ad," said Abby. Her voice broke a little. She dashed
her hand across her eyes angrily. "Here's Granville Joy," said she;
"you'll be in the same room with him, Ellen." She said it
maliciously. Distress over her friend made her fairly malicious.

Ellen colored. "You are hard to talk to," said she, in a low voice,
for Granville was coming nearer, gaining on them from behind.

"She don't mean it," whispered Maria.

When Granville caught up with them, Ellen pressed so close to Maria
that he was forced to walk with Abby or pass on. She returned his
"Good-morning," then did not look at him again. Presently Willy
Jones appeared, coming so imperceptibly that he seemed almost
impossible.

"Where did he come from?" whispered Ellen to Maria.

"Hush," replied Maria; "it's this way 'most every morning. All at
once he comes, and he generally walks with me, because he's afraid
Abby won't want him, but it's Abby."

This morning, Willy Jones, aroused, perhaps, to self-assertion by
the presence of another man, walked three abreast with Abby and
Granville, but on the other side of Granville. Now and then he
peered around the other man at the girl, with soft, wistful blue
eyes, but Abby never seemed to see him. She talked fast, in a harsh,
rather loud voice. She uttered bitter witticisms which made her
companions laugh.

"Abby is so bright," whispered Maria to Ellen, "but I wish she
wouldn't talk so. Abby doesn't feel the way I wish she did. She
rebels. She would be happier if she gave up rebelling and believed."
Maria coughed as she spoke.

"You had better keep your mouth shut in this east wind, Maria," her
sister called out sharply to her.

"I'm not talking much, Abby," replied Maria.

Presently Maria looked at Ellen lovingly. "Do you feel very badly
about going to work?" she asked, in a low voice.

"No, not now. I have made up my mind," replied Ellen. The east wind
was bringing a splendid color to her cheeks. She held up her head as
she marched along, like one leading a charge of battle. Her eyes
gleamed as with blue fire, her yellow hair sprung and curled around
her temples.

They were now in the midst of a great, hurrying procession bound for
the factories. Some of the men walked silently, with a dogged stoop
of shoulders and shambling hitch of hips; some of the women moved
droopingly, with an indescribable effect of hanging back from the
leading of some imperious hand of fate. Many of them, both men and
women, walke