"No matter, go to them," said Zell, almost fiercely. "I tell you there is no place for you here, unless you wish to go to perdition. Go home, where you are known. Scrub, delve, do anything rather than stay here. Your big brother can and will take care of you, though he does look so cross."
"She is right, my child; you had better go at once," said the lady, decidedly.
"Who are you?" asked Rose of the latter speaker, with some curiosity.
"I am a city missionary," answered the lady, quietly, "and it is my business to help such poor girls as you are. I say to you from full knowledge, and in all sincerity, to go home is the very best thing that you can do."
"But why is there not a chance for a poor, well-meaning girl to earn an honest living in this great city?"
"Thousands are earning such a living, but there is not one chance in a hundred for you."
"Why?" asked Rose, hotly,
"Do you see all these houses? They are full of people," continued Mrs. Ranger, "and some of them contain many families. In these families there are thousands of girls who have a home, a shelter, and protectors here in the city. They have society in relatives and neighbors. They have no board to pay, and fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, helping support them. They put all their earnings into a common fund, and it supports the family. Such girls can afford, and will work for two, three, four, and five dollars a week. All that they earn makes the burden so much less on the father, who otherwise would have supported them in idleness. Now, a homeless stranger in the city must pay board, and therefore they can't compete with those who live here. Wages are kept too low. Not one in a hundred, situated as you are, can earn enough to pay board and dress as they are required to in the fashionable stores. Have you been able?"
"No," groaned Rose. "I am in debt to my landlady now, and I had some money to start with."
"There it is," said Mrs. Ranger, sadly; "the same old story."