pick up as fast as it can," returned Pinky; "but mind what I
say: you are to be mum. Here's your pay for the first week, and you
shall have it fair and square always. Call it your own baby, if you
will, or your grandson. Yes, that's better. He's the child of your dead
daughter, just sent to you from somewhere out of town. So take good
care of him, and keep your mouth shut. I'll be round again in a little
while."

And with this injunction Pinky went away. On the next Thursday she
visited the St. John's mission sewing-school in company with the little
girl from Grubb's court, but greatly to her disappointment, Edith did
not make her appearance. There were four or five ladies in attendance
on the school, which, under the superintendence of one of them, a woman
past middle life, with a pale, serious face and a voice clear and sweet,
was conducted with an order and decorum not often maintained among a
class of children such as were there gathered together.

It was a long time since Pinky had found herself so repressed and ill
at ease. There was a spiritual atmosphere in the place that did not
vitalize her blood. She felt a sense of constriction and suffocation.
She had taken her seat in the class taught usually by Edith, with the
intention of studying that young lady and finding out all she could
about her, not doubting her ability to act the part in hand with perfect
self-possession. But she had not been in the room a minute before
confidence began to die, and very soon she found herself ill at ease and
conscious of being out of her place. The bold, bad woman felt weak and
abashed. An unseen sphere of purity and Christian love surrounded and
touched her soul with as palpable an impression as outward things give
to the body. She had something of the inward distress and pain a devil
would feel if lifted into the pure air of heaven, and the same desire
to escape and plunge back into the dense and impure atmosphere in
which evil finds its life and enjoyment. If she had come with any good
purpose, it would have been different, but evil, and only evil, was in
her heart; and when this felt the sphere of love and purity, her breast
was constricted and life seemed going out of her.

It was little less than torture to Pinky for the short time she
remained. As soon as she was satisfied that Edith would not be there,
she threw down the garment on which she had been pretending to sew, and
almost ran from the room.

"Who is that girl