Patty Durgin hesitated visibly when Margaret told her what she wanted to do, until Margaret exclaimed in surprise, and with a little reproach in her voice: "Why, Patty, don't you want to help me?" "Yes, yes; you don't understand," protested Patty. "It ain't that. I want ter do it all. If you have money for 'em, let me give it to 'em." Margaret was silent. Her eyes were still hurt, still rebellious. "I--I don't want you ter see them," stammered Patty, then. "I don't want you ter feel so--so bad." Margaret's face cleared. "Oh, but I'm feeling bad now," she asserted cheerily; "and after I see them I'll feel better. I want to talk to them; don't you see? They don't realize what they are doing to their children to let them work so, and I am going to tell them." Patty sighed. "Ye don't understand," she began, then stopped, her eyes on the determined young face opposite. "All right, I'll go," she finished, but she shivered a little as she spoke. And they did go, not only on that day, but on the next and the next. Margaret almost forgot the mills, so filled was her vision with drunken men, untidy women, wretched babies, and cheerless homes. Sometimes her presence and her questions were resented, and always they were looked upon with distrust. Her money, if she gave that, was welcome, usually; but her remonstrances and her warnings fell upon deaf, if not angry, ears. And then Margaret perceived why Patty had said she did not understand--there was no such thing as making a successful appeal to the parents. She might have spared herself the effort. Sometimes she did not understand the words of the dark-browed men and the slovenly women--there were many nationalities among the operatives--but always she understood their black looks and their almost threatening gestures. Occasionally, to be sure, she found a sick woman or a discouraged man who welcomed her warmly, and who listened to her and agreed with what she had to say; but with them there was always the excuse of poverty--though their Sue and Bess and Teddy might not earn but twenty, thirty, forty cents a day; yet that twenty, thirty, and forty cents would buy meat and bread, and meant all the difference between a full and an empty stomach, perhaps, for every member of the family, at times.