“I am sure it is not his wish to annoy me,” said Faith.  “He just doesn’t understand that some girls are different from others.  He has met only the weak ones who could not withstand his flattery, but I can take care of myself, sir, or, if not, God will protect me.”

“Alas! you do not know human nature yet, my child,” said Mr. Denton, gazing at her with an expression of almost fatherly interest, “but pray always that your trust may be as steadfast as now—­that it will never be shattered on the rocks of sorrow and misfortune.”

Faith passed out of his presence with a last pleading glance—­she seemed to be mutely imploring his mercy toward the guilty.

CHAPTER XXIX.

A visitor at the flat.

For the next few days Faith heard no more about the box of poisoned candy, but she was not allowed to entirely forget it, for Ben Tyler, the detective, almost haunted the department.

If he was looking for the culprit there he did not show it, for he laughed and chatted with all the girls whenever he had an opportunity.

Maggie Brady had come back to find her “bargain counter” gone, but Miss Fairbanks had already received orders to put her behind the regular counter.

This brought Faith and Maggie nearer together than ever, and the hatred in Maggie’s face was very apparent, although she schooled herself to be fairly pleasant.

Faith treated her as kindly as possible, but for all that she occasionally caught Maggie glaring at her between half closed lids in a manner that thrilled her with fresh suspicions.

At those times Faith felt a nervousness that she could not control.  She almost dreaded to turn her back upon the morbid young woman.

More than once she thought of Lou Willis’ words that “Maggie Brady was a sneak and a coward, who waited until dark before attacking the object of her hatred.”

But this always led her to think of Lou Willis, herself, and to question over and over her well meant decision to try and help the girl to be honest by not reporting her dishonesty.

She met Lou often now, and always talked to her cordially, but she could feel that she made slow headway into the young woman’s confidence.

“You and I are so different,” Miss Willis said one day.  “You seem to enjoy playing the proprieties, while I just hate them!”

“But I don’t think I am altogether proper, as you call it,” Faith answered.  “I do lots of things that are not conventional and lots that are unusual, still I always try to follow my conscience.”

“Conscience, what’s that?” asked Lou, with a grimace.  “They made me without one I guess, and I’m mighty glad of it!”

“But surely you wish to do right, don’t you, Miss Willis?”

Faith’s eyes were eager with hope as she asked the question.

“Oh, what difference does it make whether I do or don’t?  Do what you please and don’t get caught, that’s my motto!” laughed the girl.