The question was asked by the woman in a business-like manner, but as Faith hesitated before answering the sharp eyes twinkled a little. "Am I obliged to give my address?" asked Faith very slowly. "Certainly--it's the rule of the house." The woman frowned as she answered. Faith gave her address in a faltering voice. She had hoped to be able to keep that a secret. The woman wrote down the address on a piece of paper. "A mother and father?" was the next brief question. Faith's face was scarlet now, but she answered promptly. "A mother, yes; but my father is dead. He was Douglass Marvin. He owned a bookstore in this block. When Denton, Day & Co. opened their book department my father was ruined." The woman looked at her enviously as she asked the next question. "How did you happen to come to this store to look for work? Don't you resent the injury that was done to your father?" In a second Faith Marvin's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, no!" she cried hastily. "I bear no resentment! I know it is always the weak who must suffer! I came here because I was desperately in need of work. My mother's health is failing and we are penniless." "Well, it's lucky you're so forgiving," said the woman with a peculiar stare; "but come, you must report to Miss Fairbanks, the buyer in the ribbon department! She's on the first floor. I'll take you to her." Miss Fairbanks looked Faith over almost as sharply as the other woman had done. She was short-handed that morning, so there was no time for preliminaries. "Ever work in a store before?" was her first business-like question. "No, madam," said Faith timidly; "I have had no experience at all, but I am sure I shall learn quickly if you will be so kind as to teach me." She was beginning to tremble a little for fear the woman would not try her. "Oh, I guess you'll do if you are not too stuck up," said the buyer carelessly. "Girls who have never worked in a store always think they know it all, and that sort of thing doesn't go, not in my department!" She led Faith up to one of the gates at the ribbon counter and showed her how to crawl up to the packer's desk above the shelves, where the stock was kept. "Now, when one of the saleswomen hands you up a check and some ribbon you must measure the ribbon carefully to see that the firm is not being cheated," she explained in a shrill voice, "and if one of the girls makes a mistake report it to me immediately." Faith was up by this time and trying to accommodate herself to the awkward position, while she listened intently to all the buyer's instructions. The packer's desk was so low that it cramped her limbs even in sitting, and Faith soon saw that she was older and larger than any other girl in that position on the floor.