She knew that the frenzy would wear away soon.  Her mother’s strength could not stand the strain of such agony many minutes.

“I can understand that girl stealing the jewelry, Faith,” she went on more calmly, “It was a terrible thing to do, but she doubtless justified herself in doing it.  And the woman who is going from bad is worse—­oh, she has my sympathy, poor wretch!  She is hopeless, discouraged; she does not know what she is doing.”

Faith got up silently and went out into the kitchen.  In a few moments she came back with a cup of tea for her mother.

In a second her action had reaped its results.  The mother instinct asserted itself.  Mrs Marvin suddenly remembered that Faith had had no supper.

“I am to have a visitor soon, mother,” said Faith with a smile, while her mother was getting the supper, “Miss Jennings is coming in later.  She lives only two blocks from the corner.”

“She is a consumptive, I think you said.  I shall be glad to see her,” said Mrs. Marvin, “and I’ll try, Faith, to calm my nerves, and not force my bitterness on another.”

Faith smiled very sadly at her mother’s words.

“Miss Jennings is far more bitter than you can ever be, mother dear,” she said slowly.  “She is almost callous, while you are still smarting with anguish.”

For the next half-hour Faith busied herself with their frugal supper.  Before the meal was over she was pleased to see that her mother was becoming more composed and natural.  When Miss Jennings came in both ladies greeted her warmly.  There was a hectic glow in her cheeks, and she coughed almost constantly.

Mrs. Marvin left the two girls together at an early hour.  She had kept her promise and been remarkably cheerful.

“Now, Faith, to business,” said Miss Jennings, as soon as they were alone.  “I want to tell you why you must not report that clerk’s theft to-morrow.”

Faith drew her chair a little nearer and prepared to listen.  She was beginning to understand her friend’s character a little better.

“In the first place,” began Miss Jennings, “we will consider the girl.  I know her well.  You need not describe her.  What I know about her is this:  She is the daughter of a criminal.  Her father was a pickpocket, he died in prison.  Now I ask you, Faith, what can you expect from this girl?  According to your Bible are not ‘the iniquities’ of the fathers visited upon the children, and are the innocents to blame for their undesirable inheritance?  Furthermore, that girl’s mother was what we call an outcast.  Can you reasonably look for morality of any sort in the offspring of such an infamous union?  You do not answer, because you cannot!  I defy any of your Christians to straighten out this matter.  The viciousness of most children is their only endowment, unless we add the poverty, the diseases and the hopelessness that go with it.  Now to consider her environments