Ida was easily won by kindness, while she had a spirit which was roused by harshness.  She was prepossessed at once in favor of the young man, and readily assented.

He kept her in pleasant conversation while with a free, bold hand, he sketched the outlines of her face and figure.

“I shall want one more sitting,” he said.  “I will come to-morrow at this time.”

“Stop a minute,” said Peg.  “I should like the money in advance.  How do I know that you will come again?”

“Certainly, if you prefer it,” said the young man, opening his pocket-book.

“What strange fortune,” he thought, “can have brought these two together?  Surely there can be no relationship.”

The next day he returned and completed his sketch, which was at once placed in the hands of the publisher, eliciting his warm approval.

CHAPTER XVII.

Jack obtains information.

Jack set out with that lightness of heart and keen sense of enjoyment that seem natural to a young man of eighteen on his first journey.  Partly by cars, partly by boat, he traveled, till in a few hours he was discharged, with hundreds of others, at the depot in Philadelphia.

Among the admonitions given to Jack on leaving home, one was prominently in his mind, to beware of imposition, and to be as economical as possible.

Accordingly he rejected all invitations to ride, and strode along, with his carpet-bag in hand, though, sooth to say, he had very little idea whether he was steering in the right direction for his uncle’s shop.  By dint of diligent and persevering inquiry he found it at length, and, walking in, announced himself to the worthy baker as his nephew Jack.

“What, are you Jack?” exclaimed Mr. Abel Crump, pausing in his labor; “well, I never should have known you, that’s a fact.  Bless me, how you’ve grown!  Why, you’re most as big as your father, ain’t you?”

“Only half an inch shorter,” returned Jack, complacently.

“And you’re—­let me see, how old are you?”

“Eighteen, that is, almost; I shall be in two months.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you, Jack, though I hadn’t the least idea of your raining down so unexpectedly.  How’s your father and mother and Rachel, and your adopted sister?”

“Father and mother are pretty well,” answered Jack, “and so is Aunt Rachel,” he added, smiling; “though she ain’t so cheerful as she might be.”

“Poor Rachel!” said Abel, smiling also, “all things look upside down to her.  I don’t suppose she’s wholly to blame for it.  Folks differ constitutionally.  Some are always looking on the bright side of things, and others can never see but one side, and that’s the dark one.”

“You’ve hit it, uncle,” said Jack, laughing.  “Aunt Rachel always looks as if she was attending a funeral.”

“So she is, my boy,” said Abel Crump, gravely, “and a sad funeral it is.”