“Can I help you, dear?” said the lady, going over to where Faith sat by her friend, “or am I merely exhausting the air that the poor child should be breathing?  You were a brave girl to come to her rescue as you did.  If any trouble results from it, be sure and let me know it.”

She dropped her card into Faith’s lap, and left the place with Mr. Denton.

The doctor was just entering and there was no spare room.  She had seen at a glance that Faith could do all that was needed.

A few minutes later Miss Jennings opened her eyes.  When she saw Faith bending over her she smiled very happily.

“You are better, dear, aren’t you?” whispered Faith, as she tried to return the smile.

Miss Jennings shook her head gently.  “I am satisfied,” was her low answer.

“But I want you to be happy, Mary,” cried Faith, who saw death in the poor girl’s face.  “Look up, dear; there is One who loves you.  Can you not believe it?”

“I trust it is so,” said the dying girl, faintly, “I have not believed, but I may have been mistaken.”

“You were indeed, Mary, but you were not to blame!  Poor child, yours has been a sad lot, but there is happiness coming.”

There were stifled sobs from many of the girls who were standing in frightened groups about the room.  The hush upon each lip spoke only too plainly of death’s presence.

“Poor Dick!” sighed Miss Jennings.  “If it were not for Dick—­”

Dick was the crippled brother who was her only charge.

“I will take him to live with me, Mary,” whispered Faith, nobly.  “My mother will love him and so will I—­but what is it, dear?”

Miss Jennings was trying to say something more.  Her voice was so low that only Faith could hear it.

“Will He forgive indifference, rebellion, distrust?”

“Though your sins are as scarlet, He shall wash them white, dear Mary.  As we forgive our enemies, so He will forgive us.”

The dying girl raised her eyes.  Strangely enough their gaze rested upon the face of Mr. Denton.

He had come back to the scene only a moment before, and for perhaps the first time in his life, pangs of remorse were seizing him.

“I—­forgive—­” murmured the poor girl, still gazing at Mr. Denton.  Her eyes closed slowly as she spoke.

With a fearful groan, Mr. Denton fled from the place.

The physician had done what he could, but his efforts were useless.  Another life had gone out at the very dawning of its day; crushed out by the injustice and the greed of fellow-beings.  Faith choked back her sobs as well as she could, and looked on in amazement at what followed the tragedy.  An undertaker was called and placed in charge of the body, and the utmost concern seemed to be felt about all the arrangements, especially by Mr. Gibson, who had been put in charge of the matter by the firm.

Faith would not have understood such a sudden “change of heart” if she had not been enlightened by one of the other women.