apher. For some time longer Jane's
typewriter clicks unceasingly, and it is nearly dusk before her task is
finished and she is free to lock her office door and leave the building
for the night.

She walks rapidly along the darkening streets, sorry that she is so
late. She fears Marie will have been watching for her all the afternoon
and worrying perhaps, little Marie, the lame factory girl whom she has
befriended, the girl with eyes so strangely like to Richard's. The
resemblance is startling at times, though Richard's eyes were ever
merry, ever dancing with fun and mischief, while Marie's are grave and
sweet and sad. Still, the likeness is there, and probably that is the
reason that Jane has been so anxious to help this girl, scarce more than
a child, who had appealed to her for aid. Marie was by no means the
first to seek her assistance in time of need, for Miss Horton's name
stands for all that is kind and gracious and helpful in every department
of the factory. The woman who has succeeded, who has worked her way up,
step by step, to a position of trust and confidence, does not forget the
time when she stood, as Marie does now, with her foot upon the lowest
round of the ladder. She never forgets the days when she worked as they
work, and is ever ready to extend a helping hand to those who need it.
To her, then, Marie had come, as had so many others before her, in her
hour of trial and distress. Hastening along the street, Jane smiles as
she recalls the day Marie had first tapped upon her office door and,
entering timidly, waited for permission to speak. Jane had been
unusually busy and frowned impatiently at the interruption. The eyes,
so like to Richard's, had quelled her anger and she listened to the
girl's story.

It was Jackie was the trouble this time, Jackie who came next to her and
who helped in the support of the family. He'd just broken his leg and
was in the hospital and there was no telling when he would be out again.
The twins were sick, too, and there were Nellie and Minnie and the
little baby, and mother not strong enough to work even if she had time
to leave the children. Father? Well, that's just where Miss Horton's
help was needed. Father had worked here in the factory, out in the
shipping-room, but they'd discharged him several weeks ago. Yes, father
had been discharged before, many times before, and had been taken back
again. This time they would not let him come back though he had begged
and ple