“This woman, a deserted wife,” said the young lady, “sews packing-bags for the factory near. By working fourteen hours a day she can earn eight shillings a week; and the man who pays the wages has five shillings back for rent. It is iniquitous, all of it! It is a shame to pay so little for so much work; and it is even worse robbery to take more than a nominal rent for such a disgraceful place. Robbery! It is murder! And the man who has committed it would have to take his trial for it if there were any justice in England.” Arthur looked into the flushed face lifted so accusingly to his own with mixed feelings. He felt almost like a schoolboy being scolded, or like the prisoner she had spoken of arraigned before a judge who would have very little mercy; and he was almost amused at her vehemence, too. “Really—yes,” he stammered. “It is, as you say, iniquitous, all of it. Believe me, so far as I am responsible, it shall be changed. In the meantime, let me do what I can for this woman. Cannot she be removed to the hospital? Allow me——” He took some money from his purse and held it towards her, but she refused it. “I have taken this case in hand,” she said. “You will find plenty of others quite near if you are really in earnest; but what all these people want is not charity, but justice.” “It is good of you to visit and help them,” began Knight; but the young lady smiled a peculiar smile that made him feel uncomfortable. “Good?” she said. “If any of us were good, we would surely be able to prevent such things as these.” Knight much wished to know something of the young lecturer who had so taken him to task; but she dismissed him with a stately bow, and there was nothing for him but to leave, more resolute than ever to at once begin what really appeared a hopeless task. But early the next morning he had an inspiration. It was possible for him, with the money which he had and could make, to take his business and his people out of this terrible city altogether, and he would do it! What a chance he had! He could plan a model town; and there set his people to work under far different conditions. He felt that the thought was a call from God, and he had some minutes of such joyous thankfulness as come to few men in a lifetime. Here was a bit of work that suited him exactly; and with all the energy he had, he at once set about making the thought an accomplished fact. He had an inheritance, indeed, of duty and of joy. CHAPTER VII. MARY WYTHBURN’S WEDDING.