
"You are not the only pebble on the beach; did you think you were, Mag? There are others, you see! Why, you're not one, two, three in Jim Denton's good graces!"
"Off with the old and on with the new! There's no one proves the truth of that proverb oftener than a certain young man I could mention! However, Maggie, don't throw up the sponge! You've got the first claim on Jim Denton—why don't you let him know it?"
Faith listened to these words in utter amazement. She was distressed beyond measure that this unfortunate thing should have happened.
She was glad enough when a number of customers came in. She was beginning to dread these occasional lulls in business. Maggie Brady had not said a word in reply to any of the taunts, but her face had paled until the two spots of rouge on her cheeks gave her a ghastly look that was positively shocking.
Faith felt so sorry for the girl that she did not know what to do, but there was no time to waste in thinking, for she was being addressed by a customer.
"My dear, can you tell me where that young lady is—Number 89, I think, they called her. She waited on me so nicely the other day that I would like to see her again if there is no objection."
Before she had finished speaking Faith had recognized her. It was the kind old lady whom Miss Jennings had dragged behind the counter during the excitement about the fire. She had said at that time that she would not forget her.
Faith's ready tears had already sprung into her eyes, but she managed to tell the good woman what had happened.
When she finished speaking the lady looked terribly grieved. She could not speak for a moment—she was so shocked and indignant.
"That settles my shopping in this place any more," she said finally. "I will not trade in a store where my sister women are so badly treated."
Faith saw her opportunity, so she hurriedly told her about the petition, and how the house that had closed its doors because a son of the junior partner died would not spare half a day to let its employees attend the funeral of a comrade.
"What a shame!" said the lady, carefully lowering her voice. "What a pity that the public should not know of all these things. I am sure it would result in their losing many customers."
"If there was only some way to make them more considerate," said Faith sadly, "and I am sure there is—I am praying for them daily."
"Dear, dear, you don't say!" said the lady, a little surprised. "Why, it is strange that I did not think of that before, for I am accustomed to going to the Lord with everything!"
"Oh, I am so glad to hear that!" cried Faith impetuously. "Then you will help me to pray for the firm that employs me! It may be that God will touch their hearts. We must do our best and then be patient."
"You are a brave young girl and a wise one," said the lady. "Many who are much older than you have not learned that lesson."
The customers were beginning to push and crowd about the counter, so the old lady went away to allow Faith to wait upon them. As she left the department, Mr. Gunning bowed to her politely.
"One of our best customers," he remarked to Miss Fairbanks as he passed her.
At luncheon time there was none of the usual laughter in the cloak-room. The girls were all thinking of Miss Jennings and talked almost in whispers. In a very few minutes Faith saw a young woman come in. It was the girl who had stolen the piece of jewelry on the day of the fire and for whom Miss Jennings had pleaded so successfully.
When Faith saw her she felt a thrill to the very tips of her fingers. It was a thrill of thankfulness that she had not denied the dead girl's request to show mercy to the poor sinner who had been so wronged by her parents.
As soon as she could she walked over and stood by the girl. She was a sallow brunette but her features were regular and delicate.
"Do you mind my talking to you a little?" Faith asked softly. "You see, I know almost no one in the store except Miss Jennings, and now that she is gone I am very lonely."
"Why, no, I don't mind your talking to me, why should I? I guess it ain't necessary to wait for an introduction. Got anything in particular you want to say to me?"
The girl's answer was prompt, but not at all unpleasant.
"Oh, no; that is, not now," said Faith very quickly. "I just want to get acquainted. You know I could see you plainly when I was a packer and, well, I liked your looks and that's about all there is to it."
While she was speaking, Faith was conscious of a change in the girl's face. She was evidently trying to read her to see if there was anything behind this desire for an acquaintance.
Faith tried to smile brightly as she looked into her eyes. She knew that she must win this girl's friendship if she wished to help her.
"Let's sit down here," said the young woman shortly. "I like this corner; it's lighter than the others."
They both sat down and opened their baskets, and while they hurriedly swallowed their luncheon, they talked a little.
"My name is Faith Marvin and I have Miss Jennings' place at present at the ribbon counter. I wrote that petition that you signed this morning. Isn't it too bad that the firm will not grant us that sacred privilege of accompanying our dead friend to her last resting place?"
Faith had introduced herself as well as she could, and now waited for her companion to follow her example.
"My name is Lou Willis and I hate funerals," said the girl. "I can't see why in the world you ever wrote that petition."
The words startled Faith; they were so sharp and unfeeling.
"Why—you signed the petition," she said after a minute.
"Oh, of course I signed it, but can't you see why, you ninny? If we get a day off I'll go somewhere on a lark! You don't catch this chicken attending any funerals."
Faith was so shocked this time that she could not speak, but the girl rattled on without apparently noticing it.
"I'm not one of your milk and water Sunday school girls! If I ever get religious at all I'll join the Salvation Army! Do you know that's a great scheme, that Salvation Army? You get six dollars a week and your husband picked out for you. Really, that's a great inducement, Marvin, when you come to think of it! I'd never be able to pick out a husband myself. I'm what they call too—too—oh—you know—fickle!"
Faith forgot to eat, she was so astonished. This was a type of woman that she had never dreamed of. Was she joking or serious? Faith could not decide. As she sat pondering and staring, her companion went on talking calmly.
"That Maggie Brady has it in for you, they tell me—but say, for goodness sake, how did you manage to cut her out with Jim Denton? Why, he's been sweet on Mag for at least three months, and that's a long time for Jim. I really began to think he was serious."
She paused to take a mouthful of bread and butter, so Faith attempted to speak. The words came slowly, for she was a little uncertain how to say them. "I am sorry if Miss Brady does not like me, I am sure. But you are wrong, Miss Willis. I have not 'cut her out' with Mr. Denton. On the contrary, I have never spoken to the young man but once, and that was yesterday, when he suggested that I write that petition."
"But he sent you a package to-day," said the girl, staring. "He must be badly smitten to be sending presents in such a hurry."
"It was only a box of candy," said Faith, hastily. "I gave it to one of the cash girls. I don't understand what made him send it."
"You must be silly if you don't," said the girl, laughing harshly.
At just that instant Maggie Brady passed close by them, and Miss Willis seeing her, raised her voice a little.
"Why, he is in love with you, of course," she said, with one eye on Maggie. "If he wasn't he wouldn't be sending you boxes of candy."
"Hush!" cried Faith. "You are cruel! How could you, Miss Willis!"
For answer the girl broke into peals of laughter.
"Oh, I just love Mag Brady—that's why I said it I Can't you see for yourself how much I love her?"
Poor Faith was driven to desperation now. Here was a situation far beyond her wisdom.
That the girl was a petty thief amounted to almost nothing beside her viciousness and animosity toward her fellow beings.
Faith was sorely puzzled over what to say, and while she was trying to collect her scattered wits Miss Willis poured out a little more of her venom.
"If there's a girl in this place I hate it's Mag Brady," she said candidly, "and she knows it, you bet! I haven't tried to conceal it! I'm different from Mag, I hit straight out from the shoulder! She's a sneak and a coward; she'll wait till it's dark before she fights you! You see you haven't been out in the world long enough to read people yet, but I have, I'm a regular veteran in the army of evil."
She laughed loudly as she finished, as though her words were highly amusing. To be experienced in the ways of evil seemed to her to be the highest possible recommendation.
"I hope I shall never know any more about sin than I do now," said Faith soberly, "but really, I seem to be learning more and more every day."
"It won't hurt you," responded her companion patronizingly. "You've got to hold your own, you know; if you don't you go to the bottom. The world is full of sharks and so is this store. The sooner you find it out the better it will be for you."
Faith saw that the girl was growing serious now. What she said was intended to be for Faith's good; whether it was good advice or not, it was the best she had to offer.
"Hello!" cried Miss Willis suddenly. "Do my eyes deceive me, or is that really a plumber that I see over in that corner?"
She raised her voice so that every one heard her, and a clerk in the opposite corner made haste to answer her:
"That's what it is all right, Lou, a real, live plumber! The Board of Health has come to its senses at last, and, thanks to that Government Inspector, we are going to have some 'modern improvements.'"
"I hope we'll have basins enough to go around," cried another voice, "and perhaps there'll be an occasional glimpse of a really clean towel."
"Oh, you mustn't expect too much," answered the plumber, laughing. "I only got orders to do a little puttering. It's just a bluff they are chucking; it won't cost them much if nothin'."
"Which means that you can't get rich all at once!" cried Miss Willis, grinning. "Well, I'm sorry you can't squeeze a fairly good sum out of our nice, generous employers."
Faith went back to her counter, feeling sad at heart. She was beginning to question the wisdom of her mercy toward Miss Willis.
"I don't believe that anything would ever change her heart," she whispered to herself, and then a great wave of shame swept over her as she felt that she had questioned the power of the Almighty.
She stepped behind the counter just in time to see Miss Fairbanks changing the prices on a lot of special ribbons, but before she could ask any questions Miss Jones came up to her.
"There's a milliner in this block who is selling those same ribbons for fifty cents a yard," she said, "and of course, Denton, Day & Co. are not going to stand that; they are going to undercut her in everything until they break up her business. You see, if we sell them for thirty-nine cents, she'll have to come down, which will mean that she'll lose a whole lot of money."
"But won't Denton, Day & Co. be losing money, too?" asked Faith. She was a little too green to quite see the logic of this action.
"Not a cent," was the somewhat surprising answer. "You see, they buy in such large quantities that they get it cheaper than she does; but even if they didn't, they could still make it up on some other goods, while she, poor soul, has no way of squaring her losses."
Faith's eyes opened wide as she listened to this explanation.
"That is exactly what they did with my father," she said slowly. "They undercut his prices so that he could not sell his books, then when his bills came due he could not pay them. Oh, the thing is perfectly horrible, Miss Jones! That poor, poor milliner! Oh, how I pity her!"
Miss Jones had listened with considerable surprise. It was the first she had heard of Faith's personal grievance against the company.
Things moved along quietly after that, and Faith was kept very busy, but through the whole afternoon she was thinking of that ribbon. Every time a roll of it was sold a weight seemed added to her burdens. When she was obliged to sell it herself she felt that she was personally perpetrating a wrong on the milliner.
It was a terrible day, taken altogether, for so much misery and anxiety were crowded into it that she felt ten years older when the gong sounded for closing.
"Can you tell me what hospital Mr. Watkins was taken to, dear?" she asked of one of the little cash girls whom she had heard talking in the morning.
"Don't know," said the child. "I didn't hear. But he's pretty near dead, I guess, and his brother is a thief. He—"
"Hush, child!" cried Faith, quickly. "Don't talk about that, please! It can't do any good, and—and perhaps some one has been mistaken! It's better to say nothing! until one knows for sure. Poor Mr. Watkins! He is indeed in sore trouble!"
"Mr. Watkins is resting very comfortably, Miss Marvin," said a voice just behind her. She turned around quickly and confronted young Denton.
"Oh, have you seen him?" asked Faith, in genuine delight.
"I just dropped in at the office; they wouldn't let me see him," was the answer; "but I learned that there was a chance for him—he was what they call 'comfortable.'"
"I am glad to hear that," said Faith, moving slowly away. They had been standing at the head of the stairs which led down to the cloak-room, and she expected every minute that Maggie Brady would see them.
"Don't go just yet, Miss Marvin," urged Mr. Denton, hastily. "I've just arranged about that funeral; it is to be to-morrow evening."
"Where?" asked Faith softly.
"At the undertaker's," was the answer. "He has a private room for just such purposes. He will bury her the next morning."
"That will be better than I thought," said Faith, very slowly. "I will tell all the girls I know and ask them to tell the others."
"Here's the programme or whatever you choose to call it," said Mr. Denton, sneering a little. "The firm got ahead of us this time, Miss Marvin."
He held out an evening paper as he spoke so that Faith could see it.
With a cry of horror the young girl read the headline. It was a regular "scare head," reaching across two full columns: "Denton, Day & Co.'s Generosity to an Employee!" "A Poor Girl's Funeral That Will Cost the Firm a Large Sum of Money!"
"How's that for hypocrisy?" asked the young man, still sneering. "I say, Miss Marvin, how would you like to be the child of such a father?"
For the first time in her life Faith could not rebuke disrespect. In spite of herself she could not help sympathizing with the sentiments of the young fellow.
"Oh, it is terrible!" she whispered in a heart-broken voice. "Poor Miss Jennings would rather have been buried in 'Potter's Field,' I really believe, than under such conditions!"
"Well, I'm mighty disgusted," said young Denton, bitterly, "although I'm sure I don't know what's got into me to care about it!"
"I guess you never knew just how you felt before," said Faith sweetly. "Sometimes it takes a shock of some kind to bring us to our senses."
"Well, I'm shocked all right," said young Denton, quickly. "Why, when dad told me about that dying girl saying so distinctly that she forgave him, it went through me like a knife! Cut me up worse, I believe, than it did the Governor!"
"Did it really disturb your father?" asked Faith, very eagerly.
"I should say it did!" remarked Mr. Denton, soberly. "Why, the man can't eat nor sleep! I believe her spirit is haunting him!"