A VISITOR AT THE FLAT.
For the next few days Faith heard no more about the box of poisoned
candy, but she was not allowed to entirely forget it, for Ben Tyler, the
detective, almost haunted the department.
If he was looking for the culprit there he did not show it, for he
laughed and chatted with all the girls whenever he had an opportunity.
Maggie Brady had come back to find her "bargain counter" gone, but Miss
Fairbanks had already received orders to put her behind the regular
counter.
This brought Faith and Maggie nearer together than ever, and the hatred
in Maggie's face was very apparent, although she schooled herself to be
fairly pleasant.
Faith treated her as kindly as possible, but for all that she
occasionally caught Maggie glaring at her between half closed lids in a
manner that thrilled her with fresh suspicions.
At those times Faith felt a nervousness that she could not control. She
almost dreaded to turn her back upon the morbid young woman.
More than once she thought of Lou Willis' words that "Maggie Brady was a
sneak and a coward, who waited until dark before attacking the object of
her hatred."
But this always led her to think of Lou Willis, herself, and to question
over and over her well meant decision to try and help the girl to be
honest by not reporting her dishonesty.
She met Lou often now, and always talked to her cordially, but she could
feel that she made slow headway into the young woman's confidence.
"You and I are so different," Miss Willis said one day. "You seem to
enjoy playing the proprieties, while I just hate them!"
"But I don't think I am altogether proper, as you call it," Faith
answered. "I do lots of things that are not conventional and lots that
are unusual, still I always try to follow my conscience."
"Conscience, what's that?" asked Lou, with a grimace. "They made me
without one I guess, and I'm mighty glad of it!"
"But surely you wish to do right, don't you, Miss Willis?"
Faith's eyes were eager with hope as she asked the question.
"Oh, what difference does it make whether I do or don't? Do what you
please and don't get caught, that's my motto!" laughed the girl.
"But you surely will get caught some day," said Faith soberly. "No one
can ignore or break the laws of God and man without being ultimately
brought to punishment or repentance."
"Well, so far as the laws of God go, I'm not worrying," said Lou, with a
shrug. "He made me as I am and as He wanted me, I suppose. I'm sure I
hope He's satisfied with His creation! If He ain't, He can make me over
if He's so almighty powerful, but when it comes to the laws of man, why
that's a different matter."
"And how do you regard those?" asked Faith, trying hard not to be
shocked. The woman's answer came like a clap of thunder.
"I look upon man's laws as my natural enemies," she said sullenly. "They
are made by a lot of people who know nothing of misery or starvation,
and who are as incompetent to judge my actions as I am to judge theirs.
In other words, man's laws are all institutions of the devil! They force
you to steal and then punish you for doing so!"
After a little of this reasoning Faith grew more helpless than ever. It
was like trying to melt an iceberg with a sunbeam to thaw that callous
nature. Only Lou's violent temper and intense hatred of her enemies kept
the woman from being adamant in matters moral or spiritual.
She surprised Faith frequently with her outbursts of remorse, the most
of which were bestowed in the direction of Miss Brady.
"I saw her smiling at you to-day," she said to Faith one night. "Look
out for her, Miss Innocent, that's when she's most likely to stab you!"
Faith trembled for fear that Lou would hear in some way of the box of
poisoned candy, but strangely enough it had been hushed up for the
present.
Some power, unknown to Faith, had stopped every tongue from blabbing.
"I expect it is some of Mr. Denton's good work," she said to her mother
one night as they sat at supper with little Dick between them. "If he
can stop the gossip in the store he will accomplish a great deal, for I
believe half of the bad friendships between the clerks are made through
idle gossip."
"He is doing wonders," sighed Mrs. Marvin in answer. "At last I am
hearing of what looks to be conscientious Christianity."
"You will hear of much more, I am sure, mother," said Faith, "for I am
told that Mr. Forbes intends to remain in the firm, and that looks as if
he indorsed Mr. Denton."
"Or awaiting the outcome," added her mother quietly. She could never
quite accept her daughter's innocent reasoning.
While they were still talking, a letter was delivered from Mr. Watkins.
He was "doing nicely at the hospital," he said, and "on the straight
road to recovery," but what was better still, Mr. Denton was coming for
his mother and had assured him that his position at the store was still
open to him.
"Mr. Forbes must certainly acquiesce to that, mother," said Faith again,
"for Mr. Watkins was his office assistant; Mr. Denton would hardly put
him back if his partner was not willing."
Mrs. Marvin was about to reply when their bell rang sharply. Both rose
from the table and went into the little parlor. A moment later some one
tapped at the door, and Faith opened it promptly. She confronted an
acquaintance; it was the man whom she had met, and who had written her
the note signed "Cornelius C. Deering."
For an instant Faith was shocked out of every semblance of hospitality.
She stood staring at the man as if he were an intruder.
Like a flash it passed through her mind that she had not answered his
letter, and that he had presumed upon that silence to force his presence
upon her. The next instant she was brought swiftly back to her senses,
for the man was staring back at her as though she were a ghost, and the
expression on his face was almost pitiful.
"What is it, sir? What has happened?" she asked, taking a step forward.
"I think I have made a mistake," said the man, huskily. "I had no idea,
I assure you, of intruding upon you."
"There are twenty families in the house, so your mistake is natural,"
said Faith coldly. "Pray mention the name you wish, as I can probably
direct you."
"I am looking for a lady and her daughter," said the man distinctly,
"the lady is my sister whom I have not seen in twenty years. She is a
widow, and her name is Mrs. Adelaide Marvin."
With a gasp of horror Faith staggered back into the room just as her
mother sprang forward with a joyous greeting.
"Oh, Charles, my brother!" she cried, falling on his shoulder. "How I
have longed to see you, you naughty boy, every day since you ran away
from us in dear old England!"