s."

Faith's eyes opened wide as she listened to this explanation.

"That is exactly what they did with my father," she said slowly. "They
undercut his prices so that he could not sell his books, then when his
bills came due he could not pay them. Oh, the thing is perfectly
horrible, Miss Jones! That poor, poor milliner! Oh, how I pity her!"

Miss Jones had listened with considerable surprise. It was the first she
had heard of Faith's personal grievance against the company.

Things moved along quietly after that, and Faith was kept very busy, but
through the whole afternoon she was thinking of that ribbon. Every time
a roll of it was sold a weight seemed added to her burdens. When she was
obliged to sell it herself she felt that she was personally perpetrating
a wrong on the milliner.

It was a terrible day, taken altogether, for so much misery and anxiety
were crowded into it that she felt ten years older when the gong sounded
for closing.

"Can you tell me what hospital Mr. Watkins was taken to, dear?" she
asked of one of the little cash girls whom she had heard talking in the
morning.

"Don't know," said the child. "I didn't hear. But he's pretty near dead,
I guess, and his brother is a thief. He--"

"Hush, child!" cried Faith, quickly. "Don't talk about that, please! It
can't do any good, and--and perhaps some one has been mistaken! It's
better to say nothing! until one knows for sure. Poor Mr. Watkins! He is
indeed in sore trouble!"

"Mr. Watkins is resting very comfortably, Miss Marvin," said a voice
just behind her. She turned around quickly and confronted young Denton.

"Oh, have you seen him?" asked Faith, in genuine delight.

"I just dropped in at the office; they wouldn't let me see him," was
the answer; "but I learned that there was a chance for him--he was what
they call 'comfortable.'"

"I am glad to hear that," said Faith, moving slowly away. They had been
standing at the head of the stairs which led down to the cloak-room, and
she expected every minute that Maggie Brady would see them.

"Don't go just yet, Miss Marvin," urged Mr. Denton, hastily. "I've just
arranged about that funeral; it is to be to-morrow evening."

"Where?" asked Faith softly.

"At the undertaker's," was the answer. "He has a private room for just
such purposes. He will bury her the next morning."

"That will be better than I thought," said Faith, very slowly. "I will
tell all the girls I know and ask them to tell t