A week passed before Faith went to the store again. She was too utterly miserable to think of resuming her duties.
Mr. Watkins called on her every night to bring her news of the store, and by this means she kept track of all Mr. Denton's changes.
One night Mr. Watkins had mentioned a number of things which had benefited the clerks as well as the customers, and in concluding his recital he sighed very heavily, an indication to Faith that there was something more behind it.
"Why do you sigh, Mr. Watkins?" she asked, abruptly. "It seems to me that these changes should bring nothing but smiles, they are such necessary reforms, yet they have been so long in coming."
"I was thinking of Mr. Denton, I suppose," was the answer. "He's such a good man now that I hate to see him go to the wall completely. Why, Miss Marvin, have you any idea what these reforms have cost? I cannot tell you the figures exactly, of course; but the bills for the past month are enough to frighten one. If he continues his present methods he will not be in business a year longer."
"I thought so," said Mrs. Marvin, quickly. "Religion and business cannot be combined. The man who follows his conscience is sure to lose money."
"But he gains that which is better," spoke up Faith, quickly. "Ask Mr. Denton if this is not true. He has found it so already."
"Well, his poor wife doesn't share his sentiments," said Mr. Watkins, "for she has worried so fearfully over his enormous losses already that she is now on the verge of losing her reason."
"Poor soul," said Mrs. Marvin; "she must be a very worldly woman, for, while extreme poverty is cruel, still, she will probably never reach that condition."
"I am not so sure," replied Mr. Watkins, "but even moderate comfort would be cruel to her, for she was born and has always lived in the lap of luxury."