“She wouldn’t eat the things I had brought her, and when I talked to her she didn’t seem to understand, but said things about father, who died so long ago, and once or twice she laughed, but it only made me cry. She didn’t seem to see me either, and when I spoke to her it only started her to talk about something else, so I watched and watched. I didn’t pray any more. Somehow all the prayer had left my soul. Just before morning she got very still, sometimes a rolling sound would gurgle in her throat, but when I offered her a drink she couldn’t swallow, and then I called to her--I couldn’t stand it any longer--‘Mother, mother, speak to me. I have always loved you, speak to me once,’ and her dear lips moved and I bent over her, holding my breath for fear I would not hear, and she whispered: ‘Lucille--my--pretty--one,’ and then her eyes opened and her head fell to one side, but she didn’t see; she was dead--dead without one word to me, and I loved her so.” * * * * * Dido Morgan shared her own scant dinner with Maggie that day, and the unhappy girl remained at work that she might earn some money, which would help towards burying her mother. That afternoon foreman Flint came in, and, nailing a paper to the elevator shaft, told the girls to read it, saying he’d teach them to disobey another time, and that next week they would work harder for their money. In fear and trembling the girls crowded timidly about the shaft to read what new misery the foreman had in store for them. They instinctively felt it was a reduction, and the first glance proved their fears were not unfounded. Some of the girls began to cry, and Dido, the bravest and strongest, spoke excitedly to them of the injustice done them. Even now they were working for less than other factories were paying. “There is surely justice for girls as well as men somewhere in the world, if we only demand it,” she cried, encouragingly. “Let us demand our rights. We will all go down, and I will tell the proprietor that we cannot live under this new reduction. If he promises us the old prices, we will return to work. If he refuses, we will strike.” The braver girls heartily joined the scheme, and the weaker ones naturally fell in, not knowing what else to do under the circumstances, and frightened at their own boldness. Dido Morgan, taking little Margaret Williams by the hand, naturally headed the line, and the girls quietly marched after her, two by two, down the almost perpendicular stairs. Dido stopped before the ground-glass door on the first floor, on which was inscribed: ............................ . TOLMAN BIKE, . . . . PRIVATE. . ............................ Her heart beat very quickly, but clasping Maggie’s hand closer, she opened the door and entered. CHAPTER V. THE FAILURE OF THE STRIKE.