putting us out again! Grandaddy says God is good and kind and
that He'll never forsake us. But I don't think He cares about us, or
He wouldn't let all these awful things happen to us." She had been
growing more and more excited as the recital continued. Her cheeks
burned and she plucked nervously at her apron. Now a desperate look
came into her eyes, her voice rose shrilly and Elizabeth gazed at her
in terror.

"Did you see that man that was here when you came?" Elizabeth nodded,
a new terror clutching her heart. Until now she had not realized that
there might be far fiercer beasts of prey than even the wolves of
poverty following Eppie's footsteps. "He's a bad man, Lizzie, but he's
been kind to me. He gave me money yesterday or grandaddy would a'
starved. Bad people are better to you than good people. He gave me
money if I'd promise to go and keep house for him. And I'm
going--to-morrow--and I'll get bad too--everybody round here's bad and
I don't care any more----"

She burst into violent sobbing again, and Elizabeth could only hold her
tight and say over and over in helpless woe, "Oh, Eppie, my poor
Eppie." For of the two girls clinging together in the damp little
hovel, perhaps the more fortunate one was experiencing a greater depth
of despair. A very chaos of darkness had descended upon Elizabeth's
soul. She was taking her first glimpse of that world of misery and
shame into which Eppie was being so ruthlessly driven, and her whole
soul recoiled. To her excited imagination the girl in her arms was the
sacrifice offered for her own comfort. It seemed as though the price
of the boxes of roses and candy that were lavished upon her, had been
wrung from those poor helpless hands now clutching her so desperately.
And Mrs. Jarvis too; Elizabeth arraigned her before the ruthless
tribunal of her awakened conscience. Why had she let all this happen,
when she could have prevented it with a word?

Suddenly Eppie stopped sobbing and raised her head listening.
Elizabeth looked at her and followed her eyes to the bed. The old man
had made a slight movement, and uttered a strange, choking cough. His
granddaughter ran to him with incoherent murmurs of endearment.
Elizabeth following tenderly, the girl turned down the ragged coverlid,
and laid her hand on his wrinkled forehead. There was the stamp of
death on his peaceful old face.

"What's the matter?" whispered Elizabeth.

Eppie turned upon her wild eye