SOME STARTLING CHANGES.
As the days went by the employees of the big department store became
gradually aware that something had happened. The first intimation came
from the daily papers, in which was given a more or less truthful
account of Mr. Day's withdrawal from the firm on the grounds that he
disapproved of his senior partner's new business methods.
What these methods were it remained to be seen. The clerks were hopeful
of some reforms, but for a while they only wondered and waited.
Miss Fairbanks stopped at Faith's counter early one morning, when the
store was comparatively empty, and began talking to her in an unusually
affable manner.
"There's something going to happen here soon," she said, confidently.
"And, in my opinion, it's going to be pretty serious. Either Mr. Denton
has got religion, or else he's gone crazy, for he's giving us buyers a
lot of orders nowadays that will mean the failure of the firm if we are
obliged to obey them."
"Why, what are they, Miss Fairbanks?" Faith asked in surprise. Miss
Jones came up also and listened for the answer.
"Well, in the first place, we are not to beat down the drummers any
more, but are to offer them fair prices on all our orders. Then we are
to learn, if possible, who makes the goods that we buy, for Mr. Denton
says he does not want to make a profit out of some poor woman's work
while she is going half clothed and perhaps sick and starving."
"Why, the man is stark mad," said Miss Jones, in amazement. "As if it
was any concern of his what other people work for!"
"I think he is quite right," remarked Faith, very soberly. "I can
understand how he feels, and I think he is very brave to give such
orders."
"Then he says," went on Miss Fairbanks, "that there are to be new
arrangements for you girls. You are to be relieved every two hours for
about twenty minutes. That means, of course, that he is going to hire a
lot of new help, and I, for one, am sorry, for there'll be blunders by
the hundred."
"Oh, perhaps not," said Faith, brightly. "I hope not, anyway, for your
sake, Miss Fairbanks. I know just how annoying it is for you, who have
so many clerks to look after."
Miss Fairbanks looked at her gratefully, but with a little surprise. It
was not often that one of her girls expressed any sympathy for her.
"Then, there's to be a full hour at luncheon," continued the buyer after
a minute, "and the best of all is that we are to have a new lunch-room.
No more eating in that rat hole down in the basement."
"Well, that is good news," said Miss Jones delightedly. "Really, I begin
to think that the millennium is coming!"
"Or the Kingdom of God," said Faith, very happily. "There is no doubt in
my mind but that Mr. Denton has become a Christian."
Both women stared at her as she spoke, but, for a wonder, neither of
them scoffed at her statement.
Miss Fairbanks recovered herself first and asked a very natural
question.
"What do you mean by saying that he has become a Christian? Why, Mr.
Denton has been a member of the church ever since I can remember."
"Alas!" sighed Faith sadly. "That doesn't always signify, Miss
Fairbanks. He may have accepted Christ but not Christ's spirit; but it
is plain now that the very essence of godliness is awakening within him.
If this is so I can predict that there will be great changes in this
store and that every one will be for the comfort of its toilers."
A few customers coming in cut short the conversation, and as Maggie
Brady was absent the department was short-handed, as usual, so that
there was only an odd minute or two for idling.
"I wonder if Miss Brady is ill?" said Faith as she squeezed by Miss
Jones in the narrow space behind the counter.
"It will go hard with her if she doesn't show up pretty soon," was the
answer, "for between you and me, I believe Gunning hates her."
"Oh, these dreadful hatreds," said Faith, with a sigh. "Poor Miss Brady
looks so wretched. I don't see how any one can hate her."
"Well, you see, she was engaged to Gunning once, and she might better
have married him than to have thrown herself away on Jim Denton."
Cash girl Number 83 came up as she spoke. She was the girl who had first
told Faith that Mr. Watkins was very ill and in the hospital, and it was
evident by her manner that she had something else to tell her.
"What is it, 83?" asked Faith, expectantly. "Have you heard any news of
Mr. Watkins' condition?"
"Yes, and I've heard more'n that," said the little girl quickly, "but I
won't spring it all on you at once, for it might shock you, Miss
Marvin."
Faith was puzzled at her words, but she tried to restrain her eagerness
until the girl had given a package to a customer and come back to the
counter.
"Mr. Watkins is better--lots better," she said, gayly. "They say the
boss has been to see him in his howling swell carriage, and they've
fixed up the matter about the money all right; they must have, because
Sammy Watkins is back in his old position."
"Oh, that is lovely," cried Faith, clasping her hands together.
"Well, the rest ain't so lovely!" said the cash girl, grinning, "for I
saw Mag Brady on the street last night. She was drunk as a toper, and
she says she's a-goin' to 'do' you!"
"What!" gasped Faith, in astonishment as the cash girl finished, "Miss
Brady intoxicated! You surely don't mean it?"
"Oh, don't I?" said the child, with a worldly leer. "I mean lots more
than that, only I'm too nice to say it."
She walked away to answer another call while Faith stared first at Miss
Fairbanks and then at Miss Jones. Both had heard the words yet they were
laughing at her amazement.
"You are easily shocked," said Miss Fairbanks, with a shrug. "Why, any
one with half an eye could see that Mag Brady loves whiskey."
"That's another thing that Jim Denton taught her," said Miss Jones
indifferently. "Why, I knew Mag Brady when she was as innocent as you
are."
"But can nothing be done to reclaim her?" asked Faith, eagerly. "You say
you knew her when she was different, Miss Jones; have you ever tried to
save her from ruin?"
"I mind my own business," said Miss Jones, haughtily, "and I find that
is all I can possibly do. Mag Brady must save herself if she wants to be
saved, but, between you and me, I don't think she wants to."
"But you--you are her friend," Faith cried, turning to Miss Fairbanks;
"do promise me that you will plead with her; it might do wonders! Just
think how you would feel if the poor girl was your sister!"
Miss Fairbanks seemed earnest and sincere as she replied:
"I will certainly advise her if she gives me the chance. Poor girl, I am
sorry for her, but I doubt if I can save her."
"Then we must all pray that God will do so," whispered Faith, very
soberly. "It is a wrong that we will all be held responsible for; to see
her going down to destruction and not try to save her!"
Miss Jones wheeled around and went to a customer, but Miss Fairbanks
paused and looked at Faith for a moment.
"I would give the world to possess your faith," she said, hesitatingly;
"but there's no use--no use--I'm too great a sinner."
There was no chance to reply, for she walked away as she spoke. In a
second she was talking to a customer in her usual business-like manner.
As Faith turned to look over her stock she heard some one speak.
There was a colored man at her counter holding a letter out toward her.
"Dis yere lettah fo' you, missy," he said, with a wide grin. "Dar ain't
no name on it, honey, but I know's yo' face. Yo' is num'er fo' eleben.
Reckin ain't no 'stake 'bout it!"
"I am Number 411, certainly," said Faith, politely, "but I can't imagine
who would write me a letter; still, if you are sure it's for me, I
suppose I must accept."
"Oh, it's fo' you all right," said the negro, decidedly, "fo' de capting
p'inted yo' out on de street las' ebenin'."
Faith took the letter and opened it hastily. As she glanced rapidly over
the writing she blushed as red as a poppy.
"Got a mash note?" asked Miss Jones with a careless glance at the
letter.
"Not exactly," stammered Faith, "but it is almost as unpleasant. It is
from a man whom Bob Hardy spoke to me about--a fellow who thinks because
I am poor that he can buy my soul with his superfluous money!"