"You see, it is this way, miss. I was thinking of the sweetest little girl in the whole big world, and when I saw your face you were so much like her that to save my soul I could not help that exclamation. You will pardon me, I am sure, for I meant no harm whatever! I am old enough to be your father, so you see you have no reason to fear me."
"I spoke hastily," said Faith, slowly. "I had no wish to be rude, but you must admit that I had cause to feel a little startled."
"You did, indeed, and I apologize humbly, but am I not right in thinking that I have seen you somewhere before? Are you not employed in the department store of Denton, Day & Co.?"
Faith looked at him in surprise.
"I have worked there two days," she began, a little hastily.
"And I have seen you twice," replied the stranger, promptly. "Your face is a sweet one. I could not forget it."
The words were spoken so quietly that Faith could not resent them. She was moving slowly toward her home now, feeling a little bit nervous.
"That is a dreadful life for a girl," went on the man, very quietly. "It is agony for the poor things, both of mind and body!"
"You are right, sir," cried Faith, who had thought instantly of Miss Jennings. "The shop girls' life is one continuous drudgery. She is the slave of circumstances and the victim of conditions."
"I am surprised that so many enter the life. There are surely other vocations. They choose the hardest one possible."