u remember that I was one of your first customers, and
that I really brought you half your trade."

The little Frenchwoman wrung her hands. "I _do_ remember,
mademoiselle! Indeed! Indeed! But you see for yourself ze situation.
What can I do?"

"Make some of the women come back at night," answered Miss Shelby,
turning back into the parlour, "and have them take some of the work
home to finish. I'm sure you might be obliging enough to favour me."

Miss Balfour had taken no part in the conversation. She stood beside
her cousin, fully as tall and handsome as she, and resembling her in
both face and figure, but there was something in her expression that
attracted Cicely as much as the other girl had repelled her.

Miss Shelby had not seemed to distinguish the sewing women from their
machines, but Rhoda Balfour noticed how pallid were some of the faces,
and how gray was the hair on the temples of the old woman in the
corner bending over her buttonholes. When her glance reached Cicely,
the appealing little figure in the black gown, she could not help but
notice the admiration that showed so plainly in the girl's face, and
involuntarily she smiled in response, a bright, friendly smile.

As she turned away she did not see the sudden flush that rose to
Cicely's cheeks, and did not know that her recognition had sent the
blood surging warmly through the sad and discouraged heart. It had
been two months since Cicely Leeds had been left alone in the strange
city, and this was the first time in all those weeks that any one had
smiled at her.

Sometimes it seemed to her that the loneliness would kill her if she
knew it must go on indefinitely. But Marcelle's promise helped her to
bear it. Marcelle was her older sister, the only person in the world
left to her, and Marcelle was teaching the village school at home. In
another year the last penny of the debts their father had left when he
died would be paid, and Marcelle would be free to send for Cicely
then, and life would not be so hard. Just now there was no other way
for Cicely to live but to take the small wages madame offered, and be
thankful that she was having such an opportunity to learn the
dressmaker's trade. She could set up a little establishment of her own
some day, when she went back to Marcelle.

Cicely did not hear the final words of Miss Shelby's argument, but a
few minutes later madame came back to the workroom with a bundle in
her arms. There was a worried frown