Susan did not answer. She was staring at the table again, cleaning
the cracks in its worn old surface with her hairpin.

"Thorny," she said huskily, "you know me. Do you think that this is
fair?"

"Aw--aw, now, Susan, don't!" Miss Thornton jumped up, and put her
arm about Susan's shoulders, and Susan, completely unnerved by the
sympathy in the other's tone, dropped her head upon her arm, and
began to cry.

A distressed murmur of concern and pity rose all about her, everyone
patted her shoulder, and bitter denunciations of Mr. Brauer and Miss
Kirk broke forth. Even Hunter, Baxter & Hunter were not spared,
being freely characterized as "the rottenest people in the city to
work for!" "It would serve them right," said more than one indignant
voice, "if the whole crowd of us walked out on them!"

Presently Susan indicated, by a few gulps, and by straightening
suddenly, that the worst of the storm was over, and could even laugh
shakily when Miss Thornton gave her a small, fringed lunch napkin
upon which to wipe her eyes.

"I'm a fool to cry this way," said Susan, sniffing.

"Fool!" Miss Cottle echoed tenderly, "It's enough to make a cow
cry!"

"Not calling Susan a cow, or anything like that," said Miss Thornton
humorously, as she softly smoothed Susan's hair. At which Susan