“I’ve lost my job through my stupidity,” she said sullenly.  “Gibson says I am discharged for being impudent to him.”

“I’m sorry, but you might have known,” replied Miss Jennings shortly.  “Still, you haven’t lost much; perhaps you’ll get something better.”

“Well, I hope so, but there’s not much chance at this season,” said the woman.  “Six dollars a week was better than nothing.  It’s more than I can make by taking in washing.”

“Oh, you surely won’t have to do that!” cried Faith involuntarily.  She had been listening to their conversation without realizing it.

The woman glanced up at her and gave a sharp laugh.

“That, or worse,” she said coarsely.  “I can’t starve to death, can I?”

There was no mistaking what she meant.  Her words sent a thrill of horror through every fibre of Faith’s body.

“She surely did not mean that,” she whispered to Miss Jennings as soon as the saleswoman had gone.

“Why not?” asked Miss Jennings in her bitterest manner.

For the second time that day Faith drew back with swift motion, but this time her companion did not appear to notice it.

“She’s got a sick husband and three children,” she said sharply; “and it’s no fault of hers that she can’t earn an honest living.  I tell you, Faith, that you have lots to learn.  I’m sorry you must learn it all in a lump, of course, but the sooner it is learned the sooner you’ll get used to it.”

She breathed a deep sigh as she turned away.  For a moment her real feeling showed above her indifference.

“Get used to it—­never!” cried Faith, almost hysterically.  “And you are not used to it, either, Mary; it is killing you this minute!”

“Perhaps you are right,” said Miss Jennings, slowly, then as the customers were gradually drifting back into the store she went forward to wait upon them with her usual indifference.

For the next half hour Faith was very busy.  The excitement had passed, leaving no trace behind it.

At exactly six o’clock a big gong was sounded.  Faith was so tired and nervous that she almost cried for joy when she heard it.

“It has been the hardest day of my life,” she said to Miss Jennings as they reached the cloak-room.

“Well, you’ll have many such if you stay here long,” was the reply.  “There are nothing but hard days for the slaves of Denton, Day & Co.”

There was a crowd of women and girls waiting at the lavatory basins, and as Faith caught sight of the towels she turned away with a shudder.

“You’ll have to go home with dirty hands, Faith, but you musn’t mind that; we wouldn’t get out of here until midnight if we waited our turn at those basins.”

Miss Jennings was putting on her hat as she spoke, and as Faith started to look for hers the clerk whom young Denton had called “Mag” came slowly up to them.

“Heard the news, eighty-nine?”