"I am glad to be able to earn my living!" she said sternly; "it is ever so much nobler than to be living on one's parents!"
The flush that mantled the young man's brow showed that her words had struck home, but he tried to turn it off with a neatly put compliment.
"I'm a sad beggar, I know, Miss Marvin, but I'm going to reform! I never wanted to be different until, well, until now—to be honest."
"You are not serious, Mr. Denton; I see laughter in your eyes," said Faith, smiling. "But I will get up the petition at once, as you suggest, and I shall pray that our appeal may not be in vain."
She had paused at a street corner and was extending her hand to say good-by to the young man when a woman passed them and jostled Faith rudely.
It was Maggie Brady, the girl who loved Jim Denton. As she faced them for a second both saw that her eyes gleamed dangerously. Without even stopping she made a remark to Faith—the words were hissed between her teeth with the venom of a serpent.
"You'll be sorry for this, you little hypocrite! I thought you were too pious to be altogether healthy!"
Faith turned as pale as death as the woman strode on; James Denton was smiling in a half-hearted manner.
"That is the result of your flirting," Faith managed to say at last. "Oh, Mr. Denton, can't you see what you've done? You've made that woman love you, and now she is going straight to destruction!"