was finally cemented. In a hundred small ways Peg
proved herself nobly. She helped Faith through the long, weary days,
taking extra work upon her own capable shoulders to save the younger
girl; shielding her many times from the petty disagreeablenesses of the
room and the sharp tongue of Miss Dell.

"You're not fit for a life like this," Peg said once angrily. "Why
doesn't your mother send you somewhere better?"

Faith gave a little wavering smile. "It's not so easy now to get work,"
she said.

Her little face had grown pale and peaked during the last week, and
there were shadows beneath her soft brown eyes.

"I should go sick if I were you," Peg advised one morning.

"It's no worse for me than it is for the rest of you," Faith answered.
But in her heart she knew that she could not stand it much longer.
Sometimes she felt as if she could not breathe in the hot, noisy room.

Then one night, going home, she fainted.

One moment she had been quite well, walking with hurried, eager steps
through the sun-baked streets, and the next the pavement seemed to rise
up to her face, and she knew no more....

"If only someone of you would get some water instead of standing
staring ... here--let me come!"

She struggled back to consciousness to the sound of a man's impatient
voice, and then she felt herself gently raised by a strong arm and
something was held to her lips.

She turned her head protestingly. "Don't ... don't ... I'm all
right...." And then quite suddenly she burst into tears--tears of sheer
weakness that would not be checked.

Ashamed, she covered her face with her trembling hands; and then she
felt herself lifted and carried and set down gently against softly
padded cushions.

She looked up with scared eyes. She was lying back in the luxurious seat
of a motor-car and a man with a big, burly figure was standing at its
door, his face turned from her, talking to a policeman.

"All right, constable, I'll see her home," she heard him say. She saw
the policeman salute and stand back, and the next moment the car was
moving slowly away from the kerb.

Faith sat up with a frightened gasp, the colour coming back to her
white cheeks.

"Where are you taking me? Oh, I'd much rather walk."

The big man was sitting opposite to her now, and his eyes were kind as
they noted her distress.

"It's all right," he said cheerily. "You're not fit to walk. Just tell
me where you live and I'll drive you straight home. Fee