aken her right
to the door of Heeler's, and that it was twelve o'clock, and the girls
were already pouring out from work.

She was crimson with confusion as she paid her fare. She wished the
earth would open and swallow her up. Several of the girls came up to
stare and speak to her.

"My word! Faith Ledley's going the pace! Someone left you a fortune,
Faith? Where have you been? Old Dell was mad when you didn't turn up
this morning."

Faith stammered her reply. "I'm not coming back any more. I've left. I
want to see Peg. Where's Peg? Oh, there she is!"

She broke through the little group and ran after her friend, calling to
her breathlessly.

Peg turned reluctantly. There was a grim sort of look on her handsome
face.

"Well, where have you been?" she demanded.

Faith slipped a hand through her arm.

"I've got so much to tell you," she said. "It seems so long since we
met. Are you better?"

"Well enough," was the uncompromising reply, and Peg jerked Faith's arm
from her. "What have you been doing?" she asked again.

Faith smiled and blushed rosily.

"I've been getting married," she said with sudden boldness.

"Married? A kid like you!" Peg stared. "Well," she said then bluntly, "I
only hope he's some decent chap and not like the rotten sort you were
having tea with the other day when I saw you."

The colour died from Faith's cheeks, her heartbeats slowed down
sickeningly.

"What--what do you mean?" she faltered.

"I mean what I say," said Peg firmly. "I thought better of you, that I
did--having tea with him! Where did you pick him up I should like to
know?"

Faith tried to answer, but no words would come.

"I suppose you thought I shouldn't recognize him," Peg went on
wrathfully, "but I knew him right enough, the mean, selfish brute....
I----"

Faith caught her arm in shaking fingers.

"Peg, do you know who you're talking about?" she gasped. Peg laughed.

"Do I? I should rather say I do! Once seen never forgotten, my dear! I'm
talking about the man you were having tea with the other day--Scammel,
the brute we're all slaving for to make him rich."

For a moment Faith stared at her friend, then she laughed.

"Well, you're wrong, quite wrong," she said, with a little sigh of
relief. "His name isn't Scammel at all--his name is Nicholas Forrester,
and so...."

Peg shrugged her shoulders.

"So it may be, for all I know, but he's Scammel, and he owns Heeler's.
Ask him, if you don't believe me.