"Then they tell me, too, that he's having a lunch-room and restaurant for employees built on the sixth floor of the building. All the goods that were stored there are being taken to the basement."
"And we cash girls are all to be fired!" spoke up "Number 83," sadly, "except those who are healthy and over fourteen. The rest of us that ain't got any parents have got to go to Gerry's, or, if we have got parents, they've got to support us—that's what the boss says, but it sounds mighty like a 'pipe dream.'"
"It sounds like a sensible arrangement," said Faith, seriously, "for it's a shame that such children should have to work! Why, you ought to be in school this very minute!"
"Well, I'd rather be here," said "83" very shortly. "There ain't no fun in a school-room, and what's the good of studyin', anyhow?"
"But don't you wish to be able to cipher and to read books?" said Faith.
"What's the use?" was the answer; "they don't tell you nothin', at least not nothin' about how to earn your livin'!"
Faith gave up in despair. She was baffled at every turn. The only ray of sunshine that she could see was in Mr. Denton's rapidly developing improvements.
As she mounted the stairs to the sixth floor to eat her luncheon in the new quarters, she was surprised to find Sam Watkins waiting at the top of the last flight, apparently on the lookout for her.
"This is Miss Marvin, ain't it?" he asked when he saw her, at the same time drawing a package out from under his jacket. "I was told to give you this," he whispered, shyly. "Here, take it, quick, while there ain't no one lookin'! Them gals would turn green if they knowed you had a whole box of candy!"
Faith took the box and looked at it sharply. There was no card this time, but she felt sure it was from James Denton.