There was no mistaking young Denton's words or looks. Faith could not have been a woman and not understood their meaning.
For a second her lids fell in a tell-tale manner, and her cheeks paled and reddened with each alternating emotion.
She knew she must resent the young man's words at once, but her confusion of the moment rendered her powerless to do so.
Suddenly a thought of Maggie Brady flitted across her brain. It gave her strength and courage to resist the spell that was upon her.
"Your words are not sincere, I am afraid, Mr. Denton," she managed to say. "You only think to flatter me as you have numbers of others."
The young man leaned back quickly, and a flush of shame mounted to his brow.
"God forbid!" he said, sharply. "No, you wrong me, Miss Marvin! As wicked as I am, I would not insult you."
"But you did once!" said Faith, bravely. "The first day I was in the store! You bowed and smiled at me as brazenly as—as though you did not respect me!"
It was out at last, and Faith's mind was relieved. She had never quite been able to forget that occurrence.
"That was because I did not know you," explained young Denton, lamely. "I thought you might be willing to flirt a little—no one else ever refused me."
"Is it possible?"
Faith asked the question in out and out amazement. She could see by the young man's face that he was not lying.
"The other girls were always glad enough to flirt a little," he went on. "You see, they knew I had money, and was willing to spend it—you can't blame them, Miss Marvin; they were a poverty-stricken lot! It's no wonder that the prospect of a square meal and a little recreation tempted them."
"No, I do not blame them," said Faith, very decidedly; "but I do blame you, Mr. Denton; it was wicked of you to tempt them."
The young man's face fell, and he shifted his position uneasily.
"We can't all be sincere," he said, rather irritably, "and what seems right to one often seems wrong to another. I've been careless, I admit, and perhaps a little wicked, but don't condemn me utterly, Miss Marvin. Why not try to reform me?"
Faith glanced at him sharply. There was not a trace of mirth in his face. It was evident that he had asked the question in earnest.
"I wish I could," she answered, smiling a little; "but if you really wish to reform, you can do it yourself, Mr. Denton. You have only to pray, and your God will aid you."
"But I lack faith," he said, quickly. "I don't see things as you do, and, besides, 'the prayers of the wicked are an abomination unto the Lord;' you see, I know that much about the Bible, Miss Marvin!"
"But you will be wicked no longer when you go to Him in the right spirit," said Faith, brightly. "Oh, go to Him, Mr. Denton. It will give such pleasure to your father!"
"I'm afraid I can't," said young Denton, rising. "I have one of those natures that cannot accept the marvelous, and, further, I'm too great a sinner to reform, I guess; but please don't forget me because of that, Miss Marvin. I would give more than I can tell to have you think well of me."
Again the admiring glance rested upon the fair girl's face, and it took all Faith's composure to reply sedately.
"I shall be glad to think well of you," she said, a little shyly; "but you have much to undo, I'm afraid, before that can be accomplished."
"You are thinking now of what you have heard of me," said the young man, quickly.
"I am thinking of what I have seen," was Faith's decided answer, "and I cannot think well of you when I look at poor Maggie Brady."
"Don't mention her name!" cried her caller, almost angrily. "It is bad. enough for you to have to work with her, but it is worse to know that you are wasting your thoughts on her!"
"Mr. Denton, I am ashamed of you!" Faith's voice rose instinctively. "How dare you speak disrespectfully of one of your own victims?"
A half sneer passed over the young man's face.
"I thought she'd been telling a lot of tales," he said, fiercely. "No doubt she has blackened my character through and through! I can never hope to overcome your impression of me, Miss Marvin!"
"On the contrary!" said Faith, hotly, "she has never spoken of you to me! All that she ever said of you was said on those two occasions in your presence. But she doesn't have to speak, for I can see it in her face. That girl's soul is on your conscience. You are responsible for her, Mr. Denton!"
Young Denton turned and looked at her searchingly.
"So long as you believe that, there is no hope for me," he muttered.
The next moment he bowed silently and left the apartment. When he had gone Faith stood a moment almost trembling with excitement. She did not even try to explain her many conflicting emotions. This much she knew—she pitied him exceedingly, he was so young, so weak—she could reason no further.
When her mother came in she was crying softly. The events of the day had completely unnerved her.
Mrs. Marvin finally succeeded in comforting her a little, and then followed plans for the future, both for themselves and others.
They decided to move as soon as possible, so that they could accommodate little Dick in a more satisfactory manner, and also have a room for a servant and one for visitors.
It was a pleasant programme, and its arrangement cheered Mrs. Marvin wonderfully. She was one of those women who droop under adversity, but who spring up like a flower at the first gleam of sunshine.
Contrary to her wishes, Faith insisted on going to the store the next morning. She was so decided about the matter that Mrs. Marvin dared not argue.
"I shall say nothing about our fortune," she said, as she started, "until I see exactly how it will affect my position as a helper."
The new cloak-room was swarming with girls when she arrived, and as soon as Lou Willis saw her she shouted to her:
"Hello! Miss Marvin! have you heard the news? Lightning has struck downstairs, and it is raining surprises!"
"It's a pity lightning didn't strike the jewelry counter," called another voice; "but if it did, I suppose it would find Lou insulated! You'd go on talking just the same; ain't that so, Willis?"
"I talk when I have anything to say," was the girl's curt answer, "but at present, if you please, I am addressing Miss Marvin!"
"Dear me, how respectful we are to some folks!" was the mocking reply. "How did you manage, Lou, to get that handle before the Marvin?"
"Oh, do shut up!" was Lou's emphatic reply. "I want to tell my news and you are not giving me the chance! They say that old Forbes has gone home sick! He can't stand the racket!"
"What do you mean?" asked Faith, as she hung up her hat.
"Why, the boss' religious attack has upset him completely—knocked him out in one round—and I don't much wonder. How on earth could you expect any sane man to look on at the changes in this store and not shake in his shoes if he has money invested in the business?"
"What has Mr. Denton done now?" asked Faith, with great interest.
"Hired a lot of new hands, for one thing," was Lou's prompt answer, "and raised the salaries of more than half the clerks in the building!"
"Is that so, really?" asked a dozen voices.
"Well, as this happens to be my truthful day, you can depend upon it," said Miss Willis, laughing. "Oh, I tell you, girls, the millennium is coming! I expect he'll provide us soon with private carriages to ride to business!"
"Well, he has one of his own," remarked Miss Jones, from the distance. "He might at least hire a stage for us in stormy weather."
"An excellent idea!" exclaimed Faith, impulsively; "only, as we live so far apart and there are so many of us, I'm afraid the suggestion is a little impracticable."
"Then let him provide a dozen," cried another girl, laughing. "What is the cost of a dozen stages to a concern worth millions?"
"Oh, girls!" cried cash girl Number 83, as she came bounding in, "what do you think has happened? Mag Brady has been arrested! They say she's been trying to poison Miss Marvin!"
Faith sank down in a heap on one of the new sofas which Mr. Denton had lately provided for their comfort.
It was out at last, in spite of their caution. For a moment she was stunned by the suddenness of it.
The clerks all clustered around her and began asking questions, but she was too dazed to even think of answering any of them.
"I knew she'd do it!" cried Lou Willis, exultantly. "I've warned you against her a dozen times, Miss Marvin, but that's what you get for riling a jealous woman!"
"She'll have a chance to get over her jealousy now," said Miss Jones. "If they can prove that on her they'll send her to prison!"
Faith staggered to her feet and faced them resolutely.
"They shall never prove it, if I can help it," she said, finally, "for I am sorry for Miss Brady, and I'm going to try and save her!"
As Faith rushed from the cloak-room she came suddenly upon Ben Tyler, who was standing at the head of the stairs leading down into the private offices.
"Oh, Mr. Tyler, do please tell me about poor Miss Brady!" she cried, eagerly. "I have only just heard that she has been arrested!"
The detective smiled grimly at the eagerness in her manner, but he was nothing loath to relate his prowess.
"She's arrested all right! I nabbed her last night," he said, promptly, "but she had covered her tracks pretty well. I had a deuce of a time to prove it!"
Faith was still staring at him speechlessly, but with questioning eyes. She could not help feeling some curiosity about the details of the story.
"First, I had to find the boy that brought the candy to the store," went on the detective; "then I traced it step by step until I reached Mag Brady. Her brother is in a drug-store; it was through him she got the poison."
"And where is she now?" asked Faith, beginning to tremble.
"In jail, where she belongs!" was the heartless answer. "Mr. Denton and I went to court this morning and had her locked up for safe keeping."
"Oh, I didn't think he would do it!" said Faith, almost ready to cry. "It is cruel, Mr. Tyler! Oh, I am so sorry for Miss Brady!"
"Well, I wouldn't be sorry for a person who tried to kill me," said the detective, sneeringly; "but, then, I'm no saint like you, Miss Marvin."
Faith looked at him quickly and could see a sneer on his face. It was plain that he had no special respect for saintliness.
When she reached her department she found every one talking excitedly, and, of course, Miss Brady's arrest was the topic of conversation.
"Here she comes!—here comes Mag's rival!" cried Miss Jones, when she saw Faith coming.
The "head of stock" had got down before her and was beginning to arrange her goods upon the counter.
"So she tried to kill you, did she?" asked Miss Fairbanks, coming up. "Well, all I've got to say is, the Lord deliver me from any dealings with a jealous woman!"
Faith set her lips firmly and did not speak. She was determined to shield Maggie in every way possible.
"I thought your habits would lead you into trouble, Miss Marvin," said Mr. Gunning, insolently. He was leaning over the counter, which was as near as he could get to her. Still Faith did not answer, but went on with her work. There were no customers in yet, so she had no haven of refuge to fly to.
"How's the mash with the nigger servant?" asked Miss Jones, suddenly. "Has he got a wife, Miss Marvin? You'd better look out if he has! You know Mag Brady isn't the only jealous woman in creation!"
Faith looked at her steadily before she answered, and for a second the treacherous eyes wavered and Miss Jones felt decidedly uncomfortable.
"Neither Miss Brady nor any other woman has cause to be jealous of me," said Faith, plainly. "I have never wronged any human being, and I cannot understand, Miss Jones, why you insist upon taunting me!"
"Oh, don't mind her, Miss Marvin, she can't help it," cried Miss Fairbanks. "She's been crossed in love, and it makes her spiteful!"
There was a shout from every girl that had heard the buyer's words, and for once the tables were turned upon Faith's tormentor.
At about ten o'clock several new clerks entered the department, Miss Fairbanks assigning them places and giving them their instructions.
"Now one of you girls can go to the cloak-room and rest for twenty minutes," she said to Miss Jones and Faith. "It's Mr. Denton's orders that you are not to be on your feet so steadily."
"You go first," said Faith, turning to Miss Jones, pleasantly.
The woman blushed a little and left the counter sullenly.
"Miss Fairbanks!" called Faith, as soon as she had disposed of several customers, "please come over here a minute; I want to speak to you!"
Miss Fairbanks came over and stood close by the counter. She felt sure that Faith was about to confide about Miss Brady.
"Miss Fairbanks, I want you to help me," the young girl whispered. "I want you to help me get better acquainted with Miss Brady, and, if possible, show me a way to win her confidence."
"For mercy's sake, what for?" asked the buyer, in amazement.
"Simply to give me a chance to prove my innocence, for one thing; I want her to know that I never even had the desire to see Mr. James Denton, much less to flirt with him!"
"Is that true?" asked the buyer, gazing at Faith very seriously.
The color mounted swiftly to the cheeks and brow of the young girl, but, without turning her eyes, she answered:
"It is quite true, Miss Fairbanks."
"That would mean that we'd have to go to jail to see her," said the buyer, slowly, "and I confess I'm not in love with that sort of visiting."
"But surely it won't harm us," urged Faith, very eagerly. "You go first, Miss Fairbanks, and tell her that I wish to see her; if I should go first, I'm afraid she wouldn't see me."
"Very well, I'll do it," said Miss Fairbanks, after a minute. "I'm sorry for the girl, and I'm not ashamed to admit it."
"Oh, thank you, Miss Fairbanks, and do try to make her see me!" cried Faith. "I'm sure we can do some good, even if it is only by showing her that we love her."
"My goodness! You don't love her, do you, Miss Marvin? Why, from all accounts the girl intended to kill you!"
"Nevertheless, I love her—in a way," said Faith. "I can't forget entirely that she is only an erring sister."
"Well, you are a good girl, if ever there lived one," said Miss Fairbanks. "You are teaching me a whole lot about practical Christianity."
"Goodness, that which is not practical—is poor stuff," said Faith, bitterly. "I wouldn't be a hypocrite for all the world, and that is exactly what sham goodness amounts to; still, I don't mean to say, Miss Fairbanks, that I've always lived up to what I knew was my duty! I've made lots of mistakes, but I was always sorry!"
She sighed a little as she turned away, but her sadness soon changed to smiles as she saw Miss Dean standing beside her counter.
"How do you do, Miss Marvin?" asked the lady inspector, cordially. "I am delighted to see you again, for I was afraid I was never going to! Business is so very brisk," she said, laughingly, as she saw Faith's questioning expression. "Why, I'm up to my ears in modern improvements! I'm a carpenter, an engineer and a full-fledged plumber!"
"Do you have to know a lot about all such things?" asked Faith.
"Well, not a lot, exactly, but just enough. We have to know when stores are lacking in either of the things mentioned."
"There have been many changes since you were here," said Faith, slyly. "We have a new cloak-room now; you just ought to see it!"
"Oh, I have seen it, you can be sure!" said the lady, dryly. "I've been up there sniffing around and inspecting every corner, and I'm glad to say that I quite approve of it."
They both laughed heartily, but Faith was not quite satisfied.
"Can you see any changes that you did not suggest. Miss Dean?" she asked, a little timidly. "Are there no improvements that look to you like radical reforms, suggested by the divine spirit of love for humanity?"
"Not one!" said Miss Dean, promptly. "I see nothing of the sort! There are no changes here that could not have been effected by the law of common decency! I should feel sorry to think that a man could not do what was right without a divine suggestion. It would speak ill of his sense of honor or justice toward humanity."
She paused a moment and then began speaking more slowly. There was no resentment in her tones; she was merely reasoning the situation.
"I can see that the firm of Denton, Day & Co. has come to a crisis in its business career, owing to the illogical stand recently taken by one of its members. From a paying investment it has turned into a philanthropical institution, and so long as it can live as such it will be a great benefit to hundreds. Further than this, I hear that one man has made an unjust fortune by withdrawing from the firm and that another partner is watching like an eagle for an opportunity to swoop down and settle his talons. Then, again, I understand from a reliable source that Mr. Denton's wife is fast going insane from worry, and that his scapegrace son is growing gray-headed over the outlook for his fortune. Again, Mr. Denton himself, who has wrought all these changes, is being looked upon by wise men as a driveling idiot, or, what is about as bad, a religious fanatic, whose sudden determination to be good has sealed the doom of his fortune."
As Miss Dean was speaking she looked steadily at Faith. She was watching to see if her words had any effect, or if the girl was really incapable of understanding the situation.
There was not a cloud of apprehension upon the fair girl's brow, yet her eye was clear; she had comprehended every syllable.
"You approve of all this?" asked Miss Dean, in despair.
Faith's answer was merely a verse of Scripture, which she repeated so firmly and with such intense eagerness that the low voice fairly vibrated with repressed emotion.
"And be ye not conformed to this world; but be ye transformed by the renewing of your souls, that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God."
"I am answered, as I fully expected to be," said Miss Dean, quietly. "It is positively wonderful, that faith of yours. Why, it amounts to actual exaltation of spirit!"
She shook hands with Faith and said good-by. They were the extremes of goodness, accomplishing the same ends, but each working on a theory incomprehensible to the other.
The next few days were busy ones for Faith, for, besides her work at the store, she helped pack every evening, and tried in every way possible to enter into the spirit of the new arrangements for living, which her mother was planning so enthusiastically.
At last they were settled in a handsome flat in a neighborhood where Faith was not afraid to let either little Dick or her mother go out alone, and this one fact made her very happy.
Not a word had escaped her at the store about her altered conditions, neither had she spoken again to her mother regarding her uncle.
Mrs. Marvin told her sadly that he had gone abroad immediately after arranging the transfer of the $50,000 and settling all the details of her newly acquired fortune. Faith breathed a sigh of relief, although she felt sorry for her mother. It was evident that his humiliation was deep and genuine.
She frequently caught herself wondering about his changed name. He was born a Courtleigh, yet he had signed himself "Deering."
She decided at last that it was a purely personal matter. Doubtless it was for some reason which she in her innocence would neither understand nor approve.
Other things which she could understand were claiming her attention, so that there was little time to spend in idle conjectures.
She waited eagerly as the days passed by for a word from Maggie Brady that she was willing to see her.
At last it came, and Faith hurried down to the jail. She had no difficulty whatever in securing Mr. Denton's permission.
At the first glimpse of Maggie behind prison bars she nearly burst into a fit of crying. The girl was so haggard and pale that she hardly knew her.
"I suppose you've come to gloat over me," were the prisoner's first words, "but it don't matter to me. You can come if you want to."
"Oh, Miss Brady, don't say that," cried Faith, with the tears springing to her eyes. "I have come to see you—to try and cheer you. Do, please, believe me!"
"How do you expect to cheer me?" asked Maggie sullenly, as the keeper opened the door of her cell and let her out into the corridor.
"I don't know that I can," said Faith, very sadly, "but you will let me try, at least, won't you, Maggie?"
There was a yearning in her voice that the woman could not miss. She stared at Faith steadily, as though trying to read her soul, and in a moment her face softened and she spoke more gently.
"Oh, I have no doubt you are sorry for me, and all that," she said slowly. "That's natural, but, see here; I don't want any sympathy."
"But you do want my friendship, don't you, Maggie?" said Faith; "and that is what I have come to offer you—just my honest friendship."
In an instant the fiend in the girl woke again.
"Do you expect me to believe that?" she hissed in a whisper, "after doing your best to cut me out with Jim Denton?"
She glanced at the girl with a perfect storm of fury in her eyes, but Faith's glance did not waver; she only shook her head sadly.
"I am sorry you will not believe me, Maggie," she said softly, "but it is the truth that I have never flirted with Mr. Denton, and the only times I ever saw him in my life before this trouble arose were twice, when you saw us together."
"I don't believe you," said her listener, sharply. "If you had never flirted with him why did he send you candy?"
"I don't know, I am sure," said Faith hopelessly. "Perhaps he thought I was young and silly, and would not know that he was insulting me."
Miss Brady looked at her with some surprise in her eyes.
"Did you consider it an insult?" she asked, slowly.
"Certainly," said Faith. "He had no right to do so. He forced it upon me; I did not want it."
"And he has never made love to you?" asked the woman eagerly.
She was bending forward, staring at Faith with a strained expression upon her features. To save her life, Faith could not help blushing. Hers was a tell-tale face—it portrayed every emotion.
"I knew it! I knew it!" cried Miss Brady sharply. "You would not blush as you are doing if he hadn't done it!"
"But he hasn't, I assure you," said Faith, as soon as she could speak. "Mr. Denton has flattered me a little, of course, but I can honestly say that he hasn't made love to me."
She was firm enough now, and her voice was very convincing. Miss Brady gazed at her steadily and seemed impressed with her candor.
"Well, he hadn't better," she muttered sullenly. "Jim Denton had better take care—" She stopped suddenly. "I had forgotten," she said bitterly; "I am helpless and in prison."
"But I am sure you will soon be free, Miss Brady," said Faith, "for I have utterly refused to appear against you, and—"
"What!" exclaimed the woman in a startled whisper. "You have refused to appear against me—and you think me guilty?"
"If I knew you were guilty I would still refuse," said Faith stoutly, "for if you sent that candy you must have been crazy!"
Slowly the frown lifted from the poor girl's brow. She kept gazing at Faith as though she could hardly credit her senses.
"You will not accuse me," she stammered again. "Well, that's more mercy than I ever expected on earth or in heaven."
"What is more, Maggie," continued Faith, "I want you to be my friend. As soon as you are out of this place we can see more of each other."
This was a little too much for even Maggie Brady's nature. Her lips trembled suspiciously before she answered.
"Oh, I won't get out; you mark my words. Old Denton will send me up, or, if he don't, the District Attorney will do it."
"I don't think so," said Faith. "They won't if I can prevent it, and as I am the person most interested, I think I should have some voice in the matter."
"You understand, I don't admit that I did it, yet," said Miss Brady, sullenly. "I have never admitted a thing, not even to the lawyer."
"Would you not be happier if you did admit it?" asked Faith, softly. "I am sure it would relieve you to get it off of your conscience."
"Oh, it ain't troubling me much!" said the girl indifferently, "but I will say that I'm glad the stuff didn't kill you!"
"But it might have killed Sam Watkins if the dog had not happened to be there. Why, Miss Brady, just think; you might have killed a dozen people!"
The woman shuddered and turned away her face.
"Well, as it didn't kill any one there's some hope for me," she said, "and I want to live long enough to get square with Jim Denton!"
"What has he done to you?" cried Faith, impulsively. "I can't think what he could do to make you hate him so bitterly."
"Hate him!" cried the girl. "Me hate Jim Denton! Why, you don't know what you are talking about! Would I be jealous if I hated him?"
"But you certainly can't love him," said Faith, with another blush. "If you did you could not harm him so much as in your thoughts. You would be glad to suffer anything to be able to protect him."
"Oh, I've protected him all right," said the girl, with a sneer; then she straightened up suddenly and said:
"I want to ask you a favor. I want you to bring old Denton down here," she said eagerly. "Bring him yourself and let Fairbanks come with you. Come any day you like. I'm not particular."
"I will ask Mr. Denton to come, if you wish," said Faith, a little wonderingly, "and I am sure he will come. He is very sorry for you, Maggie."
"He'll be sorrier, I'm thinking," was the answer. "But my time is up. Good-by, Miss Marvin."
"Good-by," said Faith, sweetly, "and you believe me, Miss Brady. You know now that I am innocent in regard to young Mr. Denton?"
"Bring the old man down, and I'll believe it," was her answer. "If you will do that for me, I shall have some faith in your friendship."
When Faith got back to the store she went straight to Mr. Denton, and repeated in as few words as possible her conversation with Maggie.
Mr. Denton had found out himself many things about his son, so Faith did not hesitate to tell the entire story.
"I can't think that my son has really wronged the woman," he said, sadly, "but he has been very reckless, I fear, and it is my fault in great measure."
"And you will go to see her, will you not?" asked Faith, eagerly.
"With pleasure," said Mr. Denton, "and I trust that with our words and our prayers, Miss Marvin, that we shall be able to bring the poor sinner to repentance."
Faith left the private office feeling very hopeful and happy. She was more so when she met Mr. Watkins just entering the building.
There was a hearty hand-clasp and an earnest greeting; then Mr. Watkins told her briefly of his recovery and his prospects for the future.
"I am to have the same position; only a much larger salary," he said, brightly, "which will enable us to live in comfort without Sam's working. He can go to day school for at least another year."
"Everything is shining with hope down here," was Faith's answer. "Really, Mr. Watkins, you will be astonished at the changes."
As briefly as possible she told him of her own good fortune, and giving him her new address, she cautioned him to keep it secret for the present.
"And now I have some news that will astonish you," said Mr. Watkins. "A rich old lady, whom I once met, wrote me a letter the other day—she knew my poor sweetheart, and wants to adopt her brother."
"Adopt little Dick?" cried Faith, in distress. "I can hardly think of it, Mr. Watkins; yet we must look into it, of course. I must not let my love for him stand in the way of his welfare."
"That is what I thought," said Mr. Watkins, soberly; "but do you chance to know her, Miss Marvin? Her name is Mrs. Graham."
"Yes, indeed, she's the sweetest old lady in the world," cried Faith. "She used to come in here and shop, and Mary and I both loved her."
"Well, I'm to see her to-night, and hear what she has to say. I will tell you all about it later," he said as they parted.
"It will be a better home than we can give him," murmured Faith, thoughtfully; "for while we have a few thousands, Mrs. Graham has millions."
Early the next morning Mr. Denton was in his office. He was almost the first person at the store nowadays, and, as far as he could, he looked after every detail of business.
At half-past eight the sample room was thronged with drummers, and each buyer was carefully inspecting the goods which he intended ordering for his special department.
More than once Mr. Denton interrupted some low conversation where he felt sure that a deal was being made which could not be adjusted to his newly awakened conscience.
Then came the opening of the morning mail. He had always intrusted this to others; now he gave it personal supervision.
Quite frequently he intercepted letters that he did not understand until he had investigated closely, with the aid of a detective, but in each instance the wrong-doer was treated with mercy, he was reasoned with and cautioned, a repetition would mean discharge on the instant.
Thus, almost daily he found fresh evidences of dishonesty, either in the firm's dealing with manufacturers or customers, or some treachery of employees, whose opportunity came to them in the form of mail orders.
Goods were ordered in this way frequently which could not be supplied, and an inferior grade was almost invariably substituted. When this was done the "mail order clerk's" methods were simple—either he or the firm were profiters through the transaction.
Mr. Denton finally thought out the solution of this unpleasant matter, and on this particular morning he summoned the advertising manager for the firm to his office.
Picking up a daily paper, he pointed to one of their attractive "ads."
"Bring me a sample of these goods, Green," he said, a little sternly; "you can get them of Billings, the buyer in that department."
"Oh, that's only a blind, sir," was the startling answer, "Mr. Billings has some old goods that he is trying to work off. They are not quite up to the mark, but that 'ad' will sell them."
"Do you mean by that, Green, that we are misrepresenting our goods?" asked Mr. Denton; "or, in other words, that we are advertising one grade of goods and selling another?"
"That's about it," said the manager, looking a little puzzled, "but it's nothing new, sir; we've always done it!"
Mr. Denton looked at him for a moment before he spoke. He could not censure him for what they had "always" done, neither could he blame the man for his own previous indifference on the subject.
"Don't do it again, Green," he said very sadly, "and send Mr. Billings to me the minute you see him."
As Mr. Green went out Mr. Denton groaned aloud: "Would he ever get to the end of his own dishonesty, or was he to be confronted daily by such contemptible trickery?"
Just once he tried to justify his past methods, but with a sneer of scorn he put such thoughts from him.
As he sat in deep meditation the door opened again. He looked up, and saw that it was Mr. Forbes who had entered.
"I am glad to see you," said Mr. Denton, quickly, "and I hope you are feeling entirely recovered."
Mr. Forbes bowed slightly, as he dropped into a chair.
"Mr. Forbes," said Mr. Denton, "I am ashamed of myself! I never knew until to-day that I was such a scoundrel!"
He pointed to the paper that he still held in his hand, and in a very few words repeated his late conversation.
"That is necessary in business," said Mr. Forbes shortly, "and it is, to say the least, peculiar that you shouldn't know it!"
"Well, it's an infamous trick!" was Mr. Denton's rejoinder. "Just think of the poor people whom we have defrauded in that manner!"
"I prefer to think of the dollars it has brought into our pockets," said Mr. Forbes sullenly, "and now that we are on the subject, I may as well say, Mr. Denton, that I am sick and tired of this whole idiotic business!"
"Do you wish to sell out?"
Mr. Denton spoke calmly. "If so, name your price while I have the money to pay you."
"Oh, you do expect to fail, then? You still have sense enough for that!" said Mr. Forbes quickly. "Then, why not give up your fad at once and run the business properly?"
"Do you mean as we have been running it?" asked Mr. Denton, with a sharp glance at him.
"Certainly, with a few modifications, perhaps," was the equally sharp answer.
"Never!"
Mr. Denton's voice rang out like the blast of a trumpet.
"Go back to such infamous practices? Never!"
"Very well, then," said Mr. Forbes, with sudden anger in his voice, "I do wish to sell out! What will you give me for my interest?"
Mr. Denton wheeled around, and looked at him eagerly.
"I had hoped you would see things differently," he said at last. "I thought that perhaps you would appreciate my desire, which is to make myself more worthy of the God that made me."
Mr. Forbes shifted uneasily, and finally rose from his chair. He was plainly disturbed over the situation.
"I do appreciate your efforts, and I honor them, in a way," he said slowly, "but I have not the courage to make such a sacrifice myself, and I very much doubt if such a sacrifice is demanded. A proper observance of religion is enough; a man need not crucify his worldly ambitions in order to be worthy of heaven."
"'Let him take up his cross and follow Me,'" quoted Mr. Denton. "My cross is to do exactly as I am doing. It is not easy to bear, but I am happy in bearing it."
"But where will it lead to?" asked Mr. Forbes eagerly. "What proof have you that your reward will come? This may be a delusion that you are following."
"I am willing to risk it," said Mr. Denton, solemnly. "It is the best a man can do to follow his conscience."
"But there are duties to one's family that must be considered," urged Mr. Forbes. "A man cannot rightfully ignore the fact that he is of the earth, earthy, and that there is something tangible needed before we soar into the mysteries."
"He must ignore nothing," said Mr. Denton, gravely, "but, as I said before, he must follow his conscience."
"Well, I should like to stay with you, but I cannot do it," said Mr. Forbes, "for, while I sympathize with your feelings in many respects, yet I cannot indorse your unbusiness-like actions. If you think my interest here is worth fifty thousand dollars, you can give me that amount, and I will go—then you will be free to spend your fortune according to any freak of your fancy."
"You are more just in your dealings than I expected," said Mr. Denton, flushing a little. "After my experience with Mr. Day, I did not look for any mercy."
"Oh, I have a conscience, too," said Mr. Forbes, grimly, "and while I did not know it until lately, it has made me very uncomfortable, I can assure you."
There was a genuine ring in his voice as he spoke, and as Mr. Denton detected it, he rose and placed his hand upon his shoulder.
"Better stay with me, brother, and let us work together," he said gently. "In the vineyard of the Master there can be no unrewarded labor."
Mr. Forbes shook his head and turned away.
"We can attend to the legal details some other time," he said briefly. "You are busy to-day, so I will not detain you."
Mr. Denton sat down at his desk again, and as the door closed behind his partner he bowed his head upon his bosom.
"Alone and yet not alone," he whispered softly. "God grant me strength to do my duty, and if my lot is failure, let me accept it bravely. It is all a man can do. He must follow his conscience."
The door opened again, and Faith Marvin entered. She had her hat on, and was ready for the visit to Maggie Brady.
"I wonder what she wishes to see me for?" said her employer, musingly. "Is she desirous of upbraiding me, do you think, Miss Marvin?"
"Why should she upbraid you?" asked Faith, very soberly. "You certainly are not to blame for the actions of your son, and as for her arrest, you simply had to do it."
"She may say that I should have protected her from him," he answered. "Some way I blame myself continually in that particular direction."
"A girl should be able to protect herself," said Faith sternly. "I can't quite understand such weakness in women, unless it is, as poor Miss Jennings used to say, 'the iniquities of the fathers visited upon generations of the innocent.'"
"I believe that fully," said Mr. Denton with a sigh. "It is one reason why I am merciful in my own boy's case—my sins have been perpetuated! Can I ever efface them?"
They left the building together, going out of one of the side doors. Just as they reached the sidewalk a handsome carriage drew up before the entrance.
"Why, that is my own carriage!" exclaimed Mr. Denton quickly.
The next instant James Denton sprang from the carriage and came face to face with Faith and his father.
"What is it? Is anything wrong?" asked Mr. Denton quickly.
"Mother is worse," was the short answer. "She's gone out of her head completely."
Mr. Denton paused and rubbed his brow perplexedly.
"Oh, what is it, sir?" asked Faith eagerly. "Is your wife really ill? I have heard it rumored that she was, but I did not know whether to believe it."
"She is, indeed!" exclaimed young Denton, looking angrily at his father; "and she has every reason to be. It is only natural."
"Hush!" exclaimed Mr. Denton sternly. "You shall not criticise my actions. As your father, I expect and demand your silence. I am responsible to God alone—not to my wife or family."
"Well, you will have her to answer for, just the same," said the son, sullenly. "She can't see you throwing away your money and keep her senses much longer."
"For shame!" cried Faith hotly. "Can't you see, Mr. Denton, that your father is sorely distressed? How dare you trample upon his feelings in such a brutal manner?"
James Denton wheeled around and faced the speaker.
"My mother is going crazy," he said, almost gently. "You must pardon me, Miss Marvin, but I love my mother."
Mr. Denton opened the carriage door and motioned for Faith to enter. There was a look in his face that permitted no misunderstanding.
"Your mother's doctor and nurse are with her, are they not? Then I shall not be needed for an hour, and I have an important engagement. I am going to call upon Maggie Brady, one of my son's unfortunate victims," he added slowly.
James Denton turned as pale as death as he listened to these words. For a moment it looked as if he were about to spring forward and drag his father from the carriage in order to prevent this visit. In a second they were rattling away from the door. Faith's last glance showed the young man still standing motionless and livid.
"He fears something from the interview," was her first quick thought. She glanced up at Mr. Denton. It was plainly to be seen by his face that he shared her suspicions.
They were admitted at once to the corridor of the jail, and the keeper allowed Miss Brady to join them.
"How are you to-day, Maggie?" asked Faith as sweetly as she could. "You see, I have kept my promise. I have brought Mr. Denton to see you."
"My poor child!" said Mr. Denton, offering Miss Brady his hand. "I am more than sorry to have been the means of bringing you here; but I had no alternative. I had to do my duty."
"Oh, I don't lay it up against you," said the girl, almost coldly. She had drawn away from him quickly and put her hands behind her. "I suppose you thought I was a dangerous person to be at large—well, perhaps you were right; there's no telling what a jealous woman will do. Did they tell you, Mr. Denton, that I was jealous of Miss Marvin?"
There was a steely ring to her tones as she said the words, and the glance of her eyes was both cold and cruel.
"I heard that it was on account of my son," was Mr. Denton's sad answer. "I am very sorry indeed, Miss Brady, if James ever deceived you."
"Oh, he hasn't deceived me a bit," said the girl quickly. "On the contrary, he took pains to parade his attentions before me."
She laughed a harsh, grating laugh as she answered. Mr. Denton looked puzzled. He could not understand her.
"But perhaps you expected too much from his attentions," said Mr. Denton gently. "Young men are often unscrupulous and say more than they mean to young women. Perhaps he led you to believe that he cared more for you than he did, and in this way gained your affections and did not appreciate them."
"He did all that," said the girl, very coldly; "and I was not the woman to endure such treatment calmly. I'm sorry if I was mistaken in Miss Marvin's part in the matter. She says she was innocent, and I'm willing to believe her."
"Well, what can I do for you?" asked Mr. Denton kindly. "I have already tried to get your case dismissed, and as Miss Marvin refuses to appear against you I think we shall be successful. But if there is anything that James has done—any wrong that I can right, you have only to say so, and I will try to do my duty."
Miss Brady stared at the speaker in undisguised amazement. She could hardly believe that it was Mr. Denton who was speaking. As her employer he had always been cold and distant. She had never looked on him as anything more or less than a despot and tyrant.
"Mr. Denton is perfectly sincere, Maggie," said Faith quickly as she noticed the amazement depicted on her countenance.
"But I don't understand," said the girl, still staring.
"Let me explain," said Faith quickly, "and you must try and believe me, Maggie. Both Mr. Denton and myself are thinking only of your good. We want to help you to see this awful sin which you have committed in the right light—that is, as a sin not only against yourself and your fellow beings, but against the God who made you and who wishes you to love Him."
As she spoke she put her arms around the girl in an affectionate manner. Maggie did not draw away, but remained silent and passive.
"You see, Maggie, you are not wronging any one by your bad temper and your stubbornness as much as you are wronging yourself. These sins always react on one's self, you know. They may hurt and grieve others in some degree, but they sear your own heart with the wounds of agony and shut the light of God's tenderness from your soul. Can you not see it, Maggie, how you have marred your own happiness? Do try, dear, to humble your stubborn spirit? Ask God to help you forgive those who wrong you. Believe me, it will make you far happier than this cowardly revenge."
Faith's tones were so beseeching that Mr. Denton was touched beyond expression. He had never seen a more holy sight than this young girl pleading with tears in her eyes with an erring sister.
"It's easy for you to talk," muttered Maggie finally. "Your life has been different from mine. What do you know of trouble?"
"A great deal," said Faith quickly. "If I did not I could not feel as I do. Why, it is through my own experience that I have come to feel this sympathy for others."
"But you don't understand," said the woman more bitterly. "By 'trouble' I do not mean just hard luck and poverty."
"I think I do understand, Maggie," said Faith, more softly. "And I can still say sincerely that I am very sorry for you. I believe that you have been more sinned against than any of us realize."
"I have, indeed!" cried Miss Brady, sharply. Her lips twitched convulsively and tears trembled on her lashes.
"Then God will surely pity you," cried Faith, almost cheerily. "He will understand the length and breadth of your temptation, Maggie, as well as the injustice which you have suffered."
The poor girl gazed at Faith a moment and then burst out crying.
"Oh, I have been wronged most fearfully," she whispered between her sobs. "And I could not help it. I could bear the agony no longer!"
As she spoke she thrust her hand into the bosom of her dress. In another second she had drawn forth a crumpled paper.
"Read it!" she said hoarsely, holding it out toward Mr. Denton. "Read it, and tell me if you blame me for doing as I did, and after you have read it say again that you will help me!"
With a quick wave of horror coursing through his brain, Mr. Denton took the paper and quickly unfolded it.
Only a glance was needed to show him what it was. Mr. Denton staggered to a chair, his face pale and haggard.
"Oh, what is it?" asked Faith, looking from one to the other.
Maggie Brady gave a short, hoarse laugh as she replied:
"Only the certificate of my marriage to young James Denton!"