to my father and mother?" asked Ida,
eagerly.

"Certainly, I would restore you to your mother," was the evasive reply.

"Then I will go with you."

Ida ran quickly to get her bonnet and shawl.

"We had better go at once," said Somerville. "Peg might return, you
know, and then there would be trouble."

"Oh, yes, let us go quickly," said Ida, turning pale at the remembered
threats of Peg.

Neither knew as yet that Peg could not return if she would; that, at
this very moment, she was in legal custody on a charge of a serious
nature. Still less did Ida know that in going she was losing the chance
of seeing Jack and her real mother, of whose existence, even, she was
not yet aware; and that this man, whom she looked upon as her friend,
was in reality her worst enemy.

"I will conduct you to my own rooms, in the first place," said her
companion. "You must remain in concealment for a day or two, as Peg will
undoubtedly be on the look-out for you, and we want to avoid all
trouble."

Ida was delighted with her escape, and with the thoughts of soon seeing
her friends in New York. She put implicit faith in her guide, and was
willing to submit to any conditions which he saw fit to impose.

At length they reached his lodgings.

They were furnished more richly than any room Ida had yet seen; and
formed, indeed, a luxurious contrast to the dark and scantily furnished
apartment which she had occupied since her arrival in Philadelphia.

"Well, you are glad to get away from Peg?" asked John Somerville, giving
Ida a comfortable seat.

"Oh, so glad!" said Ida.

"And you wouldn't care about going back?"

The child shuddered.

"I suppose," she said, "Peg will be very angry. She would beat me, if
she got me back again."

"But she shan't. I will take good care of that."

Ida looked her gratitude. Her heart went out to those who appeared to
deal kindly with her, and she felt very grateful to her companion for
delivering her from Peg.

"Now," said Somerville, "perhaps you will be willing to tell me what it
was Peg required you to do."

"Yes," said Ida; "but she must never know that I told."

"I promise not to tell her."

"It was to pass bad money."

"Ha!" exclaimed her companion, quickly. "What sort of bad money?"

"It was bad bills."

"Did she do much in that way?"

"A good deal. She goes out every day to buy things with the money."

"I am glad to learn this," said John Somerville, thoughtfully.

"Why?" aske