“Nonsense!  Get back to your desk this instant, packer!  If she is too sick to go alone one of the cash girls can take her.  Come, hurry along; there are customers coming.”

Faith gave a despairing sob as she climbed back to her seat.  Miss Jennings was desperately ill—­she was sure of it.

Suddenly it occurred to her what a really brave fellow Mr. Watkins was.  She had heard Mr. Forbes tell him to have Miss Jennings discharged, yet for two days he had disregarded the order.

That, and the picture of the young man in Miss Jennings’ purse told Faith a story as plain as words could have done.  The two were lovers, she was positive of it, she began to wonder if Mr. Watkins knew of his sweetheart’s condition.

“Move faster there, packer!” called Miss Fairbanks crossly.  “Can’t you see the lady is waiting for her parcel while you are loitering?”

“Oh, I am in no hurry at all, madam,” said a calm, lady-like voice.  “Do not hurry the poor girl, please.  She is probably tired.”

“She has no right to be tired at this time in the morning”—­Miss Fairbanks was trying to be polite, but her voice was still snappy.

“Are you never tired at this hour?” asked the lady, calmly.  “I frequently wake tired, and from no especial reason.  In this case I should think it surprising if she ever felt rested.”

“Oh, they get used to it—­we all do,” said Miss Fairbanks, stammering.  “Or, at least, we must do our work just the same.  We are not supposed to have feelings.”

“Pray, tell me who are your judges, madam?” The lady spoke more sharply.  “Who dares to say that human beings who earn their living have no feelings?”

“Well, if they don’t say so out loud that is what they think,” replied the buyer.  “Why, we’d be discharged before night if we were to complain of too much work.  They want machines in these stores, and we are the nearest substitutes.”

“Well, why don’t you all rebel and force your employers to think differently?  Mind, I don’t tell you to do it.  I am just asking for information.”

“It would do no good; we would simply lose our places, and for each one of us there would be ten applicants to-morrow.”

Miss Fairbanks spoke the truth, and she spoke it sadly.

For the second time Faith was inclined to think that the woman was not bad-hearted.

“The law should step in and regulate such matters,” said the lady.  “So much authority should not be allowed to a few human beings.  A few arrests for manslaughter would not be amiss.  I have just seen one woman who is being killed by this slavery, and there are plenty more behind these counters.”

“But no jury could convict our employers, if that is what you mean.”  Miss Fairbanks was gasping over the startling suggestion.

“I’m not so sure,” said the lady thoughtfully.  “If they could see what I have just seen they might possibly do it There is a young woman dying this minute down in that villainous cloak-room.”