Faith stared very hard at Meg but made no reply, and Meg having devoured a small piece of dry crust, which remained over from the little which she had put carefully by for Faith to eat while she was out, lay down on the bed and dropped asleep. She awoke in the dusk of the evening to find Faith kneeling by her bed. Faith had lit a little bit of fire, and its cheerful rays revealed a change in her thin face, her eyes had lost their hardness and were full of tears. "Meg, Meg!" she said, "near h'all the time you ha' bin asleep I ha' bin praying, and I think, I do think as Jesus has quite forgiven me." "Ah! 'tis jest wonderful how willin' He is to forgive," said Meg, "and wot cuts me h'up so is when folks know that, why they're allus a fretting of Him." "Well, I'll try not to fret Him no more," said Faith. "Faith," said Meg lying still, and gazing hard at Faith out of her big black eyes, "how long 'ud you say as gals like me, under-fed, under-clothed gals, 'ud be like to live?" "I dunno," answered Faith in some surprise; "I suppose same as other folks." "No they don't though," replied Meg; "it comforts me a deal to think on it, fur they most sartin don't. Ef they're wot's called lucky and don't catch no 'fection, and don't meet no h'accident, why then they may pull through; they lives then to be werry, werry skinny and ugly. Ugh! I shivers when I sees 'em; I says to myself, that's me when I'm old. But, Faith, the chances ere h'all agen gals like me living to be old; let the least bit o' 'fection come to a gal like me, or the werry smallest h'accident, so as I'd have ter be tuk to 'orspital, and then where am I? why, no where. You never, never seen a gal like me come h'out of 'orspital, Faithy." "But, Meg," said little Faith, "why do you say it comforts you to think that?" "Well, and so it do! Why, Faith, I'm no use down yere; no one wants me, and I h'an't never a chance as far as this world goes, besides, besides," and here Meg pressed her hand upon her beating heart, "besides, I ha' a real hankering to see Him. Oh! to see wid my h'own, h'own eyes the lovely, lovely face o' Jesus! and then perhaps arter a time He'd take a bit o' notice of me and say, `Is that you, Meg? I know as you love me, Meg.'" Faith was silent, too puzzled, too unlike Meg in her own frame of mind to make any reply, and after a time the two little girls went out. As they went down the street which led from the court to the more open thoroughfares, Meg said something which comforted her little companion greatly. "I think, Faith," she said, "as we'll werry, werry soon now see little Roy; I think may be as we'll find him to-night." "Oh Meg! oh! where?" asked Faith. "I dunno, only I feel it. Jest you wait and see." As Meg said this the little girls turned a corner and came full upon the flaring light of one of the largest gin-palaces in the neighbourhood.