Almost instinctively the two girls drew away from the others. There was a bond of sympathy between them that they could not account for. "Do tell me your name," whispered Miss Jennings at once. "It does sound so 'shoppy' to be always saying 'packer.'" She had opened her bag and taken out a cracker. It was evident that there was no time to be wasted in lunching. "Call me Faith, if you will. I should like to have you so much! I think it will make me feel a little less strange," was the impulsive answer. "I will if you'll call me Mary," replied Miss Jennings. "I've just been longing to talk to you all the morning, but there's no dodging Miss Fairbanks' eye; it's always upon you." "Are we not supposed to speak at all?" asked Faith, who was forgetting to eat her luncheon. "Oh, yes, we can speak, but not if there are customers waiting. But, tell me, how do you happen to be a packer? You are too old for that kind of work, and quite too clever, I'm sure," said Miss Jennings kindly. Faith told her how difficult it had been to get any position at all, but she did not dream of telling her how closely her name and work had been connected with the matter. When she spoke of Mr. Forbes, Miss Jennings fairly shuddered. "He's a terrible brute," she said in a nervous whisper. "And what do you think, Faith; he's a Sunday-school teacher!" "Oh no, it can't be!" Faith caught her breath with a shiver. "I mean, it doesn't seem possible," she added after a minute. "Yes, he is," reiterated Miss Jennings soberly. "I used to go to the same church. Now I don't go to any--I have no use for religion!" She started coughing, and this gave Faith an opportunity to recover from the shock. When the spasm was over she put her arms affectionately over Miss Jennings' shoulder. "What has turned you against religion, dear?" she asked very softly. "Is it such men as Mr. Forbes, or just the bitterness from misfortune?" "Both," said Miss Jennings stubbornly and with a little frown on her face. "If God is good, why is there so much misery? If He is just, why are we subjected to such terrible oppression, and if He is merciful, why doesn't He hear us when we pray to Him to help us bear our burdens?" There was a ring of defiance in Miss Jennings' tones. As Faith looked at the pinched features her frame became almost convulsed with anguish. "Oh, I wish I could answer all your questions, dear!" she cried softly, "and I can, I am sure, if you will just lay aside your bitterness! You are holding black glasses to your own eyes, you poor child, but the light will come; you must keep on praying for it!" "There is no use, Faith. I've prayed until I'm tired. But don't mind me, dear. I'm what they call a pessimist. I look on the dark side of everything, I suppose; but listen, do you hear what that cash girl is saying?" Faith shook her head. She had heard nothing but her companion's words.