poor woman. "Who gave you all this? Who's that?" pointing feebly
at Belle.

"I'm the girl that took Clara's place," Belle began, with a fresh
burst of sobs. "I didn't know I was doing it, and now I'll never
forgive myself."

Clara looked at her wonderingly as she explained: "The foreman
said you asked Mr. Schriven to make a place for you, but I don't
believe you meant that he should 'sack' me to do it. Why, you are
nothing but a great, warm-hearted child. The girls said you were
'knowing,' and could 'play as deep a game as the next one,' and
that the foreman about the same as owned it to them. It's all his
doing and his master's. They both care more for a yard of ribbon
than for a girl, body and soul."

"Well," said Belle, with bitter emphasis, "I'll never work for them
again--never, never."

"Don't say that," resumed Clara, after coaxing her mother to take
a little more nourishment, and then sitting down to eat something
herself. "If you are poor you must do the best you can. Now that I
know you I'd rather you had my place than any one else, for"--she
gave a swift glance at her mother's closed eyes, and then whispered
in Belle's ear--"I couldn't keep it much longer. For the last two
weeks it has seemed I'd drop on the floor where you stood to-day, and
every night I've had harder work to climb these stairs. Oh, Lord!
I wish mother and I could both stay here now till we're carried
down together feet foremost."